learning to love myself a little more every day

jane // she/they // queer

veritasnvirtue:

on feb 3 i decided to finally to commit to recovering from all my shitty mental illnesses let’s do this bitch this blog is now a vision board

i barely use this blog anymore, but it’s been about two and a half years since i made this post. i don’t stay up until the sun rises wondering if the world will feel this empty forever now. i put love into myself and my body and the world around me and this little life is more beautiful than it’s ever felt. i’m still self conscious enough to feel silly even making this post, but it’s a soft night in late july, i’m about to enter my twenties, and i feel too much love for my seventeen-year-old self not to let her know that it’s going to be alright. we get better.

damazcuz:

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Certain words can change your brain forever and ever so you do have to be very careful about it.

catmask:

im so calm and normal but also if im misunderstood by people in a way i cannot control i will tear apart the fibers of the universe

papayajuan2019:

papayajuan2019:

perpetually rolling down the hill with accumulated love, like a cartoon snowball

every cut and scrape and head hitting a stone is worth it for me. i’m still alive

ritikajyala:

My 13 year old cousin came back from a date with her boyfriend and said, “I can’t wait to grow up and spend sunday afternoons with him.” At first, I wanted to laugh (after all they’re just 13), but I remember being 13 and having the world in my hands. I remember getting excited to talk to someone about my dreams and wishes, and how happy these daydreams and fantasies made me. There’s this innocence you can only have at 13 and the world rises and falls and crashes and burns every year… until you do not think about quiet sunday afternoons.

So I asked her about the date and heard her giggle about bubblegum flavored ice cream, and how much she loves this little life. I think she makes me love it too.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire

ryebreadgf:

I am 24 years old and I feel ancient and I think I need to revamp my skincare routine so I will be easier to love by men who don’t see women as people, but on some Thursdays when nobody is, miraculously, trying to sell me something, not even myself, I manage to forget I am supposed to strive for something and green is just green and light is just light and I am just me and I am not thinking about aging or marriage or children or influencer yoga pants or the world ending in the hands of men who have never stopped, not even once, to look at, out of the sheer heartbreak of it, the beauty of something they cannot own or sell or advertise, and anyway I said I’m not thinking about it so I’m not thinking about it, and I need to tell you that today it rained and then the sun was out and then it rained again and I felt something I haven’t felt since I was seven, and tomorrow I will get angry again but today it is a Thursday and on Thursdays like this I refuse to give the cruelty of the world a chance to reach me, because on Thursdays like this everything green is just green and the summer is creeping in underneath the doorframe, inch by inch

sailermoon:

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Aeschylus, The Oresteia / Anne Carson, H of H Playbook / Hadestown, Road to Hell (Reprise) / John Darnielle, Wolf in White Van / Richard Siken, The Worm King’s Lullaby

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