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Posted 12 years agoso this chick whose staying at my house had me help her mover her stuff to her new house from her storage and she has so much crap heavy ass crap and i hadnt slept in 2 days then i finnaly passed out a bit ago and im diein so verry sore ... every where aurgh /curls up into little ball to drown myself in my pity party xDD
No Subject
Posted 12 years agothis lady need to get up out from my house gd ive got porn to b drawing >:C
fuck this shit
Posted 12 years agoi miss you so i feel stupid and i hate it... all of it
bleh nearly 6am
Posted 12 years agoi kind of want something crazy to happen i miss last year when it seemed like every thing was new really not going to school was awesome cause i wasn't supposed to be doing it smoking was better with my best friend around drinking the same depression cocktail with a shot of nostalgia.... oh and a tracer of insomnia. life is a shitty bartender. i have the funny feeling nobody give a flying fuck.
lazy lazy lazy
Posted 12 years agomaking tails =w= mostly just cause we had yarn in the house but yeah im working on one right noaw i'll put up a picture xP
too many fucking feels dayum xDD
Posted 12 years ago fygirlcrush Source:
Why I Fucking Love Teenage Girls (A Personal Essay from an Almost Adult)
fygirlcrush:
A few months ago, I went to a big family gathering at my grandparents’s house and ran into a cousin of mine. She seemed much older than the last time I had seen her (oh, the passage of time), so I asked her what age she was. She replied, “Oh, I’m fifteen.” And my immediate reaction?
“Oh my god, I am so sorry.”
She laughed, which gives me a little bit of hope that maybe, for her, being fifteen isn’t a complete fucking nightmare. But I think she recognized what I was saying on some level. Fifteen is, without a shadow of a doubt, the worst age. Wait, maybe fourteen. Thirteen? Twelve was pretty bad, too. Fuck it, they all suck. Nothing summarizes being a young girl better than this simple quote from The Virgin Suicides: “You’re not even old enough to know how bad life gets.” “Obviously, Doctor, you’ve never been a thirteen-year-old girl.”
It’s amazing, really. I spent my entire childhood counting down the days until I could be a teenager. I planned everything out perfectly: I would go shopping with friends by myself downtown by fourteen, kissing cute boys by fifteen, losing my virginity by sixteen, driving a cute car by seventeen, and off to university to have even more amazing experiences at eighteen. My life would be a fucking commercial, starring me, my best friends, and Jordan Catalano. It was going to happen.
Until it didn’t.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I actually had a few of those things on my list. I drove a pretty bitchin’ baby blue VW Beetle and I did end up going to university. I’m luckier than most. But where were the boys? Where were the cute clothes? Who took my fantasy and dumped a steaming bag of hot garbage juice on it?
We sell this idea of what you’re life is going to be to young girls from the fucking get-go. To be fair, that’s advertising, right? Selling you the life you want, no matter the age? Well, unfortunately, little girls can’t see through the bullshit. We internalize all of it. And that’s what makes the hardships of being a teenage girl sting even more.
I was thrown into the pot of steaming dogshit pretty early. I was wearing a bra at nine, dealing with self loathing by ten, and by twelve, I was officially balls-deep in it. And it didn’t go away. Between twelve and (I’ll be generous and say) seventeen, all the garbage just kept circulating in my system. It would just evolve, or die down, only to flare up at the slightest irritation. That’s what being a teenage girl is: you’re full of poison. Mostly, you just poison yourself over and over again, but sometimes some of it leaks out of you and onto someone else.
At twelve, most girls understand real sadness. Twelve, though it seems so young to us now, felt really old at the time. By this point, you’ve already been told how to be, and realized that you’re not measuring up. By twelve, your skin is already shit, and your body is too flabby or your breasts haven’t come in yet. Worst of all, when you’re a girl, by twelve you’ve probably already been in a situation that made you feel threatened sexually. Let that sink in. From the top of my head, I can think of four moments in my life, before the age of twelve, when someone crossed a line with me. Four. This is not abnormal.
By thirteen, you’re already prepared to destroy yourself. When you’re a sad teenage girl, you try a lot of things out, see which ways work best for you. It’s like you can feel the poison bubbling under your skin, all the time. I recognized this in other girls. I could see them clawing at their skin, lashing out at others, trying everything they could possibly dream up. So they cut themselves, make themselves sick, scream at their mothers, smoke, drink, send pictures to the wrong person, do things they might not want to do. Because literally anything, anything that might make things go away for five minutes, is worth it.
