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Take a shower, wash off the day. Drink a glass of water. Make the room dark. Lie down and close your eyes. Notice the silence. Notice your heart. Still beating. Still fighting. You made it, after all. You made it, another day. And you can make it one more. You’re doing just fine.
Charlotte Eriksson (via theglasschild)
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I don’t owe people anything, and I don’t have to talk to them any more than I feel I need to.
Ned Vizzini, It’s Kind of a Funny Story (via lipstick-bullet)
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Somewhere on the brink of insanity, I fell in love with the idea of destroying myself.
(via invisible-depression)
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illustratie 001, painting over a print, photo by françois jenssard
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“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.
“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”
“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”
“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
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Milk Life? How About Milk Destruction: The Shocking Truth About the Dairy Industry and the Environment
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Hey get a patch. Just shipped a bunch! Spreadit.bigcartel.com
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Do not call me perfect, a lie is never a compliment. Call me an erratic damaged and insecure mess. Then tell me that you love me for it.
Beau Taplin || You’re a fucking wreck and I love you for it. (via afadthatlastsforever)
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