mybrain

We'll Be Fine

We slept alone last night.

We thought

we’d just try it out.

There was only one

wet toothbrush

in the fluoride freckled cup.

I found I may enjoy

his breath,

fogging up the back of my neck.

I notice when his belt

isn’t slung over my desk chair

and that he

is a much more powerful sedative

than anything over the counter.

The next morning

across the red café table

a groggy voice relents,

Can we never do that again?

Anna Meteyer

The Secret Life of the American Teenager
  • Amy:omg I love you ben im pregnant
  • Madison and lauren:OMG NO WAY *tells everyone*
  • Ben:aw I love you amy lets get married
  • *amy and ben get married...kind of*
  • Adrian:ricky have sex with me pls I love you
  • Ricky:*has sex with some chick*
  • Adrian:OMG YOU HAD SEX WITH AMY
  • Adrian:ben, they had sex so now we have to
  • *ben and adrian have sex*
  • Madison and lauren:OMG NO WAY *tells everyone*
  • Ricky:*has sex with some chick*
  • Adrian:ben im pregnant with your baby
  • Ben:okay lets get married
  • Grace:sex before marriage killed me dad
  • Jack:omg someone pls have sex with me
  • Everyone:sex x100000 per episode

"Okay, Mr Giffen. I’m going to keep moving this closer. You continue to only look out of the corner of your eye. Now…when does it start looking like a set of wooden spoons and stop looking like a d*** and balls?"

"What are you taking about? That obviously a d… Oh. So THAT’S why it’s on a sign for a bake sale! That makes much more sense!"

#MyBrain

I always do this to myself. I wish I knew how to care less. I wish I wasn’t so loyal and forgiving. I wish I didn’t have as big of a heart. I wish I wasn’t always the hurt one. Maybe some people are meant to live life alone. And i guess I’m one of those people.

to the boys who make you dizzy:

it begins as a tidal wave. it punches you in the stomach and rips your heart out. you are 20 years old living off of .99 cent coffee and drowning in the scent of his cologne. he stares straight into your eyes and suddenly you feel the need to gasp for air but you don’t. you play it cool- you always play it cool. because it is much easier to look away and pick at your fingernails instead of staring straight back at him. it is much easier to swallow your words instead of blurting out, “i know you and i are simple but the way you laugh makes my body tingle.” it is much easier to pretend that your feelings got lost in the attic of old lovers or that your parents divorce highlighted the evidence that people don’t stick around. because god forbid you let him know that someone like him could really make things right for someone like you. god forbid he finds out that you actually feel a sense of comfort whenever he’s around. you hide your feelings so well, you’ve forgotten where you’ve placed them. except on the nights you spend alone in your bed wishing someone was there to clean out the dusty corners of your mind. you think of him and his gentle hands. you think of calm waters and clear skies. you think, “i shouldn’t have played it cool. i should’ve wrapped my hands around your neck as if saying ‘i’m drowning in you because i don’t want to take the easy way out anymore.’”

Can someone please explain to me how American Sniper is “racist propaganda”? The movie is literally a biography based on a book written by Chris Kyle, the subject of the movie. Not only does he suffer from ptsd and depression when he gets home from his FOUR TOURS OF DUTY FIGHTING FOR THIS COUNTRY, he is killed by a fellow veteran. The main story of the movie is him slowly disconnecting from his family back home and also feeling shitty for having to kill kids who were attacking US soldiers. He’s fighting in the war against Iraq. Where both terrorists and innocent civilians were killed by our troops. Everyone acknowledges that. Documenting/fictionalizing a war that DID HAPPEN and an american sniper who WAS A REAL PERSON AND SAVED LIVES isn’t racist propaganda.

Feel free to give me your perspective.

"I am not an angel,’ I asserted; ‘and I will not be one till I die: I will be myself. Mr. Rochester, you must neither expect nor exact anything celestial of me - for you will not get it, any more than I shall get it of you: which I do not at all anticipate.”
― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
#ambition #books #british #book #beauty #britishliterature #charlottebronte #confidence #cold #directioner #determined #edmondrostand #edwardthomashardy #effyourbeautystandards #english #englishloveaffair #emilybronte #inspiration #janeeyre #janeausten #love #literature #motivation #mybrain #nocontrol #nerd #nohate #poetry #quotes #reading #rain #selfesteem #wildhearts #wutheringheights

i take photographs of everything i experience because i’m convinced that one day i’m going to get alzheimer’s and somehow everything is going to slowly disappear. i’ll forget the face of the boy who bought me flowers and played with my hair in the dark. i’ll forget what street i grew up on and the color of my mothers eyes. i’ll forget about my obsession with van gogh and that i prefer white wine over red. i am going to forget every god damn thing that made my knuckles bleed and every god damn thing that made me whole. but at least i’ll still have my photographs.

recipe for good days

i didn’t do my english homework, but besides that my life has been extremely on point. by “on point” i mean that i’ve been going to the gym and brushing my hair (sometimes) and trying new foods. i’m thinking before i speak and i can’t remember the last time i stole something from a store. the other day i said to someone “find your inner peace because your negativity is overwhelming my sacred space”. a year ago i would’ve said something along the lines of “what makes you think i care about your shitty life?” or “poor you, children are still dying in africa you know”. so when i look at it, when i take a step back and scan the bigger picture, i realize that my “on point” life consists of remembering to wash my face and to answer a text. it consists of raising my hand in class and telling someone that i like their glasses. it doesn’t have to be that i won the lottery or that the love of my life loves me back. it doesn’t involve front row concert tickets and fancy louis vuittons. my life is “on point” because i remembered to tie my shoe laces this morning.

Have you ever been so fascinated
You dream about their smile
Or the way they look up at you
While being between your thighs

That the thought of them arouses you
But also drives you mad
This boy is creeping in your brain
But you know he can not stay.