bisexual and pansexual people are actually made of stardust and flames and are immortal pass it on
It’s strange how some happy songs make me feel incredibly depressed because of the memories of the person attached to them. /Deep sigh/
I will probably be one of those annoying blogs that updates to tell how great I am doing at healthy living in the future but this isn’t exactly one of those posts. (But it almost is)
I just worked out for 45 minutes. Mainly because I have work in an hour and I don’t want to be too out of it.
For breakfast I had fruit. To wash it all down I had mint tea. Which was actually kind of delicious.
For my lunch I had a small chocolate bar with some toast and a water-based fruit smoothie.
I am doing this healthy lifestyle thing because I am sick of it taking me three hours to get out of bed. I am sick of feeling like the world is going to crush me. Yes, eating better and being more active will help me be less sad because I am placing myself in a positive environment.
When my next wage slip comes in I am going to join a gym and buy myself some home equipment too.
My F.I.L.D.I is strong. So fuck it, lets do it.
Please for the love of whatever you hold most dear, do not share those fucking celebrity nudes. What you’re saying is “it is okay to invade someone’s most private possessions.” Yes, they are celebrities and yes they do live their lives in the limelight, but this is not a part of their lives they wish to share with anyone but their partners!
Don’t be that guy. You are like the NSA spying on peoples private lives. This was a crime.
Justin Vernon - A Song For a Lover Of Long Ago
I’ve buried you, every place I move.
You keep ending up,
In my shaking hands.
I have buried you,
With my shaking hands.
You keep ending up,
Every place I been.
During the day I feel okay, with my head bowed and my mind doing over time. At 5:02PM I feel like I am doing well, that I am going to achieve something even though I am just drifting. But at 2:05AM I feel the monsters escape my soul through every breath I take. They sit with all their weight upon my chest and dig straws deep into my skin. Slowly the colour of life I collected over the years is sucked out of me. Without energy, without hope, much like my day time self, I drift. I guess it is unfortunate that this is the only time I really feel at peace within 24 hours of each and every day. That moment just before falling asleep.
In my dreams I am met by a man with a broken bearded visage in bright room with neon-purple lights piercing through the air like a viper to a rat. This man touches my shoulder softly, gives a small but life affirming smile as blood starts to trickle slowly out of his mouth and cascades through his beard, not ignoring a single lock of hair before meeting the cold harshness of the ground. I realise that this man is me. A future version. Broken beyond recognition.
Most people would be afraid and worried about such visions and would consider them a nightmare. Rightly so, I did too when it first began but now I have become so insouciant to it. Almost inured to it.
When I wake, I realise that my heart is still beating. Right now that is enough. It’s a starting point. It is all I need. Hopefully one night I will no longer need to burn trees and let the flames fly through my chest.
If you ever need me, I’m right here.
Currently listening to this at full volume and feeling my headphones shake around my head as I eat pizza… Living the dream?
But it is close.