rubyetc:

I found these gifs I made a while back for a site that’s not running anymore, so I thought I’d post them here. It’s a description of psychiatric symptoms and states of mind using a pink box and some other stuff. 

(via ghoulmagic)

Yesterday, I spent 60 dollars on groceries,
took the bus home,
carried both bags with two good arms back to my studio apartment
and cooked myself dinner.
You and I may have different definitions of a good day.
This week, I paid my rent and my credit card bill,
worked 60 hours between my two jobs,
only saw the sun on my cigarette breaks
and slept like a rock.
Flossed in the morning,
locked my door,
and remembered to buy eggs.
My mother is proud of me.
It is not the kind of pride she brags about at the golf course.
She doesn’t combat topics like, ”My daughter got into Yale”
with, “Oh yeah, my daughter remembered to buy eggs”
But she is proud.
See, she remembers what came before this.
The weeks where I forgot how to use my muscles,
how I would stay as silent as a thick fog for weeks.
She thought each phone call from an unknown number was the notice of my suicide.
These were the bad days.
My life was a gift that I wanted to return.
My head was a house of leaking faucets and burnt-out lightbulbs.
Depression, is a good lover.
So attentive; has this innate way of making everything about you.
And it is easy to forget that your bedroom is not the world,
That the dark shadows your pain casts is not mood-lighting.
It is easier to stay in this abusive relationship than fix the problems it has created.
Today, I slept in until 10,
cleaned every dish I own,
fought with the bank,
took care of paperwork.
You and I might have different definitions of adulthood.
I don’t work for salary, I didn’t graduate from college,
but I don’t speak for others anymore,
and I don’t regret anything I can’t genuinely apologize for.
And my mother is proud of me.
I burned down a house of depression,
I painted over murals of greyscale,
and it was hard to rewrite my life into one I wanted to live
But today, I want to live.
I didn’t salivate over sharp knives,
or envy the boy who tossed himself off the Brooklyn bridge.
I just cleaned my bathroom,
did the laundry,
called my brother.
Told him, “it was a good day.
— Kait Rokowski (A Good Day)

"Depression is a good lover"

(via loveandddrevenge)

(via revolutionromancerocknroll)

asker

swegpul asked: y r de pankakes so gud man

dennys:

cuz we mak em wit luv bro

ccutecouples:

everything love

ccutecouples:

everything love

(via kushh-queenn)

omgitsfrizzy:

Omgitsfrizzy.tumblr.com

omgitsfrizzy:

Omgitsfrizzy.tumblr.com

(via kushh-queenn)

bussykage:

2cuuuute:

eligors:

hijabiswag:

friendship game strong

Where are the people crying cultural appropriation though

because its not lol

They’re not making a mockery out of the hijab or wearing it for fun they’re standing up for their friend. I wear the hijab and if my friends did this for me I’d start crying so shut up?

bussykage:

2cuuuute:

eligors:

hijabiswag:

friendship game strong

Where are the people crying cultural appropriation though

because its not lol

They’re not making a mockery out of the hijab or wearing it for fun they’re standing up for their friend. I wear the hijab and if my friends did this for me I’d start crying so shut up?

(via gloriously-spooky-skeletons)