depressedbisexualpotata

[depressedbisexualpotata]

You think attention is love and that’s why you suffer so deeply.

[depressedbisexualpotata]

my sensitive ass really notices every small change in tone, conversations, lack of interest from people & i take that shit to heart

[depressedbisexualpotata]

The truth

Objectification is fun, and you are more than your parts.

Degredation is fun, and you have value as a person.

Humiliation is fun, and you deserve privacy, confidence, and pride.

Masochism is fun, and you deserve more than pain.

Sex is fun, and you are more than just a toy.

[depressedbisexualpotata]

@academia-lucifer 🎞

[depressedbisexualpotata]

Read, read, read. Read everything -- trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You'll absorb it. Then write. If it's good, you'll find out. If it's not, throw it out of the window.

— William Faulkner.

[depressedbisexualpotata]

Quotes from my notes app:

• And what’s the difference, really? Between pleasure and pain. Love is pleasure. Love is pain. One and the same. He is the artist, bleeding color and light; and she is the canvas, the black surface greedily soaking up every bit he dares offer her. She isn’t sure if the painting inside of her is beautiful, but it makes her feel like she is. Beautiful. A canvas painted pink with pleasure, dotted red with pain. A picture of love all the same.                                                                                                 --but she’s not fallen yet.

[depressedbisexualpotata]

@academia-lucifer

[depressedbisexualpotata]

I be like “goodnight” then stay up for 2 extra hours

[depressedbisexualpotata]

Wendy Cope, From June to December: Summer Villanelle

[depressedbisexualpotata]

TW: ED mentions and self loathing

I starve myself as a form of invisible self harm so that way I can get the satisfaction of hurting myself while also achieving weight loss. I am not comfortable in the shell I occupy and and damaging my body brings comfort.

Unable to survive in peace because chaos is all I know. I want someone to notice and ask about how am I but I also don't wanna answer judgements. And I do not wanna annoy people, they have better things to do.

So I rot in my bed endlessly while I scroll Pinterest looking at bodies and faces I wish I had.

[depressedbisexualpotata]

He must have seen our souls and thought let's intwine their fates. He must have us together and thought let's rewrite their fates. They must have seen us apart and thought let's fill them with spite and hate.

We may be apart my love but I could never hate you, at least not when you were mine.

[depressedbisexualpotata]

How did I not see it before? Under that sweet venomous words, those lying eyes and cheating smile. How could I not see it before? The way you watched her, called her beautiful. You wanted everyone but me. How did I not see it before? You never wanted me, you just liked the idea of me.

[depressedbisexualpotata]

— A. Y.

[depressedbisexualpotata]

Poetry

I loved you to the brink of poetry.

Insignificant words written on the torn pieces of my confessions.

I have lost the coherency of time and I seek out the cogs to wind us back.

My words don't make sense...but if it had was it even worthy of being called love....or better, poetry.

Like a raving lunatic I write day and day but these sentences flow out in a cacophony I do not understand nor that I care

The candle light illuminates my yearning in the old attic where the memories are safeguarded.

Everyday I wait is a day I lose myself

I love you too much

I love you to the point of senseless paragraphs

I love you to the point of poetry

[depressedbisexualpotata]

Paint me like a renaissance art 🎨

[depressedbisexualpotata]

Drunk

She left. She fucking left.

Now I'm with a stranger, we're both hurt. We all look for the same thing. Love. I can't hear the music. It's too loud. It's too loud. Nothing makes sense. I'm holding him but I see you. Hold me. Hold me. We're kissing but we wish to taste someone else. Come back. Please.

He's taking me somewhere, I follow. We're stripping down our clothes and I feel hollow. I wish it was you. Skin on skin, body to body yet I feel numb.

Nothing makes sense, the night repeats over again the next day. No one can replace you.

You left.

Maybe I should too..

[depressedbisexualpotata]

Sometimes I'm a raging homosexual, then sometimes a quiet lil straight girl