Emma🖤

raise ur hand if You’re tryin real hard but it’s gettin worse n worse evryday

Sometimes I want to let the mental illness consume me fully so I can stop fighting and not be exhausted anymore. Sometimes I want to give up and feel the release.

you can’t hurt me if I’m ✨gone✨

I am such a burden to everyone. I’m disgusting and I’m needy and nobody actually likes or cares about me. I’m such a piece of shit.

I’m so fucking tired. I can’t do this anymore.

:･ﾟ✧: ' ♡ ･ﾟ✧ drugs ✧･ﾟ ♡ : '✧･ﾟ:

The funeral home and chapel where Dylan Klebold’s private viewing took place in Denver,Colorado. Dylan was in an open coffin, with beanie babies lining his head (this helped to cover trauma caused by the gunshot wound). His father was very enraged that day, asking who would give his son a gun. His mother on the other hand wondered how he could be anti-Semitic, as he was half Jewish and she being full. She also fell into the preacher’s arms and cried,she had lost her baby and all that ran through her head is that she hadn’t been a good mother.

April 24, 1999 “Only a handful of people came to say goodbye to Dylan Klebold. His long, skinny body fit awkwardly into the cardboard casket where it would lie until cremation. His hands were folded on his chest, and stuffed animals surrounded him. His family and few friends shared memories, the happy ones about Dylan the Boy Scout, Dylan the Little Leaguer, Dylan the wrestler. There was his mother Susan’s favorite story: One afternoon, Dylan, age 10, came running back from the creek with a pile of leeches. Normally unflappable, Klebold’s mother was disgusted by her son’s blood-sucking treasures; Dylan loved it, the fun of grossing out Mom. For those who attended the service, it was as if Dylan’s life had ended at age 12, not five years later in a murderous rampage that left 12 students, a teacher, and the two killers dead, and a nation grieving and groping for answers. That wasn’t the young man Susan Klebold raised. “This monster,” she told her hairdresser, Dee Grant, tears coming down her cheeks, “was not the son I knew.”

Killers as Dogs (part two) (end me)

yeahh yeah... today Najajahwhshdbxjdbdnd

can u imagine a family member going through your phone after you died and be like “this nasty bitch…. RIP tho”

Footage of Eric Harris when he found out the bombs did not go off (colorized)

IM SCREAMING

Lmaooooo

Damn some serious sas

lmaoooo yessss Mac as Eric in this is so suiting 😂😂

LMFAOOOOAOAOOAOAO I CANTTT

“Eric took off work when his dog sparky started having seizures, and Dylan filled in for him.” “Eric would sometimes let sparky sleep on his bed.” “Sparky was a Yorkie.”

some people need to learn how to treat addicts like actual humans, not some kind of subhuman creature who’s okay to treat like trash

honestly if I survive the next 3 years of my life I will be impressed with myself

today's mood, 06/09/2022.

I am going back to that bad place again.

i be in my own head fighting for my life