Polkadot
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Sin datos24 horas
-47 días
-630 días
Archivo de publicaciones
310
Bitch better red my book rec...made me cry and had a total reading hour of at most 5hours
310
Yes,bro catcall girls. What you gonna do?
Bro could be me for all that matters...stay y'all
310
Stop making it a big deal? No. I was crying over something stupid—something tiny, something that isn’t even mine to feel. It doesn’t affect me, doesn’t concern me, shouldn’t matter at all…but it did. And I hate that I can forgive everyone else without hesitation, lift them up like they’re untouchable, yet when it comes to myself I can’t let anything go. I tear myself apart for the smallest things.
Why is it that tears get labeled as weakness? Why did I grow up believing that breaking down was something to hide? And no, I don’t care about tears of happiness—I never had them, not once, not until now, and even then it felt foreign, like my body didn’t know what to do with joy.
Sometimes I swear I’m going to snap open one day and pour out everything I’ve bottled up—turn into a damn waterfall, the kind people laugh at because it’s too much for something so little. And maybe I will be a joke. Maybe that’s what scares me.
But right now? I just want to cry. I want to let the tears fall for things that aren’t even my business, things so tiny and ridiculous and childish that I’d never admit it out loud. I want to soak my sleeves with feelings I’m not supposed to have. I want to stop acting like I’m too strong to break over “nothing.”
I don’t want to be that person who later forces a laugh, stares up at the ceiling, and mutters something to diverge on looker from me- just to pretend it didn’t wreck me for a minute. I want to feel it. Even if it’s raw. Even if it’s ugly. Even if it makes no damn sense.....
310
Normalize cancelling schedules at the last second cuz simply you don't want to...tf is wrong with that, huh?
