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ya no puedo disfrutar de mi comfort serie (south park) y mi podcast porque ahora me siento mal, pero realmente mal al escucharlos/verlos y eran lo único que me hacía feliz y con lo que podía pasar el tiempo y ahora ya no sé q hacer

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me estoy dando cuenta que ando en un momento mental muy vulnerable, en donde me están afectando mucho cosas que antes no me afectaban. este estado me está haciendo el día a día un infierno.

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앞이 잘보이지 않는-안경

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being alone all the time feels fine until you have a normal conversation with someone then its like ohhhh i was losing my mind ok.

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amo cuando kyle hace esta carita jsjd muy yo

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lindo día para morir un poco más que ayer

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no sé cómo hablar, no sé qué decir. quiero gritar y quedarme callada para siempre

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i don't need therapy i need my head crushed by a large rock

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My leftover pasta looked so beautiful in the microwave

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who said 20s are supposed to be the best years of your life. fuck off

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being in your early 20s is crazy bc there’s people who are literally married and people who’ve never even dated and people who are trapped in their childhood bedrooms waiting to get out and people who are trying to live out romanticized dream lives and people who are completely on their own and people with multi tiered support systems and we’re all supposedly peers and none of us think we’re doing it right at all

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ur twenties are weird. i have the priorities of a kindergartener again. i don’t know what in the hell is going on EVER. i like colors. i like soup. i want to take a nap

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There'll be a moment when you realise you're 27 when yesterday you were just 17; and you wouldn't be able to tell how a decade passed away and your life got divided into before and afters. The fury of youth will subdue and nothing will really change but everything will feel different when you look at old photographs and blurry videos taken on cheap mobile phones. Scents will remind you of childhood and certain friends you don't talk to anymore, hangouts will become reunions and mom's burnt pie will become the best food you ever had. And I know on some days you won't be able to show anything of those 10 years but I hope you remember to breathe, and let go of the knot in your chest. I hope you go out in the sun and live a little, because tomorrow is 37.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned