(Source: crestfall3n, via paperskinneddoll)
(Source: , via fragileminded)
(Source: bella-lotta, via scalesareforfishies)
(via fallbackintomyarms)
(Source: f-l-u-0-r-3-s-c-3-n-t, via paperskinneddoll)
I wanted to kill the me underneath. That fact haunted my days and nights. When you realize you hate yourself so much, when you realize that you cannot stand who you are, and this deep spite has been the motivation behind your behavior for many years, your brain can’t quite deal with it. It will try very hard to avoid that realization; it will try, in a last-ditch effort to keep your remaining parts alive, to remake the rest of you. This is, I believe, different from the suicidal wish of those who are in so much pain that death feels like relief, different from the suicide I would later attempt, trying to escape that pain. This is a wish to murder yourself; the connotation of kill is too mild. This is a belief that you deserve slow torture, violent death.
—Marya Hornbacher, Wasted (via air-smoke-and-bruisingbones)
(via missmairaisabel)
(Source: ballerinegrasse, via paperskinneddoll)
(via paperskinneddoll)
There are certain emotions in your body that not even your best friend can sympathize with, but you will find the right film or the right book, and it will understand you.
—Björk (via deers-heart)
(Source: paxetlux, via bullshitartist)
(Source: bodiesarecages, via bullshitartist)
(Source: jamjars, via bullshitartist)
(via skeletales)
