I saw this in tumblr like last week:

Do you ever just want to gently place your hands on somebody's cheeks and sharply turn their head on a 75 degree angle and snap their neck?

Reader: Well that took an unexpected turn

Op: So did their neck

Reader: Im dying

Op: So are they

Lol just thorught I'd share

These are the steps to get back at your feet, if ever that you’ve fallen somehow; first is to buy an ice cream near since ice cream is the source of happiness and the nostalgic sweet taste of every lick will take you back to childhood – where staying down wasn’t an option and getting up was the only choice; the second is to smile kindly anybody because, at the very least, they may smile back – you missed a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take as they say – and getting smiled at brings happiness to ourselves, and that you cannot deny; the third step is easily done like a walk in the park because you have to take a stroll once in a while and see the world in a different perspective so that maybe, you will find not only weight that drags you down by the world but also, sweet little things that lift your spirit just like the ice cream that you tasted earlier; fourth is to sit on the bench, look at what surrounds you while you contemplate on something and it can be anything, from the movie that you last watched or about the leaf that was dancing through the air in front, and if you want, you can buy another ice cream since this step will take much longer than the previous ones combined; fifth will probably be the hardest, but considering how easy the earlier steps are, you probably won’t find this too hard since you can easily control your mind and what I mean by that is that you have to lead you trails of thought to something so deep and existential, and there, you will looked at the world at a very different view; for the sixth step will be the continuation from the fifth since you just have to accept with a different view makes you a different person; finally, try not have self-pity onwards since not every change is good nor can you judge yourself as good that will never be correct and that if you made the correct conclusion as I expect then, congratulations, you are back on your feet ready to face any challenges, and to satisfy your curiosity, share your own conclusion if you reached and completed the step-by-step process so that we will have the chance to improve our self-therapy method for everyone to have and for this, I thank you.

The worst thing I have done?

Exist.

Okay, maybe that’s a little darker than what you were going for.

But that’s okay, because it’s true. For it is when I stop worrying about others, simily exist, that I am at my worst.

I am rude, uncaring, ignoring. No, that isn’t true. I am unthinking, brash, and socially inept (that’s better). I don’t think before I speak. I just exist.

It is the worst thing I have done.

I can't stop from thinking and over elaborating every single thing I do; you'd think it wouldn't be difficult to just shut down my thoughts, but here I am, once again, rethinking the darkest thoughts to ever consume a human without any escape from it because it seems that no matter what I do, even if I find momentary relief or silence, they'll always come back louder, breaking through the surface of my numb soul with a knife.

oh let me hear a rhyme

a cry in the night, across the neon city lights

listen for the anguished singing, and join in the wails

graffiti slung on creaking warehouses and prophets in back alleys proclaim

the despair of the world, the shadows of teeming skyscrapers

Despite the brilliance of sunrise we still cling to the dusk and the dust

Burn away paper skin and shatter porcelain bones

We shout as one, 'who are we, if we do not destroy ourselves?'

because there can be no light in a world of romantacized shadows

And so we lean over the bridge

Aim the gun

clutch the knife

open the bottle

yet even without the action being complete. we can feel ourselves falling, the poison seeping in our veins and the blood permeating the carpet

There's already a poison in us, flooding through our heart and into our brains, corrupting as it numbs

We stand alone, clutching our chests as our hearts thrum with the beat of traffic

W E H I D E W E H I D E W E H I D E W E H I D E W E H I D E W E H I D E

hope love

> find and hold fast is the only answer <

hatred fear

{ bury no one or they pity you

your feelings MUST KNOW

scream everyone and they cannot feel the same }

They say silence is half of a language. You can learn more about a person through their silence than through the words they speak. People learned a lot about me the day that I stood by and watched as someone got harassed by our peers. The regret I feel for not standing up for this person weighs on me like the full weight of the Earth itself was placed on my back. There have been more instances where my silence has allowed victims to suffer at the hands of others, and I will never truly be able to forgive myself for my inaction.

self love?

nah.

we don't call it that in my house.

instead,

we say:

I'M AWESOME.

I DESERVE TO BE HAPPY.

AND NO ONE CAN TELL ME OTHERWISE.

(and if they try to, i'll steal The_Contranym's sword and show them that they're wrong. or have The_Contranym show them for me. either way works. we'll see.)

When I hear the word "love," I see his face. Soft but masculine. His red hair framing his perfect cheeks. I see his lips, and I can feel them against my own. I see his cute little dimples. The ones I poke when he's trying to hide them. I see his nose. He always says it's too big, but I think it's perfect. I see his eyes, which are hard to pin down. Some days they're as blue as the ocean. Other days, they're green like the grass. But most days, they're some comination of blue and green. A perfect balance. I see all the emotion in those eyes. They always give him away.

When I hear the word "love," I smell the scent of his cologne. When I bury my face in his chest, I can smell it the best. I smell the cookies we baked on Christmas Eve. I smell the pine trees in the park we always go to for walks. I smell the cinamon car freshener he keeps between the seats of his car. I smell the candle in his room.

When I hear the word "love," I taste his mouth on mine. I taste the fried chicken we ate on our first date. I taste the mac n cheese we made when it was our first time cooking together. I taste the bread rolls I smuggled out of the prom you took me to. I taste the lasagna we ate for our six month anniversary.

When I hear the word "love," I hear the music from that prom. I hear the song we danced to for the first time. I hear him teach me how to hold a putter at minigolf. I hear his laugh when I miss the hole ten times. I hear the words to the movie we were at when he kissed me. I hear the barks of his dog the first time I went to his house. I hear him telling me for the first time that he loves me on skype. I hear the sound of him ending the skype call, only to have me call him right back. I hear myself saying over and over, "you love me?" and him answering every time with, "yes babygirl, I love you!" I hear myself saying for the first time, "I love you too!" after a couple minutes. I hear the laughter that accompanies us being together. I hear his breathing as we take naps together.

When I hear the word "love," I feel his fingers latching onto mine for the first time, unsure at first, but growing with confidence. I feel his strong arms wrapped around me. I feel the butterflies I felt for the first three months of our relationship. I feel his lips against mine. I feel my head on his chest that rises and falls with every breath as we cuddle on the couch.

When I hear the word "love," I feel him. My boyfriend, my best friend, my confidant, my whole world. I feel the love we have for eachother that somehow grows more and more every day.

What is love?

Is it the reason ‘Mom’ forgives ‘Dad’, even though he is wrong? He comes late every night, commiting crimes he forced me to keep secret, with a cheap gift in his hand. They fight and forgive, but they say it’s all in the name of love.

Is it the reason he threatened my career? Kicked me out when all I wanted was to chase my dreams. I told myself I didn’t need their help and survived on my own. I thought I had escaped. But he came back, took my money all in the name of love.

Is it the reason he threatened my cat, the only living being that I cherish? He took everything, just so I can be 'successful'. He threatened everything and everyone I had, all in the name of love.

If this is love, then I don’t want it.