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[ghostedboy]

I think about jumping in front of the train every morning on my way to class. I stand over the yellow line and just think about stepping forward. As the train comes, I often close my eyes and imagine it hitting me. For a second, I feel calm. Almost happy. Until I have to open my eyes again and continue with the day like everything’s perfectly okay.

“Maybe tomorrow”, I say to myself. Maybe tomorrow.

[ghostedboy]

Children … develop an internalized image of a tantalizing but rejecting parent … to which they are desperately attached. Such parents are often incapable of loving, or are preoccupied with their own needs. The child is rewarded when not demanding and is devalued, or ridiculed as needy for expressing dependent longings. Thus, the child’s picture of “good” behavior is distorted. The child learns never to nag or even yearn for love, because it makes the parent more distant and censorious. The child may then cover over the resulting loneliness, emptiness, and sense of ineptness with a fantasy (often unconscious) of self-sufficiency. Fairbairn argued that the tragedy of schizoid children is that …they believe it is love, rather than hatred, that is the destructive force within. Love consumes. Hence the schizoid child’s chief mental operation is to repress the normal wish to be loved.

Doidge, N. (2001). Diagnosing The English Patient: Schizoid fantasies of being skinless and being buried alive. Journal of the American Psychoanalytic Association, 49, 279-309. 

Quoted in “Some Thought about Schizoid Dynamics” by Nancy McWilliams: http://internationalpsychoanalysis.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/McWilliamsschizoid_dynamics.pdf

(via chocolatekimmi)

[ghostedboy]

Vanishing Point noun |  the point beyond which something disappears or simply ceases to exist ⚈

[ghostedboy]

[ghostedboy]

[ghostedboy]

Reality is very, very thin; you could puncture it with a sewing needle. You could tear it apart with your bare hands, and stitch it back into new, incredible shapes. You could bunch it into a little ball and swallow it whole, and the universe would live inside of you. Would it burn? Would it turn your heart to steam? Or would it be cold, so very cold: would it freeze your blood solid? 

Will you even remember that it’s there, when your vision shifts and the doorway is just a doorway once again? Once the floor is just a floor, and water is only water. 

Set it to boil. Steep your tea strong. Drink it hot. There is a universe inside of you, don’t you know?

[ghostedboy]

[ghostedboy]

treehouse adventures on a tuesday !! (ig: ninapaesmans)

[ghostedboy]

[ghostedboy]

[ghostedboy]

Rami Kadi Haute Couture S/S 2013.

[ghostedboy]

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[ghostedboy]

[ghostedboy]

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[ghostedboy]

Based off of this post by @flatsound

[ghostedboy]

there’s too much quiet inside of me and not in a good way. can emptiness howl. can a scream be static. did you know i used to be a really cool person. you would have loved me. i would have loved myself. right now i barely function. it’s sad to see but it’s worse to think about what i could have been. can you both be full of something and devoid of it. i think i’m losing it. i think i’m losing it.

[ghostedboy]

I’ve been living as a ghost, haunting this place I used to call home. I’ve been invisible, inaudible, almost nonexistent. I’m not a loud ghost, I don’t throw furniture across the room, I don’t slam doors. I whisper quietly into the night: “Please don’t forget me.” But everyone forgets me. They always do.

my life as a ghost