A little bit of everything
"They always want to give me sort of a gentle lady-like part for some reason.
But you can’t just keep going on in the same rut. That’s why I was so glad to get the part I played in From Here to Eternity.” (Deborah Kerr)
Karen Holmes is a bitch who’s earned her bitchdom. She’s the Johanna Mason of From Here to Eternity. I can never decide whether I love her or Alma more.
Dear Verizon:
I want a new cell phone. Mine is getting old and you sent me a lovely text message some months ago saying I’m eligible for an upgrade. So I head over to the closest store, eagerly anticipating the joy of comparing stats and reviews and forking over a couple hundred dollars and...
It’s so fucked when you lose your glasses like you need them to see so how are you supposed to look for them cause you can’t see shit
you do realize that people don’t turn blind when they don’t have glasses on right? Everything is just a little blurry
Yes thank you I’ve been wearing glasses for 10 years I know how it is when I can’t find mine which is why I made this post
When I was in 8th grade a friend of mine and I were fucking around during our study period and he accidentally stabbed me in the arm with a pencil and the pencil was partially stuck in my arm but I was really shy in social situations so I just raised my hand and waited for the teacher to notice which took about five minutes so when he finally asked me what I needed I said “TJ accidentally stabbed me with a pencil a few minutes ago and now it’s hanging out of my arm, can I go see the nurse?”. He freaked out and yelled “OH MY GOD SEBASTIAN WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME RIGHT AWAY?” And I said right back “please don’t yell at me, I have a pencil in my arm, if anyone is yelling it should be me” and that sums up my attitude and personality fairly well tbh
I got this story from a customer of mine.
So, in the winter he drives a snow plow, and one of the plots he does is near a bunch of apartments. One of the turns is a little narrow, so he asks the residents to not park there, since he doesn’t want to sideswipe the cars.
Anyway, one day there was a pretty bad storm, and a lady parked her car in this spot. He asked her politely to move her car, because he didn’t want to hit her car, but she became very argumentative, cussing him out and refusing to move. Naturally, this made him mad.
So he plowed several feet of snow around her car, so high that you couldn’t even see her car. It was soggy snow too, so it froze overnight into a giant chunk of ice. A few days later he passed by, and she and some friends were trying to chip the car out. He laughed the whole way home.
fuck it im adding on to this
•you’re so scared of what your enemies will do to you – YOU’RE THE ONLY ENEMY YOU EVER SEEM TO LOSE TOO.
•fluent in french AND latin — SO AM I!
•i gotta go I gotta find alexander.
•let him know we’re on his side
•NO! he’ll consider this a personal slander
•I’ve got to stop a homicide
•All of Let It Go tbh
• eliiizaa is the best thing in our life! so never lose sight of the fact that you have been bless with the best wife!
•hon’
•what in the hell was that? WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU DOING DOWNTOWN!
THE TIME HAS COME. mine and phil’s top secret project (that he for some reason code named ’project x’ smh idek) will be revealed in 2 HOURS!
prepare yourselves.
This is not meant to be a sob story.
This is a poem to make you understand.In the past year alone,
I have attempted suicide 4 times.
In the past year,
the police have come to my house 2 times.
In the past year I ran out of resources
and had to check myself into a treatment center.In the treatment center,
there was a girl who had
welts on her arm deeper than mine.
It looked like she had
punched her fist through
a glass window
the way life had punched
the life out of her.In the treatment center
there was a girl who had hallucinations
about a man standing in the corner
that terrified her so much
that she couldn’t stand still.In the year before the last one,
I had two suicide attempts.
I was checked into an ER for my overdose
then a psychiatric hospital.This is a poem about all the people
who have been bounced back to a hospital
every time they thought they got their life back together
only to let their mental illness catch them off guard again.This is a poem for all the people
who are so weak that they
cannot stand on their own.This is a poem for the people
whose eating disorders are so strong
that they will refuse food
even when they weigh 70 pounds
and are forced by hospital staff
to be fed by a tube.This is a poem for the people
who have more hospital bracelets
than they do friends.This is a poem about
how I have to take 8 pills a day
to function somewhat normally.This is a poem about how I had
to drop out of public school
because my mental illness
has interfered with my eating,
my breathing, my sleeping,
and my ability to live.This is a poem about
how I cannot count the number of people
who have told me they wanted to die
on two hands.This is a poem about the 400,000
emergency room visits
for self inflicted injury in 2001.This is a poem for the 30,622
people who committed suicide in 2001.This is a poem for everybody with a mental illness
who is more scared of being judged
than they are of death.This is a poem for everybody who
has wanted to bleed away their pain.
This is a poem for everyone
that wanted to disappear,
hoping that if they shot themselves,
if they crashed their car,
that if they jumped off the roof of a building,
that they might shatter.This is a poem for everyone
who has tried to choke the pain
out of their life.
This is a poem for everyone who hoped
that an overdose would be a peaceful death.This is a fuck you to every hallucination,
every manic episode, every depressive episode,
every flashback, every panic attack, every nightmare,
every suicide attempt, every hospital visit,
every purge, every laxative, every crash diet,
every single doctor that told you you were doing it for attention,
every single bully that didn’t know what they were driving you to,
every family member that ever looked at you like you were a freak,
everybody that ever told you to “get over it”,
everybody who told you that you were faking it.
Everybody who ever told you that it wasn’t a big deal.Would you still be saying the same thing at our funerals?
Do us all a favor and tell us how beautiful
we “were” while we’re still alive.
How beautiful we are .This is a poem for everyone who ever thought
the world would be better off without them.
This is poem for everyone who ever needed
somebody to just listen without judging.
This is a poem for everyone who just needs someone
to care or believe in them.This is not meant to be a sad poem.
This is not a poem about overexaggeration.
It is a poem about reality.
It is a poem to finally make you understand.We are more than statistics.
We are stories.
if the supernatural worlds exists and i am not a part of it, well then it’s their loss not mine.
a family friend of mine is a gigantic book/movie/tv nerd and when she married her husband their biggest struggle was the fact that they now had two copies of every book, dvd, and boxed set and that is the kind of marriage I aspire to have
That is so beautiful.
I have this problem where ‘the other day’ for me ranges from yesterday to around 5 years ago
and ‘a friend of mine’ is literally anybody i’ve ever heard of whose opinion i like
confirmance
hotboyproblems
Licia Ronzulli, member of the European Parliament, has been taking her daughter Vittoria to the Parliament sessions for two years now.
Every time this is on my dash, it’s an automatic reblog.
