Literally nothing feels right anymore and I have no idea why I’m still around.
No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world.
We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.
(Dead Poets Society, 1989)
I can’t tell if I absolutely love myself or if I dislike so many parts of myself and I use narcissim as a defense mechanism. Who the fuck knows.
I am so sick of going out of my way for other people to make them feel better when they won’t do the same for me. Ignoring me when I’m just trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, is not the answer. And this is why trusting yourself and sticking to yourself is the only answer.
Rape isn’t about sex. You guys know that, right? Or do you? It’s about dominance. It’s about power. It’s about humiliating someone in the worst way possible. It has nothing to do with sex.