There Is Nothing More Excruciating Then Giving Up. You Don't Want Good Or Bad. You Just Go On. You're

Moloccan Electus is one of my favourite red parrots 🤌 it's like you read my mind! I love the red against the green✅❤😩

a moluccan eclectus for @hanamal1k !!

Tumblr is my twitter because I don't have to close my eyes every 2 seconds because someone ståbbing another person might show up

Do it like this :)

side profilea are my worst enemy ugh

I never understood people who stay in abusive relationships when they have access to leaving the relationship.

But when my head hit the pillow this night i made sure to not sleep on my right (even though thats my favourite sleeping position) because not sleeping on your back causes Asymmetry. Then I realised Beauty is like the abuser that everyone praises you for having. For being in a relationship with. Beauty is like the ‘Perfect spouse’ that abuses you when no ones watching, the spouse that causes people to say shallow remarks “you’re such a lucky one for having this person” like you’re nothing without them. when really all the spouse does is hurts you where you can hide it and beautifies you where they can be praised for it. what are you without that spouse? What will you do, even if your life is peaceful if you’re not special anymore without your abusive accessory?

What will you do without beauty?

You fill me with so much being that I no longer feel woman nor man around you, the presence realization of you puts me in a trance-like state, away from the concept of reality, logic and nature— rather I am forever a cloud hanging around you, only ever activated when ever I am, once again, struck by the realization of you.

Slipping time is looking down at you. Its favourite incarnation, and it's thinking: has it forgotten us? Has it, forgotten itself?

Time is worried, how the little incarnation with such fascinating drive is no longer moving. You are still as if time is still

I pretend to be ever so reserved and cold. But god; how he only told me it was okay to be human- and now I've allowed his lips to find themselves on my wounds. Goodness; how I find myself to be so easily melted.

💋

Sometimes I wonder if I should delete this Blog when I get famous. It wouldn't be appropriate for a famous author to have a tumblr, right? What do yall think?

Or i could just go anonymous and this could be wll thats left of me <333

“If the full moon loves you, why worry about the stars?”

— Tunisian Proverb

I hate how pretty I look when I cry.

More so, I hate how I love how wonderful my red nose , red cheeks, and slight swollen eyes make me look. All that makeup and I would never achieve this.

It's like my face is mocking me, you bloom here in sadness as you belong here in sadness.