Suicide and self harm aren’t always bed buddies. Just sayin’.


“Every girl is expected to have caucasian blue eyes, full Spanish lips, a classic button nose, hairless Asian skin with a California tan, a Jamaican dance hall ass, long Swedish legs, small Japanese feet, the abs of a lesbian gym owner, the hips of a nine-year-old boy, the arms of Michelle Obama and doll tits. This is why everyone is struggling.” 
-Tina Fey

“Every girl is expected to have caucasian blue eyes, full Spanish lips, a classic button nose, hairless Asian skin with a California tan, a Jamaican dance hall ass, long Swedish legs, small Japanese feet, the abs of a lesbian gym owner, the hips of a nine-year-old boy, the arms of Michelle Obama and doll tits. This is why everyone is struggling.”

-Tina Fey

(via yelyahwilliams)

Possibly the most intellectual joke I’ve ever lol’d at

Possibly the most intellectual joke I’ve ever lol’d at

(Source: xoxothescenery, via humortrain)

True story

True story

(Source: pleatedjeans, via humortrain)

TRUE!

TRUE!

(Source: pleatedjeans, via humortrain)

This isn’t me. This is my cat, Carel. She’s cuter than me.

This isn’t me. This is my cat, Carel. She’s cuter than me.

<3

Choking on clichès.

The truth needs to be told about break ups.

No matter how many people tell you that 'time is a great healer', and 'there's plenty more fish in the sea', and that ‘you’ll find someone better, honestly, he was a dick’, you will feel shit. Rejected, ashamed, angry, hurt, fucking furious, and in my particular case… a bit mental. And NO NUMBER OF Beyoncè/Kelly Clarkson/Gloria Gaynor girl power, ‘I-don’t-need-no-scumbag-boyfriend-cause-all-he-did-was-drive-my-Jag-and-hit-on-my-friends-and-I-never-loved-him-anyway’ post-break-up motivational songs is going to ACTUALLY make you feel any better. You DID love him, ‘Yoncè. Stop pretending, listen to some Coldplay and have a cry.

I’ve researched this, thoroughly, I’ve had my ‘I will survive’/’Best thing I never had’ phase so I know. I learned all the words and everything, sang into the hairbrush, whole ten yards. At the end I still ended getting into bed and crying to Jeff Buckley, missing the dickhead who broke my heart (and then lied about it to all of my friends… that’s a story for another time.)

I would like to clear one thing up: Like most people, I have had to deal with far worse things in my lifetime than this breakup. I understand that some people don’t even need Gloria to get over it, let along Beyoncè. However I do doubt your mental state if losing someone you purportedly loved doesn’t somewhat stop you in your tracks. Fucking stopped me.

Gonna go Google country songs about break ups and eat ice cream. Bye. 

P.S. Not really. I’m going to put my public face on and go do a Biology exam. See. Might be impervious to the comforting words of Gloria et al. but I am Getting On With It. I am sparta! x