bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

Should I delete my blog? I was gonna but now I’m not so sure..

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

this website ain't better than fucking twitter in any way i can tell u that much, it isn't filled w a shit ton of nerds either & u can actually avoid shitstorm people who don't understand life for the most part

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

it quite literally is not fucking worth it to stick around w the amount of quirky freaking predators that are on this website and don't say it's the same everywhere bc tumblr is a clusterfuck in a way that cannot be avoided on the website no matter how much u try & it's way too much fucking whiplash on here at all times always so I'm leaving.

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

I need to figure out what makes me act like such a bitch & circumvent it before it FUCKING HAPPENS AGAIN. I'M SO TIRED OF THIS BULLSHIT, SELF.

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

yall should reblog this with your zodiac sign and the color you associate with it in the tags

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

im curious to hear how ppl view these colors, so can u tell me which color u think they look more like?  yellow or green? blue or purple? yellow or orange? pink or purple? blue or green?

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

tbh I didn't even notice the color change until today, just seems a lil more intense now. huh. i finally get what ppl are meaning by "more saturation" lol I kinda like intensity but also I get why others fucking hate this color ykno? it even hurts for me a lil bit. fuck saturated colors if they hurt other ppls eyes man, who cares if tumble thought this was a good business move. fuck this

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

They wrote only ever about first love. First love was every novel, every movie, every artist rendition. First love was a fire, the stars, the universe; an expansion you never recover from, an ache that never dies.

But what of us who did not love the right person that first precious time.

What about us who carry that break like a knife fight, who learned from the falling, who put up better defenses. The excuses we make for not trying again litter our beds. The habits to hide our softness.

God, I want to be tender like a wound but I already healed over. Instead I know not to touch the stove because I’ve seen what happens.

Oh I close my eyes. My new love is not a bullet or a bike chain.

My new love is soft. It’s teaching a drought the goodness of rain.

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

Nothing gives me positive emotions anymore. So... I might as well throw it all away and never speak to anyone again.

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

*looks at bad selfie* art is subjective

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

them: you're so quiet !

me:

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

peridoodle

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

Wow!!

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

I feel like Miles Morales would steal the fancy, expensive art supplies, because the hipster place that sells them overcharges per marker!

[bat-chaoticlovercollection--blog]

Zzz 😴