Life isn't bliss, life is just this;

It's living

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Where television is fantastic and is way ahead of film, is it doesn’t feel the need to polarize women so much. Male writers, and I say this with all love and respect, often want to make a woman either the angel or the whore, make her the witch or put her on a pedestal. They’re not mutually exclusive. You don’t have to be practical and politically savvy and not be a good person. You can be a good human being and just be shrewd. We are as complex and contradictory as the men. - Natalie Dormer

(Source: rubyredwisp, via bradleyjizzames)

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I need to get this out somewhere.

God, I miss my ex and I miss drugs, and I hate not knowing whether he loved me and was just too selfish and immature to show it healthily or if he never loved me at all and just played me like a fool. A mutual friend says he was still seeing his ex while he was with me which would explain why they’re back together now and counting it as a year instead of 3 months and fuck, that hurts. Because I knew he was going to destroy me and in the beginning he told me so and tried to leave me alone but I begged him not to.

And then he took advantage of me in so many ways. He lived with me, apparently said to our mutual friend, “well Tony, if you had internet I’d live with you instead”. Tony is a 68 year old creep for fuck’s sake and I don’t know if he’s lying to me but Kalvin told him he’d rather wank than have sex with me and I know that was true so fucking great. Other guys want to use me for my body, he wanted to use me for my house. He insisted he didn’t, he came to see me when I was out of hospital and he held me and I cried. And he said we both fucked up and oh god he’s with her and I’m alone. And in so much pain. I was already ruined but I feel like he smashed my broken pieces into dust and yeah that sounds angsty and melodramatic as fuck but it’s 5am and I’ve been crying for hours. I care too much and I don’t care enough about myself.

I thought I was dying today, again. And all I could think about was how I was supposed to die on April 29th but I kept thinking about him, kept texting him. He couldn’t be bothered to come himself and save me but he got others to. He saved my life and didn’t even want to be in it like he was before, even though he said he wished he could be.

It’s not fair, it never is and it’s still hurting. It shouldn’t still be hurting.

Why did he save me after everything he did to me if he didn’t care? Why did he do those things to me if he cared though? Fuck. I just want to forget and the only way I know how is drugs but I’m too fucking dirt poor to get any. I’m pathetic and stupid.

Filed under personal vent mental health stupid fucking girl ignore this tw suicide overdoses eds

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I can’t even fucking write anymore because all that flows out of my pen is that stupid fucking name of yours and the way your eyes made my knees shatter.
You were my drug and you’re still not worked out of my veins, you fuck.
j.g. (via arsp0etica)