word nails

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that’s real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar’s chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way
—  Hurt by Nine Inch Nails
I crack my knuckles while making sales,
I hide my ugly fingernails. 

Growing up, 
people always told me
nails were a strong indicator of health. 
In response, I’d look down,
I’d analyze the bent, the broken,
I’d criticize ridges, softly spoken,
and I would take offense.
How could I deserve this recompense?

Years passed. 
I held my pencil to hide my thumb,
convinced that I was healthy,
I decided to act numb.

Now I’m looking for an answer
something physical, you see.
An explanation for my pain
an excuse to set me free. 
I don’t need to form these fists
to hide my nails within my grip
Perhaps this answer’s been here
all this time, at my fingertip.
—  “The bent, the broken,” by Grazia Curcuru
shakespeare aesthetics

romeo and juliet: suburban july. scraped knees, bruised knuckles, blood in your teeth. bare feet on hot concrete. restlessness. your high school’s empty parking lot. love poems in your diary. a window open to coax in a breeze. burning inside. an ill-fitting party dress, a t-shirt you cut up yourself, the time you tried to give yourself bangs. biking to your friend’s house. bubble gum. gas station ice. the feeling that you’ve met before. rebellion. a car radio playing down the street. cheap fireworks. a heart drawn on the inside of your wrist with sharpie. switchblades. red solo cups. dancing in your bedroom. screaming yourself hoarse. running out of options. the forlorn-looking basketball hoop at the end of the cul-de-sac. climbing onto your roof at night while your parents are asleep. flip-flops. a eulogy written on looseleaf. the merciless noontime sun.

hamlet: speaking in a whisper. holding your breath. a browning garden. a half-remembered story. furniture covered with sheets. fog at dawn, mist at twilight. losing touch. the ethereal space between winter and spring. the soft skin at your temple. the crack in the hallway mirror. things you’d say if you knew the words. uncombed hair. books with writing in the margins, books with cracked spines, books with lines scratched out. prayers on all souls’ day. a chipped ceramic bathtub. a cold stone floor. uncomfortable awareness of your own heartbeat. the sparrow that got in your house. shadows. the creek you played in as a child. a dirty night gown. a big black t-shirt. a collection of your favorite words. soil under your nails. ghost stories. the strangeness of your own name in your mouth. deep silence. exhaustion. a cliff with a long, long drop down.

twelfth night: wicker deck furniture. new england summer. big dark sunglasses and a blonde bob. a storm over the ocean, patio umbrellas flapping in the wind. chlorine smell. muffled laughter. sarcasm. starched cuffs. day drinking. bay windows. the idea of love, love for the idea of love, love for love’s sake. hangovers. wandering over the sand dunes. a vagabond with a guitar, a crab fisherman with tattoos, a pretty boy with a slackened tie. a light house. growing too close. boat shoes. feeling yourself change. finger guns. big floppy sun hats. double-speak. a song you keep listening to. turning red under their gaze. margaritas drunk on an inflatable pool lounger. string lights on a balmy night. sleepy june days. fights you’re unprepared for, hope you weren’t expecting, pranks that go too far. bad poetry. pining. pool noodles. becoming less of a stranger.

macbeth: the space where your grief used to be. a bird that’s lost an eye. old blood stains. heavy blinds. the smell of sweat, the stillness after battle. a fake smile. a curse. the taste of metal at the back of your tongue. your house, unfamiliar in the dark. a dusty crib. a sulfur smell. an orange pill bottle. streaks in the sink. a black cocktail dress. your hand on the doorknob, shaking. chilly breeze. crunching from the gravel driveway on a moonless night. clenched hands. a rusty swing set. a flashing digital clock stuck on 12:00. a snake that crosses your path, an owl that watches you, a dog that runs when you approach. red smoke. dark clouds. cool steel. tile floors. footsteps in the hallway late at night. a baggy suit that used to fit before. visions. insomnia headaches. nursery rhymes. being too far in to go back now. 

much ado about nothing: the high drama of small towns. a pickup truck, military supply duffel bags in the hall, hugs all around. tulip bulbs. a wraparound porch, a pitcher of iced tea. barbecue. a rubber halloween mask. someone on your level. indian summer. ill-timed proclamations. stomach-clutching laughter. rushing in. not minding your business. crepe paper. white lies. secrets written down and thrown away. southern hospitality. homemade curtains in the kitchen, a sink full of roses. hiding in the bushes. old friends. the wedding dress your grandma wore, and her mama before her. a dog-eared rhyming dictionary. camomile with honey. the intimacy of big parties. lawn flamingos. gossip. a crowded church. friendly rivalries. unfriendly rivalries. shit getting real. love at five hundredth sight. not realizing you have a home until you’re there. 