By fourteen, I felt like a veteran. In my mind, I had seen some shit, man. I had felt some fucking feelings. And honestly, I thought things were getting better. I was still a bit broken from things that had happen in middle school, but hey, this is high school! I had been dreaming about this forever! It has to be better, right?
At fifteen, the optimism in me had died. I woke up every day with an anchor on my chest. I went from a solid B student to barely passing. I wouldn’t go out with friends, because suddenly they were branching out, meeting new people, and I didn’t know how to handle that. My lifelong fear of men really didn’t do me any favors with boys. When you flinch every time they move a hand too quickly, and find it nearly impossible to look them in the eye without wanting to throw up, you don’t get asked out much. My mother didn’t know what to do with me, so I would spend all day, every day, locked in my room. University? Fuck no, man. I could barely get my ass out of bed as a basic daily requirement, how could I possibly want to continue my education?
Sixteen was… different. Good and bad. I had woken up from the dead, but it’s not like things just go away. I was doing well in school, I started thinking about university again, and I even hung out with friends sometimes. But things were not great internally. I gave myself over to some extremely unhealthy behavior, which went completely unnoticed. Whatever. It’s still kind of a blur to me. What can I say? I’m an almost adult, I’m allowed to not have everything figured out.
And then, like the rising sun, seventeen happened. I got better. I worked harder. I had a goal, and I was rising to the challenge. I actually enjoyed school, and sometimes, I even went to parties (and had a little bit of fun!). I gained enough control over my unhealthier behavior to start healing, even if the process has been painfully slow. I finally understood what it was like to wake up and be okay. I graduated high school and went off to the university of my choice. Not happily ever after, but I’ll save that for another time.
Now, if you’re still reading, you might be confused. Why am I listing off all the crappy shit I felt between the ages of twelve and seventeen? If you hated being a teenage girl so much, why do you love them?
Because even with every single fucking thing a teenage girl has to deal with, they still manage to do something so mind blowing, yet completely simple: love, unabashedly.
You know those girls everyone loves to shit all over? The ones who really fucking love something? Those girls, man. They take all that energy, all that circulating fire in their veins, and instead of letting it destroy them, they choose to love, ferociously. Be it a band, or a book, or a series of films. They do it to keep themselves sane, and yet we mock them for it. Teenage girls find a buoy for themselves in the sea of emotional ruin, and they hold on tighter than anyone else.
One of the most popular ways people like to hate teenage girls is to complain about their “insane” crushes on boy band members. Now, let me fucking tell you something: those big dumb crushes are what helps a teenage girl develop her sexuality in a safe environment that she can control. In her world, she can listen to One Direction and hear all these songs about how great she is, and how much these cute non-threatening boys want to make her feel special. Why is this so important? Because no one is pushing them. There’s no fourteen year old boy shoving his clammy hands down your shirt without your consent. These fantasy boys are not convincing a girl to send naked pictures, only to show all their friends and call her a slut. In the fantasy land of boy bands, the girl has all the power. And we need to stop judging them for wanting to escape into that.
I love teenage girls because even if they hate themselves, they love other people. I remember how I felt, seeing other girls go through what I was going through. It ruined me. I wanted so desperately to help them out of the muck, but when you’re submerged yourself, there’s not a lot you can do. Teenage girls understand, and they want to make sure no one else feels the way they do. I see it on websites like Tumblr all the time. It’s fucking beautiful.
I love teenage girls because society loves to blame them for everything. The self-obsessed teenage girl is always the face of the “problem” with youth today. Apparently, these superficial teenage girls who love their iPhones too much are the issue. Not, you know, the people conditioning them to believe that their worth is tied to how many Likes they got on their last selfie. No, you’re right, let’s focus on the girls who post on Facebook too much. Great.
I’m in film school now, so often I get asked, “What kind of work do you want to make?” Usually, I don’t have an answer. Good work, I guess? But thinking about it, I know what I want to do: I want to make movies for teenage girls. Stories about teenage girls with agency, who rebel, who take all that energy and channel it into something, even if it’s not necessarily positive. I want to represent the girls I love so much. Because I have been one of those girls, and I will always carry a part of that with me.
So just try and talk shit about teenage girls around me. Just fucking try it.
Why I Fucking Love Teenage Girls (A Personal Essay from an Almost Adult)
fygirlcrush:
A few months ago, I went to a big family gathering at my grandparents’s house and ran into a cousin of mine. She seemed much older than the last time I had seen her (oh, the passage of time), so I asked her what age she was. She replied, “Oh, I’m fifteen.” And my immediate reaction?
