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Me @ God’s plan
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i feel so unwanted
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i want to move
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No recuerdo con exactitud en qué momento fue que me convertí en un fracaso para el amor ya no me importa tanto como antes y eso se lo debo al hecho de que burlarme de mi situación me pareció más conveniente que seguir tentado por el hecho de sentir pena de mí mismo no puedo quejarme; ser un fracaso me llevó a escribir muchas cosas y a no tomar en serio a nadie por ende, mis expectativas son bajas no tan bajas como mi autoestima pero podemos decir que existe cierto equilibro tener autoestima baja no debería ser sinónimo de tristeza yo la paso bien sabiendo que no le gusto a nadie y por eso no tengo que arreglarme ni comprar ropa cara o tratar de salir guapo en las fotos el monstruo frente al espejo me cae bien porque sin importar la notable circunstancia de merecimientos siempre puede sacarme una sonrisa
Poemas para leer acompañado de una caguama, Quetzal Noah (via quetzalnoah)
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im fucking crying i asked a friend if he could paypal me $13 so my account doesnt get overdrafted (again) and that i'll pay him back but he sent me $100 as an early birthday present i am so so so happy there are tears streaming down my face i cant wait to buy myself a decent meal and not be shitpiss broke im fucking bawling my eyes out this is so so nice and kind im so appreciative
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why does my back hurt every time i breathe am i having a heart attack
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I hate when you’re like “fuck it’s so hot” and someone’s like “well why don’t you take your jacket off?” Like bitch no…this is my outfit
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you passed disease presented to you at birth held underwater, told to scream your self worth (it wasnt good enough!) entrust the secrets to the backs of your arms killing the self as to protect it from harm
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Fiona Apple in Spin Magazine, 1997.
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“kumquat blood orange caramelized bark 😈” by @mirellanyc on Instagram http://ift.tt/1RgZJQ4
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Perhaps the worst thing / in the world would be to live forever. / Otherwise what would be the point / of memory, without which / we would have nothing to hurt / or placate ourselves with later? / Look. It is only getting worse / from here on out. Thank God.
Paisley Rekdal, from The Invention of the Kaleidoscope; “Birthday Poem” (via violentwavesofemotion)
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