king lear: cement block buildings. power lines that birds never perch on. the end of the world. useless words. rainless thunder, heat lightning, a too-big sky. arthritic knuckles. broken glass. chalk cliffs. the pulsing red-black behind closed eyes. something you learned too late. wet mud that sucks up your shoes while you walk. a cold stare. empty picture frames. empty prayers. the obscenity of seeing your parents cry. a treeless landscape. bloody rags. grappling in the dark with reaching hands. the sharpness at the tips of your teeth. the blown-out windows of skeletal houses. decay. jokes that aren’t jokes, shutting up, holding your tongue. prophecies. aching muscles, tired feet. stinging rain. invoking the gods, wondering if the gods are listening, wondering if the gods are dead. white noise. shivers. numbness. the unequivocal feeling of ending.

a midsummer night’s dream: wet soil/dead leaves smell. listening to music on headphones with your eyes closed. wildflowers. the distant sparkle of lightning bugs. a pill somebody slipped you. fear that turns to excitement, excitement that turns to frenzy. mossy tree trunks. a pair of yellow eyes in the darkness. night swimming. moonlight through the leaves. a bass beat in your chest. a butterfly landing on your nose. a kiss from a stranger. a dark hollow in an old tree. glow-in-the-dark paint. drinking on an empty stomach. a twig breaking behind you. spinning until you’re dizzy. finding glitter on your body and not remembering where it came from. an overgrown path through the woods. cool dew on your skin. a dream that fades with waking. moths drawn to the light. giving yourself over, completely. afterglow. the long, loving, velvety night.

  • Yoongi: *Sees Jimin practicing some choreo*
  • Yoongi's brain: You should probably tell him to rest a little. He has been working so hard lately, just encourage him a little.
  • Yoongi: *Opens practice room door*
  • Yoongi's brain: Perfect. Now just praise him. Maybe a compliment on his efforts. You are his hyung, anything would help.
  • Yoongi: *Silently hands Jimin a water bottle*
  • Jimin: Thanks?
  • Yoongi: *Turns and walks out without a word*
  • Yoongi's brain: Nailed it.

being able to say “fuck big pharma” and avoid taking prescription medications in lieu of alternative medicine is a privilege

being mentally or physically healthy enough to boycott pharmaceuticals is a huge fucking privilege so please get off your high horse when shaming chronically ill, mentally ill, and disabled people for the medications they need to take in order to function

let’s criticize the institution rather than the people who need to take part in it in order to survive

Coco international voice acting appreciation post

A round of applause for all the international voices for Miguel, Hector and the rest of the cast of Coco for learning the pronunciation of spanish words and singing them effortlessly, y’all are champions.

anonymous asked:

Yurio learned how to put printed letters on his nails thru a youtube video. He came to the rink the next day with the word "VICTOR" on his nails, one letter on each nail on his right hand and showed it off to him. Victor was like "That's really sweet and cool Yurio! but my name has six letters, where's the 'R' at the end?" then Yurio brings out his left hand and slowly lifts his middle finger with the 'R' on his nail. Victor looked so offended while Yuuri was laughing hysterically behind him lol

that’s savage af lmao

Simple Witch Tips

Greetings! 🌈 so these are things that I do that help me out, I hope they can help you!

- Take permanent mark and mark your perfumes with signs to enchant each one, I.e. beauty, lust, love, luck, protection, ect.

- Use essential oils/paints/sun or moon water/ water and salt mixture to mark sigils on door frames to bring something or use for protection.

- Enchanting make up I.e. using eye shadow colors for certain charms (green for prosperity, brown for grounding, blue for peace, purple for psychic help), using bronzer to help connect with the sun’s energy, lipsticks for increasing the power of your words.

- As above using nail polish and decals to boost energies from your finger tips. A great way to add sigils to yourself without it being too noticeable.

- Keeping good fortunes from fortune cookies - adding them to spells or using the numbers in chants to make the fortune come true.

- Using air freshener sprays as a way to cleanse your carpet, bed sheets and pillows, furniture, ect. To cleanse or charge the energy attached.

- Color book pages charged with colors of your choice and intent to bring happiness or peace of mind when hung up (I tape mine to my bedroom windows so when I wake up I am charged with happiness)

- Instead of inscribing sigils or symbols I enchant stickers with power. I use bumper stickers to protect my car (along with air fresheners), I put my stickers on binders for school.

These are just some things I do that help me, I hope these tips help all of you as well!