“Oh my god, I am so sorry.”
She laughed, which gives me a little bit of hope that maybe, for her, being fifteen isn’t a complete fucking nightmare. But I think she recognized what I was saying on some level. Fifteen is, without a shadow of a doubt, the worst age. Wait, maybe fourteen. Thirteen? Twelve was pretty bad, too. Fuck it, they all suck. Nothing summarizes being a young girl better than this simple quote from The Virgin Suicides: “You’re not even old enough to know how bad life gets.” “Obviously, Doctor, you’ve never been a thirteen-year-old girl.”
It’s amazing, really. I spent my entire childhood counting down the days until I could be a teenager. I planned everything out perfectly: I would go shopping with friends by myself downtown by fourteen, kissing cute boys by fifteen, losing my virginity by sixteen, driving a cute car by seventeen, and off to university to have even more amazing experiences at eighteen. My life would be a fucking commercial, starring me, my best friends, and Jordan Catalano. It was going to happen.
Until it didn’t.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I actually had a few of those things on my list. I drove a pretty bitchin’ baby blue VW Beetle and I did end up going to university. I’m luckier than most. But where were the boys? Where were the cute clothes? Who took my fantasy and dumped a steaming bag of hot garbage juice on it?
We sell this idea of what you’re life is going to be to young girls from the fucking get-go. To be fair, that’s advertising, right? Selling you the life you want, no matter the age? Well, unfortunately, little girls can’t see through the bullshit. We internalize all of it. And that’s what makes the hardships of being a teenage girl sting even more.
I was thrown into the pot of steaming dogshit pretty early. I was wearing a bra at nine, dealing with self loathing by ten, and by twelve, I was officially balls-deep in it. And it didn’t go away. Between twelve and (I’ll be generous and say) seventeen, all the garbage just kept circulating in my system. It would just evolve, or die down, only to flare up at the slightest irritation. That’s what being a teenage girl is: you’re full of poison. Mostly, you just poison yourself over and over again, but sometimes some of it leaks out of you and onto someone else.
At twelve, most girls understand real sadness. Twelve, though it seems so young to us now, felt really old at the time. By this point, you’ve already been told how to be, and realized that you’re not measuring up. By twelve, your skin is already shit, and your body is too flabby or your breasts haven’t come in yet. Worst of all, when you’re a girl, by twelve you’ve probably already been in a situation that made you feel threatened sexually. Let that sink in. From the top of my head, I can think of four moments in my life, before the age of twelve, when someone crossed a line with me. Four. This is not abnormal.
By thirteen, you’re already prepared to destroy yourself. When you’re a sad teenage girl, you try a lot of things out, see which ways work best for you. It’s like you can feel the poison bubbling under your skin, all the time. I recognized this in other girls. I could see them clawing at their skin, lashing out at others, trying everything they could possibly dream up. So they cut themselves, make themselves sick, scream at their mothers, smoke, drink, send pictures to the wrong person, do things they might not want to do. Because literally anything, anything that might make things go away for five minutes, is worth it.
By fourteen, I felt like a veteran. In my mind, I had seen some shit, man. I had felt some fucking feelings. And honestly, I thought things were getting better. I was still a bit broken from things that had happen in middle school, but hey, this is high school! I had been dreaming about this forever! It has to be better, right?
At fifteen, the optimism in me had died. I woke up every day with an anchor on my chest. I went from a solid B student to barely passing. I wouldn’t go out with friends, because suddenly they were branching out, meeting new people, and I didn’t know how to handle that. My lifelong fear of men really didn’t do me any favors with boys. When you flinch every time they move a hand too quickly, and find it nearly impossible to look them in the eye without wanting to throw up, you don’t get asked out much. My mother didn’t know what to do with me, so I would spend all day, every day, locked in my room. University? Fuck no, man. I could barely get my ass out of bed as a basic daily requirement, how could I possibly want to continue my education?
Sixteen was… different. Good and bad. I had woken up from the dead, but it’s not like things just go away. I was doing well in school, I started thinking about university again, and I even hung out with friends sometimes. But things were not great internally. I gave myself over to some extremely unhealthy behavior, which went completely unnoticed. Whatever. It’s still kind of a blur to me. What can I say? I’m an almost adult, I’m allowed to not have everything figured out.
