hit with a bus

*male writer voice* i don’t remember her name. it’s not important. i met her at a record store and she went home with me because i offered to buy her cigarettes. she had amazing perky breasts. we drank cheap whiskey and had sex three times that night and then she told me she wanted to be a dragonfly because they were free. i slept with her many times after that. but one day she stopped returning my calls and i don’t know why. that was seven years ago. on monday she got hit by a bus and died. i saw it in the newspaper so i went to her funeral and it made me sad. i don’t know why. i hate my mother even though she pays my rent while i write poetry about masturbating in the shower

I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, Kiss me harder, and You’re a good person, and, You brighten my day. I live my life as straight-forward as possible.
Because one day, I might get hit by a bus.

Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands.

But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate.
And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care.
We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans.
We never know when the bus is coming.

—  Rachel C. Lewis, Tell The People You Love That You Love Them.

I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, Kiss me harder, and You’re a good person, and, You brighten my day. I live my life as straight-forward as possible.
Because one day, I might get hit by a bus.

Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands.

But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate.

And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care.

We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans.

We never know when the bus is coming.

—  Rachel C. LewisTell The People You Love That You Love Them.
Jingle bells
Yuri falls
Yurio has a friend
JJ cries
Fandom dies
Gotta watch it till the end, hey
Viktor smiles
To the other guys
wHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON
Pichit slays, chris… still gay
Ep 12 is on the way, hey
—  Me when yoi hits you like a bus but u gotta stay festive

The most important thing is to zone out and look at the bigger picture. It doesn’t matter if you’re feeling bad at this moment. What you do next is what makes you who you are. And some things are bigger than yourself. Your feelings or your hopes. The bigger picture is your life and what will come out of it and if you’re feeling horrible and you just want to get hit by a bus.

Look at the bigger picture. Don’t think about yourself. No one ever got successful by thinking of themselves. You think about life. You think about your mother who gave everything for you. You think about all of the people who see hope in you. And you keep going. Even if you hit rock bottom. The only way to go from rock bottom is up.


I just feel like no one ever realizes that some thing are bigger than themselves. And even I myself have trouble sometimes remembering not to take everything so harshly. But then I try to think and remember that it isn’t for me. That everything I do doesn’t depend on if i do or don’t want to do it. Everything I do depends on the bigger picture and everyone around me and happiness and reaching goals and celebration and friendship. And myself is so much smaller than the importance of all of that.

shout-out to everyone in the u.s. who is surviving this election cycle by the goddamn skin of their teeth

to anyone who can’t laugh at late night comedy routines about those comments on the bus because his words hit you someplace raw and vulnerable and way too close to home

to anyone with an anxiety disorder who has experienced a mini-panic attack imagining what would happen to this country under a gop victory

to anyone too young to vote (especially those of you living deep in red counties, outnumbered in every classroom debate as you insist, heart in your throat, that immigrants are human beings, only to get shouted down. i have been you, kiddo, and i swear to god you will get through this.)

to women. full-stop. all of you.

most of all, to immigrants and people of color and trans people and jewish people and muslims–to anyone who absolutely cannot stay calm or reasonable debating this election because your own goddamn personal safety is on the line and this is not the time to play devil’s advocate, josh.

you have all been through the goddamn wringer for months. obviously if you’re 18 or older and you have citizenship, vote this november, but also: hey, are you okay? do you need anything? do you want a hug? do whatever you need to do to feel okay, because just by following current events for the last few months you have earned it. deep breaths. take a walk. meditate. watch cat videos. reread a favorite book.

less than a month left. we’re so close. take care of yourselves.

What I was thinking during Sherlock(to follow up my other posts)

- Sherlock talking to the baby
- Baby hitting Sherlock with rattle
- John riding a bus
- John has a flower in his hair!!!!
- Lestrade!
- Sherlock smiles
- Johns black and blue plaid shirt!!
- HE STILL DOESNT KNOW HIS NAME!!!
- He called him Greg!
- Comparing Sherlock to a baby!!!! Ahhhhh
- I love this family thing going on
- Sherlock doesn’t know who Margaret Thatcher is? Or is he bluffing?
- Who the fuck dresses like a seat
- The melted power ranger
- Broken Margaret Thatcher bust is related to Moriarty
- He called a baby fully functioning!! Fuckin Mycroft
- The pirate theme continues
- John made a ballon substitute!!!
- John was helping Ms Hudson with a sudoku
- Is he bullshitting or is he just Moriarty obsessed?
- Both
- “This is my game face”
- Ohhhhhhhh he traded Mary for John
- Now comparing John to a Dog
- John with the baby carrier
- John has his collar popped!!
- Is it just me or is John and Mary’s bed shorter than normal? Is it cause they’re shorter?
- What was up with John and the phone/whatever it was?
- I love how supportive everyone is of Johns’ blog
- He just got hit with a stool and brushed it off
- Always with the pools
- Why does Sherlock not have backup?
- Moriarty is connected to the busts
- A.G.R.A
- Goddamnit Mary
- Fuck
- Fucking hell
- Awwwww he admitted to having another friend
- She was supposed to have destroyed it
- One of the masked people is Mary
- Ooooooooooooo it’s 4 people
- We die?
- Is he having just normal flashbacks or is it PTSD?
- Ooo secret meeting
- Alex, Gabriel, me and AJ
- So AJ is the bust buster
- Has AJ been tortured for the past 6 years and wants to kill Mary because he thought she betrayed him?
- Did he grab his chest where Mary shot him?
- Awwww Sherlock being protective of his family
- Ohhhhhh Bitch she drugged John too
- Mycroft is Wikipedia
- ammo omma
- Mary’s acting on the plane
- Ohhh shit she switched places with the stewardess
- Not a fan of Mary’s black hair
- Ohhhhh Sherlock found her hahahaha
- “You Bastard”
- Did Sherlock plan this so Mary would have to tell John the truth? Noooooo that can’t be it
- R. She. Gave. The. Baby. Her. Name
- Don’t kill each other
- Bro John is gonna shoot your bitch ass
- Welp he dead
- Is ammo related to the third brother?
- Who is the bitch on the bus?
- Ohhhhh he’s getting hit on ahhhhhh
- Johns lock screen is precious
- I love how they’re comparing their child to a horror film
- John who the fuck are you texting?
- Is/was john cheating on Mary?
- Mary read the texts
- Not the third brother. Code word love
- Or not
- Receptionist?
- I love how diplomatic they were about who should stay with their child
- Ooooooo it’s Vivian
- If John plays hero and gets shot I swear
- FUCKING MARY!!!!
- Nooooooooo
- I ship johnlock but nooooooooo
- Nooooooooo
- Mary can’t die
- DID SHE JUST FUCKING DIE OR IS THIS ANOTHER FAKE DEATH
- John what is that noise?
- It’s anger and grief
- Don’t blame Sherlock it’s not his fault
- Fuck he’s back with the therapist
- Is it John or Sherlock with her?
- Ooooooo it’s Sherlock!!!
- Mycroft and his umbrella
- What’s up with the sticky note?
- Did Mycroft just say Sherrinford?
- FUCKIN MORIARTY
- WHAT!!!!!?
- Nooo Mary whyyyyyy
- Was she trying to be humorous or is she involved with Moriarty?
- John won’t even talk to Sherlock
- But what does the note say!!!!??
- Save John Watson? Whaaaaat?
- GO TO HELL SHERLOCK?!?!?
- Whatttttt?!?