And for all those who have heard and read what the experts have to say"you make the world a better place just by simply stepping on it's surface." Watch out for creeps and beware of chips!

Side note: make a playlist entitled the end of the world or apocalypse and thank me later!

I'm a simp for all the girls in the world!?

When I finally understand nothing will stay a misery, and puzzles will be put into the right places and make complete sense but who likes that!

She gives compliments like a pro but when she is on the receiving end...

I will deal with the manipulation if shawty is cute

'What is in your head?'

#thread

1.You kill What you gave life into why is that?

2. Party at my house to drink our words and swallow our feelings?

3. I feel like a paralyzed animal left in the middle of the road

Someone should write a book entitled: how to not be 'me' without obliterating myself

I stress about stress before there's even stress to stress about

High key, I'm confused

There's this verse in Isaiah 9:6 that calls Jesus "Everlasting Father" or "የዘላለም አባት" and at first sight it looks like it's saying Jesus is a Father forever...

But the actual meaning is Father of Eternity which is to mean that He gave birth to eternity. Which's wild to think about.

been sober for a month and i can tell you that there’s no reason to quit alcohol

Crawls back to some hole*

The world is small. You think you don't know everything but everything is connected to you in many unseen ways you just don't have the courage to stare right at it and say " I know who you are"

#givemelemons

It will be a good day no matter what!!!

Walking on brittle leaves that crackle like old bones beneath your feet evokes a strange, trembling sensation, yet you feel a hollow gladness at your existence—a fragile flicker of being in the vast, indifferent void and you stump on it some more as if leaving a mark that you were here— the sun glares down like a cruel overseer and cars crawl past like ghosts, their endless hum a dirge for your restless mind, you sip pain and smile at strangers stare long enough and make them think "have we met before?", you keep the curve on your lips as well as the bitter sweetness scratching your throat; the grass whispers secrets to the wind–i would rather be at home— where darkness becomes a mother’s lullaby and you dream of giving your shattered love to another broken vessel, adrift and raw, as your atoms clash with the dull, suffocating air in a violent collision that births nothing but silence, you remember you are still dangling on the edge of your bed those four walls closing in like a coffin–i dont wanna fall back into my mattress– breathing stale despair into your lungs you get out without your keys; the road outside and the mountains looming like ancient judges mock your fragile attempts at meaning, making you feel so small beneath their crushing enormity as you fight to rise and break the surface of this drowning life to gasp for breath, but the water drags you down with merciless hands; sometimes the clouds soften and tricks you into thinking you like candies but its only on this part of the town,the little pastry shop near your house becomes the only place you could take a detour too, a fleeting promise, while sometimes the walk home with music in your ears feels like a fragile rebellion, a whispered prayer; yet the cold water on your skin spells out the harsh and relentless truth—the language of a world that never wanted you—as you learn the moon’s cruel dance of empty cups that never fill and black and white bleeding into gray, where silver linings lie like shards beneath your pillow, cutting you awake in the night; here lies the half-solved puzzle, the book unopened on the table, a teaspoon of belief and a slice of integrity served on a cracked plate taunting your hunger for meaning, as the story woven into your flesh long ago becomes unreadable, compelling you to pull at its threads-I would rather make a sweater out of it-