And then, like the rising sun, seventeen happened. I got better. I worked harder. I had a goal, and I was rising to the challenge. I actually enjoyed school, and sometimes, I even went to parties (and had a little bit of fun!). I gained enough control over my unhealthier behavior to start healing, even if the process has been painfully slow. I finally understood what it was like to wake up and be okay. I graduated high school and went off to the university of my choice. Not happily ever after, but I’ll save that for another time.
Now, if you’re still reading, you might be confused. Why am I listing off all the crappy shit I felt between the ages of twelve and seventeen? If you hated being a teenage girl so much, why do you love them?
Because even with every single fucking thing a teenage girl has to deal with, they still manage to do something so mind blowing, yet completely simple: love, unabashedly.
You know those girls everyone loves to shit all over? The ones who really fucking love something? Those girls, man. They take all that energy, all that circulating fire in their veins, and instead of letting it destroy them, they choose to love, ferociously. Be it a band, or a book, or a series of films. They do it to keep themselves sane, and yet we mock them for it. Teenage girls find a buoy for themselves in the sea of emotional ruin, and they hold on tighter than anyone else.
One of the most popular ways people like to hate teenage girls is to complain about their “insane” crushes on boy band members. Now, let me fucking tell you something: those big dumb crushes are what helps a teenage girl develop her sexuality in a safe environment that she can control. In her world, she can listen to One Direction and hear all these songs about how great she is, and how much these cute non-threatening boys want to make her feel special. Why is this so important? Because no one is pushing them. There’s no fourteen year old boy shoving his clammy hands down your shirt without your consent. These fantasy boys are not convincing a girl to send naked pictures, only to show all their friends and call her a slut. In the fantasy land of boy bands, the girl has all the power. And we need to stop judging them for wanting to escape into that.
I love teenage girls because even if they hate themselves, they love other people. I remember how I felt, seeing other girls go through what I was going through. It ruined me. I wanted so desperately to help them out of the muck, but when you’re submerged yourself, there’s not a lot you can do. Teenage girls understand, and they want to make sure no one else feels the way they do. I see it on websites like Tumblr all the time. It’s fucking beautiful.
I love teenage girls because society loves to blame them for everything. The self-obsessed teenage girl is always the face of the “problem” with youth today. Apparently, these superficial teenage girls who love their iPhones too much are the issue. Not, you know, the people conditioning them to believe that their worth is tied to how many Likes they got on their last selfie. No, you’re right, let’s focus on the girls who post on Facebook too much. Great.
I’m in film school now, so often I get asked, “What kind of work do you want to make?” Usually, I don’t have an answer. Good work, I guess? But thinking about it, I know what I want to do: I want to make movies for teenage girls. Stories about teenage girls with agency, who rebel, who take all that energy and channel it into something, even if it’s not necessarily positive. I want to represent the girls I love so much. Because I have been one of those girls, and I will always carry a part of that with me.
So just try and talk shit about teenage girls around me. Just fucking try it.
;3 <3
Posted 12 years agoWhen I say, ‘I love you,’ it’s not because I want you or because I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You’re a hell of a person.
No Subject
Posted 12 years agodont worry about it just ranting to self
Posted 12 years agoin a sudden turn of events i just need to get some stuff off my chest i just need to put all this into words, im so terrible with them though... im not too sure where to start; my mum was/is a whore her favorite pass times where heroine pot and meth of course if you where to ask her about that today i'd never have happened the same way she never brought grown men in to a home with two toddlers while my father worked the night shift, she broke up our family but really i don't think she was ever really part of it As far as i know my mother had one child before me at 17 (the age i am now) the kid died of SIDS she never talked about him much other then his name was Jonathan. i was her second the product of a lie... mummy dearest told my brilliant father that her pregnancy would fall nothing short of a "medical miracle" in other words she couldn't have a baby well needless to say i was born and a year later my brother and as far as i can tell thats where it went downhill for them, and though my mother has always been a party girl shes had one more kid up to date the son of drug addiction and a abusive father who beat my mother, myself and both my brothers. Joseph is autistic and has cerebral palsy along with a vast array of other medical malfunctions no doubt a REAL medical miracle with all the undoubtable drug use. but for a long time my mom was out of the picture because with ease my dad got custody of me and my brother patrick (at this point joseph was not yet born) we where purdy flippin poor i remember