intimatehorror

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Also in readable format at: http://www.vmagazine.com/2011/07/from-the-desk-of-lady-gaga-2/?page=1 

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snoopy image of the day

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it’s kinda fucked up that you’re only an age for a year. I didn’t know how to be 23 yet, let me try again

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Just wanted to say a special thank you to everyone on here who has found “The End” resonates with them. It’s like screaming in an empty room sometimes. I came back to tumblr when it all went down, because I think something special happens here. Like when someone sits at the edge of the couch and through your tears you say “please don’t watch me cry, but please don’t leave either.” This is the quiet space in between screaming observation and lethargic loneliness. It’s shared solitude. The platform gave me everything once upon a time, so many years ago. It felt right to return in my weakest moment. It was here that I could tell small fragmented truths about what I was going through, in my own baroque way. Thanks for keeping my secret until I was ready.

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I’ve had this blog for 11 years now wtf

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"nobody is judging you" wrong, my mother is seemingly always judging every single stranger she sees

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i have no object permanence about myself. if i’m not in anyones eye sight i assume i have ceased to be. finding out people remember i exist, think about me, and even talk about me when i’m not actively in front of them is startling news every time it is brought to my attention

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this is literally me if u even care

The idea of sleeping with a boy who has no sense of time and schedule and a fucked up circadian rhythm is so cute. Imagine going to bed without a boy because he’s not tired and you’re a little sad because you want to cuddle him, so you go to sleep happy that you’re able to spend time near him but a little sad that he’s not coming to bed. You wake up a little while later and he’s crawled into bed and cuddling you. You wake up in the morning and he’s still fast asleep so you get to watch him a bit while he’s sleeping and think about how cute he is before you get up and make you both breakfast. Or maybe he’s really tired and he goes to bed before you so you crawl into bed with him. When you wake up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom he’s not in bed with you anymore so you go to find him and he’s doing something like playing a video game and doesn’t notice you watching him. You get to see him being cute, just being the self he is when he’s not putting on a front for people. You get to watch his most natural state because he doesn’t know you’re there. You go back to sleep and when you wake up in the morning he’s already cooked you breakfast and made you coffee. You think about how strange his sleep schedule is and chalk it up as another weird and quirky thing about him that makes him so cute and individual.

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I would love to say that being sober has turned me into a happier person.

That it’s solved all my problems and changed my life completely. But the truth is: it hasn’t. I still lay in bed each night shaking from my own anxiety, deeply afraid of who I’ve been, who I am, and who I might be. Obsessive compulsively picking myself apart, fearing I may never amount to much. The dread still tears me apart, and in those everpresent moments it feels like it’ll never go away.

And yknow… maybe it won’t, but the difference between then and now, using and being clean, is that when I do have those small chances at happiness throughout the day, I’m somewhat able to enjoy them. I can put the constant anguish on the backburner for the slightest of moments- be that a second or a minute or an hour- and actually feel something.

That alone makes it worth it.

So no, being sober doesn’t fix you. It’s not a miracle cure, and I might always feel this way, but at least I don’t loathe every single waking moment like I used to…. only 99% of the time :P

(Hey, it’s better than 100!)

-Yours Truly, Atlas

{AKA: Prinxe Wxtch}

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For my next dnd character I'm going to choose Mesperyian as my patron deity and just fucking lie about everything.

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normalizing going out just to look good in public and maybe buy some used books

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Good morning faggots, dykes, and transsexuals

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be honest. are you guys only hanging out with me because of the prophecy.

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Paige Lewis, "Diorama of Want"

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that feeling you get when you see a popular post from pre-2013 tumblr and you go on their blog and see that op is still posting regularly......hotel california ass website genuinely

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Ruth Madievsky, All-Night Pharmacy