I Just Want Endless Amounts Of Cute Underwear And Thigh High Socks

DISPAIR is pressing in on my ears.

I am at the bottom of the pool, but there is no cool water.

Only hopelessness.

This hopelessness is ceasing at times, so that I am unable to adapt to the nausea of it.

It strikes me deaf and blind each time.

It lurks at the back of my throat during fleeting moments of happiness, and tastes of bile.

My mostly bright smile malformed, turned down at the very edges.

This hopefully goes unnoticed.

My point is that things are certainly not what they seem.

I may be this, or perhaps even that.

But deep deep inside,

All I am is a neglected dog.

A stray lying in the street.

A filthy fucking mutt, with dirty paws and an unkempt shaggy coat.

You would do well to steer clear, because I am not worth your time.

No, no you're right. Especially 6 through 9. He is so 8.

So I was re-reading the Assassination Classroom manga, and I can't help but notice that some of the things on Hazama's valentines checklist sound a lot like this fruity patootie:

Is it just a coincidence, or am I onto something?

We failed as a society when everyone stopped wearing headphones.

You'll never guess who I found in the wild..

I love them sm

Bro, I’m not joking, we NEED more butch representation in media. Its not enough to have a skinny woman with short hair, we need like, actual butch lesbian content in mass media productions and I don’t know who I have to shake and scream at to get it. Probably 0.01% of queer representation in media are actually butch, and the ones that are are weirdly stereotyped as cops or assholes (somethings butch lesbians have been getting since the dawn of time). Most butches are pretty sweet! That desrves to be reflected

Demand butch rep. Demand good butch rep.

end of january affirmations

im not doing anything wrong and no one is mad at me

there must be a place for me in this world because here i am

my art doesnt suck

instagram is nothing to me

thank you for the meal.

Fifteen — you are wild fire red and it burns right through me sets my lungs ablaze and makes me want to fly closer to the sun say Chuuya, become my wings? Sixteen — you are wild fire red and it makes my heart race like a deer being dragged through the woods open jugular and all oh, how painful and pathetic i just want you to look at me. Seventeen — you are wild fire red but the grief in your eyes colours me blue funny how we trade wounds in place of kisses i wish you would smile more, Chuuya you look best when boastful and burning give me all your sorrows. Eighteen — you are wild fire red and i am sorry.

— letters unsent, dazai osamu through the years