nearly being put in foster care several times, we lived in a mobile home across the street from a drug deal'n meth head. for a long time after that me and patrick where passed house to house trough friends and family. then for a while my mom seemed to have reappeared into my life we lived in the same apartment complex as her staying with her and a few other occupants of the complex in Arlington theses days that building is literally across the street fro that big football dome thing (i dont keep up with sports its like cowboys er something) but yeah I've always had problems and i scared some people when i was cutting open my dolls piercing them and my mood has been known to flip on a dime so for about 6 months to a year i spent in cooks children's hospital in-patient where we tested different drugs on my head and i was an outcast even among the prepubescent insane. a while after i got out my mom talked my dad into a vacation, one we didnt come back from for 5 years with her new husband the Cuban pot-head Johnathan and the infant joseph.i dont think my mom was ready for kids, or maybe she just hates me personally because she had the habit of putting me down mercilessly but it all lead up to what she did that made me who i am today, she would find the littlest thing (Ex: talking out of turn. not finishing dinner. fighting with patrick. etc) and grab the nearest object (her favorite being the broom or her high-heeled shoe or really anything including her fist which was adorned with a sizable rock.) a beat me till i literally couldn't feel it anymore, i couldn't move, eat, hear or so much as respond and hours passed by in minutes (and the catatonic trance i would slip into brought nothing but more fury from my mom) when i got hurt too badly or she got tired before she felt like i'd been sufficiently punished she locked me in my closet which was locked by a large deadbolt. sometimes shed go easy on me and make me kneel in grits, rice or salt which ever was closest sometimes untill my knees bled and where bruised the memories just wrighting this makes my eyes sting its a shme no one will ever see this its just i thought i deserved it the hate from mom the pain i felt and i'd always been into theses books the angsty ones where they talk about self loathing and suicide and self harm and though i was afraid i needed to do this maybe at first i thought "oh i'll show them.." or "... they'll be sorry when im gone..." ive failed 3 times at suicide pills, hangging and drowning and i think if a next attempt comes i would like to see how much blood i have to fill the bathtub. im still broken my favorite dreams are the ones where im so sad i cry in dream and irl i need to get better for the ones i love... i need to stop all this rambling and self pity fuck it maybe i'll post this instead of deleting it like the rest i dunno fuck it
so muxh yus
Posted 12 years agoWWWWWOooooooooooooo shots tis all i has o say x3
omg wat times 10,000
Posted 12 years agoso i was on this forum chat thing and this happens:
Imagine you just walked in the door from a long shitty day at work, suddenly a 1200lb gorilla jumps at you roaring and raising hell unlike anything else on this earth. He then hands you a suitcase with $100,000,000 in it and gives you the best hug ever. You Roar. For 15 seconds afterward you understand the gorilla. You understand everything. The 15 seconds is up. You return to being your normal meatwad self.
I cum like a fucking caveman. A Ton. ph34r the wrath of my pen1s.
The gorilla gets bigger and meaner with each following orgasm yet it takes more to make the bastard show up. By orgasm #10-15 he's pretty much gone but you're getting updates from his twitter page.
Masturbation is a smaller less intense version of that.
i laughed so goddamn hard. XD
Imagine you just walked in the door from a long shitty day at work, suddenly a 1200lb gorilla jumps at you roaring and raising hell unlike anything else on this earth. He then hands you a suitcase with $100,000,000 in it and gives you the best hug ever. You Roar. For 15 seconds afterward you understand the gorilla. You understand everything. The 15 seconds is up. You return to being your normal meatwad self.
I cum like a fucking caveman. A Ton. ph34r the wrath of my pen1s.
The gorilla gets bigger and meaner with each following orgasm yet it takes more to make the bastard show up. By orgasm #10-15 he's pretty much gone but you're getting updates from his twitter page.
Masturbation is a smaller less intense version of that.
i laughed so goddamn hard. XD
fuck
Posted 12 years agoTake away the sensation inside
Bitter sweet migraine in my head
Its like a throbbing toothache of the mind
I can't take this feeling anymore
Drain the pressure from the swelling,
This sensation's overwhelming,
Give me a long kiss goodnight
and everything will be alright
Tell me that I won't feel a thing
So give me Novacaine
Bitter sweet migraine in my head
Its like a throbbing toothache of the mind
I can't take this feeling anymore
Drain the pressure from the swelling,
This sensation's overwhelming,
Give me a long kiss goodnight
and everything will be alright
Tell me that I won't feel a thing
So give me Novacaine
free character design/ ref
Posted 12 years agoHey guys gonna try out some character design Please note me if you want they are free sketches and you may or may not get shading! not doing colors yet so yeah I'll do it till you’re pleased with it so shoot me a message please I need practice + you get a ref fo yo character! :D
-love Nova
-love Nova
