purebluu
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It feels really strange to be on here again and yet here i am
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hey tumblr, its been a while
lately I’ve been questioning a lot of who I am and who I’m not and most importantly, to try and truly quell/solve the dysfunctional and unhealthy mindset that I have buried so deep into me that its become part of my core ( which is also partly my so called “depression”). I wanted to try therapy again, and it’s been 2 years since. Looking back, I’ve grown an incredulous and insurmountable amount of personal reinvention from absolutely not knowing what the fuck to do,recurring dreams of disappointment in which I would wake up to the reality of understanding that the past cannot be changed and days where I just seriously feel like I cannot function or have any sort of enthusiasm even if you would stick the sun in my body, there would only be complete pitch black darkness.
Well I’m really happy to say that for one, I didn’t delete this tumblr so that I can reaffirm whatever I’ve been feeling (although I really really dislike being here, but its this or 39$ for someone who is professionally trained to listen to me and tell me things I want to hear) and two, that I am in the best shape of my life, and it’s only gonna get better. Though with the great things and expectations I’ve set myself, there are still fundamental errors that I am plagued with, and this was very recently that I really felt it shake me off of my groove of which I consistently kept for such a good and long fucking time. I decided to phone a crisis textline over the weekend (which was never picked up but i didn’t let that stop me from getting help) followed by going back to “therapy” as I did shortly after a terrible exit out of... a traumatic experience. Upon realizing I had to pay, I decided to just let myself be heard on here ( though it really feels like no one is listening) instead of going with my gut and feeling that if I were to do therapy, maybe, again, I’d just feel better about myself or that it would be beneficial.
So here I am. I don’t know what to feel. I don’t know if I feel the right things or act the wrong way. I don’t know. Why is it that I’m always attracted to company that is unhealthy and so damaging to my personal health that I’m willing to bite every bullet for the price of nothing??????? What the fuck do I do? Why do I think so highly of people who shouldn’t even be put on a pedestal? Why am I even after so many months of being hurt and recovering and feeling so fucking fulfilled and good about myself STILL mired in the past? Should I really still try therapy? Do I phone a crisis textline again? Just for the sake of letting go of the very thing that ails me? Why is it that every day theres a thought in the back of my head that maybe, just maybe I’d get a message, phone call, or a text for a cup of coffee or even just starting over? Why is it that there are days where I literally just want to drop everything, quit all the work I’ve put in myself and go back to the very beginning with a pinch of hope, and just simply try again even though I know its impossible, harmful, pointless and stupid?
I don’t know. Maybe I’m meant to be this way. Maybe I’ll never feel better. I really want to know the answer. There has to be an answer. I’m not willing to take uncertainty.
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EVERYONE I LOGGED BACK ON TO SAY THAT I RECENTLY WENT TO AN ALVVAYS SHOW AND THEY’RE THE BEST BAND EVER
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Abstract photographic art used on a series of Isaac Asimov book covers in the late 1960s. As a youngster I never got used to seeing these weird images in place of the usual epic Chris Foss spaceship scenes. But I really appreciate them now. It seemed back then books sold so well, particularly Asimov, that you could put any old thing on the cover and you’d sell a bunch more
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Imants Tillers (Australia, 1950 - ) Kangaroo Blank, 1988 oilstick, gouache, synthetic polymer paint 78 canvas boards, nos. 16231 - 16308 installation 213.0 (h) x 195.0 (w) cm
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Rogier van der Weyden, Crucifixion Triptych (details), c. 1445
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Mackenzie Davis, photographed by Camilla Armbrust for FLAUNT, issue 160, 2018.
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I feel like deleting this thing again
If I do, sorry I let you guys down but feel free to reach me on my instagram i love u guys
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Roy Lichtenstein (American, 1923-1997), Crak!, 1963-64. Color offset lithograph on wove paper, 47.5 x 69 cm.
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