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i dont even have guilty pleasures anymore i just like stuff and if people have a problem with that they can go fuck themselves

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(by Jaanus Jagomägi)

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No one talks about how hard it is when your mood is constantly switching between "it's okay, I don't care. I’m fine" and "I don't know how much more I can take"

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i’ve had this nagging thought in my head for yeeeaars on end now and i figured that what better place to see if it resonates with others as well as it resonates with me than tumblr.

i’m sure that we have all heard the expression “someone can’t love you unless you love yourself”, and i just find that so heartbreaking and absolute horseshit, it has saddened me for so fucking long.

i understand that the saying is supposed to be motivational and inspire young minds to not feel pressured into throwing themselves in to relationships and commitments that they are not ready for. that they should feel compelled to take their time to sort themselves out, to feel confident and empowered in themselves before they allow anyone else into that mental space. and that message is good, the intent is good, but to me, all it did was tell me that i’ll never be worthy of love.

and i fucking believed it.

for too damn long, i was so beaten down and convinced of this stupid mantra, that i didn’t allow myself to accept any form of affection or appreciation from partners or friends. i simply never believed any of it: that they loved me or that i was in any way important to them.

in my head, because i didn’t love myself so no one else could, what they actually did was love the person that i pretended to be for them. i have always been a absolute expert at masking, to the point where i’m not even really sure of who i am as a person, and all the people i pretended to be was who my partners and friends actually loved. but i didn’t. i was fucking miserable.

it took years for me to realise that all this was going on in my head. it took years to realise that i wasn’t that person i was pretending to be, and i’m still figuring out who i actually am when i’m not masking. but it bothers me that i was told that i can’t let anyone else love me until i love myself. i will never love myself, that i am sure of. i hope that i’ll grow to like myself, be proud of myself, and i probably will one day. but don’t ever try to tell me that no one else will or can, in fact, love me.

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— Nitya Prakash

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I hope we meet again in another life…

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Source: poeticalphotos

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In Intricate Detail, Ann Wood Sprouts Myriad Mushroom Sculptures from Paper

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Neither romantic nor sexual nor platonic but a secret fourth thing (bonded like stray cats who cannot be adopted separately)

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I’m becoming more difficult, more unsociable, more and more misanthropic.