in a bus station

pls help me

my living situation is once again very bad. im not asking for any money im asking for ideas on how i can safely escape. my therapist and parents have been telling me that their abuse is my fault, i am entirely reliant on my parents for transportation because i live in the middle of the woods a half hour away from the nearest city and bus station. i have attempted to run away several times all of which have resulted in angering my parents and worsening my situation. today things blew up and its not safe for me to stay here anymore but i dont know how im supposed to get myself out of this, please help me figure this out im begging you all please thank you i hope youre all having good days and staying safe and warm

Think of the sound of water over stones in a cold stream, and the sound of wind through green trees on a late May afternoon

Think of the sound you make when you let go after holding your breath for a very, very long time. Think of the gladdest sound you know: the sound of dawn on the first day of spring break, the sound of a bottle of Coke opening, the sound of a crowd cheering in your ears because you’re coming down to the last part of a race and you’re ahead. Think of the sound of water over stones in a cold stream, and the sound of wind through green trees on a late May afternoon in Central Park. Think of the sound of a bus coming into the station carrying someone you love. Then put all those together.

~ Gary D. Schmidt, The Wednesday Wars (Clarion Books; Reprint edition (May 18, 2009)

Wait for someone who bumps mouths clumsily with yours cos they’re too busy smiling to kiss you properly. Yeah. Wait for that.
—  Azra Tabassum (aka 5000letters)

The shade was real

Naked Bodies

Is it that mind boggling for people to find out, at some art schools, students have to stare at real bare naked bodies 3 hours daily for life drawing classes and no male students walk around with boners nor disrespect the nude models in sexual ways?  Once the mysticism is taken away (literally) and the familiarity sets in, they’re just bodies with no stigma.

Today, I fucked up... by running over myself with my wife's car...

I drove my wife’s car (a 2001 Hyundai Accent) to the bus station today, and after work, as I pulled into the driveway, I had a monumental brain fart.

I left the car in neutral as always, however I failed to set the handbrake. My driveway is an inclined gravel carport, roughly 2.5 car lengths long. It has a waist high brick wall on the drivers side (getting higher as you go down the driveway) and a carport overhead, supported by steel beams, one of which comes out the top of said wall.

I stepped out the drivers door, and took a step away from the car. It was my neighbour across the street that alerted me to the problem. He must have seen it start to move, so he shouted.

I jumped towards the drivers seat to hit the brake pedal with my foot. This is what followed:

I was hit by the still open drivers door, and knocked to the ground, then dragged downhill. The door hit the steel beam of the carport, with my hand/wrist caught between. My hips were slammed between the door and the bricks, and my knees were dragged along the gravel. My right ankle was run over by the front wheel of the car. I was left in a heap, and the car rolled I’ve the street, and into my neighbours yard. It stopped short of his hedge/house (lucky!) and sat on his front lawn.

I am fine, with only some cuts, a sprained ankle, and a lot of bruises on my hips, legs and arms. Plus some gravel rash of course.

The car has a ruined drivers door, which I will now need to replace. My pride… Yeah that’s gone.

I think the worst part is how my wife is taking it all. Shes not stopped picking fun at me since it happened. An example:

Her: “You’re an idiot.”

Me: “I am aware.”

Her: “No, you’re not a were, you’re an idiot all the time.”

So there you have it.

TL;DR I ran over myself with my wife’s car, and I doubt I’ll ever live it down.

Check out more TIFUs: Internet`s best fuck ups are here.