GH FIRST NATION CANADA
Among the broken mirrors, I don't look the same...
cloudedmind2015 reblogged
ode-to-my-car-radio-deactivated
cloudedmind2015 reblogged
brokxnn
reblog this it takes 4 seconds.
letmeflee
Never stop reblogging this
cloudedmind2015 reblogged
Source: c-isnenegro
cloudedmind2015 reblogged
Source: postsecret.com
cloudedmind2015 reblogged
Man do I need someone to talk to😬
cloudedmind2015 reblogged
cloudedmind2015 reblogged
Source: leave-me-colourless
cloudedmind2015 reblogged
If they think I’m okay they’ll stop asking questions…
cloudedmind2015 reblogged
reclusivehermit-deactivated2021
People always want to know what it feels like, so I’ll tell you: there’s a sting when you first slice, and then your heart speeds up when you see the blood, because you know you’ve done something you shouldn’t have, and yet you’ve gotten away with it. Then you sort of go into a trance, because it’s truly dazzling—that bright red line, like a highway route on a map that you want to follow to see where it leads. And—God—the sweet release, that’s the best way I can describe it, kind of like a balloon that’s tied to a little kid’s hand, which somehow breaks free and floats into the sky. You just know that balloon is thinking, Ha, I don’t belong to you after all; and at the same time, Do they have any idea how beautiful the view is from up here? And then the balloon remembers, after the fact, that it has a wicked fear of heights.
When reality kicks in, you grab some toilet paper or a paper towel (better than a washcloth, because the stains don’t ever come out 100 percent) and you press hard against the cut. You can feel your embarrassment; it’s a backbeat underneath your pulse. Whatever relief there was a minute ago congeals, like cold gravy, into a fist in the pit of your stomach. You literally make yourself sick, because you promised yourself last time would be the last time, and once again, you’ve let yourself down. So you hide the evidence of your weakness under layers of clothes long enough to cover the cuts, even if it’s summertime and no one is wearing jeans or long sleeves. You throw the bloody tissues into the toilet and watch the water go pink before you flush them into oblivion, and you wish it were really that easy.
Jodi Picoult, Handle with Care (via reclusivehermit)
cloudedmind2015 reblogged
make-america--psycho-again-deac
cloudedmind2015 reblogged
more-like-suomi-deactivated2015
I just want to sleep until I feel better…
More-like-suomi (via more-like-suomi)
cloudedmind2015 reblogged
Source: leave-me-colourless
cloudedmind2015 reblogged
Source: leave-me-colourless
cloudedmind2015 reblogged
I hate myself


