"You can't be a lurker on tumblr." Yes, you absolutely can. I've been quietly reblogging things since 2014 and I haven't interacted with anyone in years.
How many of you would read a romance wattpad Novel of an indian princess and her Pakistani Knight running away together??lmk
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.
why is my entire dash 9/11 jokes did smth happen or
If this pain chooses not to leave me
I hope I end my life
I hope I don't force myself to live through it all with the false hope that I will find peace and love and dreams coming true
I hope I can give myself the privilege of death and not force myself to live for others
Oh my goddd im in my teenage depression phase 😦
Hi
hello there ✨
"Will you just tell me what your fucking problem is? You're acting crazy, you know that, but you think you can still pretend everything is fine? Spit it out!"
"I'm— I'm being haunted."
I've said the forbidden thing. And I'm waiting for the ceiling to fall on top of us or for the ground to swallow me whole, but all i see and feel is the horror on their faces. Why isn't Celia, the Celia whom I murdered not doing a single thing? It is only when i lift my head to see their horrified faces once again that I understand.
I understand to such a degree that I break into maniacal laughter as the world spins around me. Both me and the woman haunting me— we share a common goal now.
I want to We want to torture the people who made me murder her. "Maybe Celia's not haunting me. Maybe I'm posessed by her. For I've never understood a person this much before!"
"You watch your mouth, new prince. Before I—"
"Before you strip me off the 'chosen hero' title? Well to hell with your fucking special play, your uniqueness. Curse you and that royal blood— After all, what kind of chosen hero, What kind of God' s favourite hold's a knife to a young woman's innocent throat? All in the name of 'erasing cursed heritage?' In the name of the cause, you ruined me! You all have forgotten yourselves! Even declared yourself king, at the expense of making me a murderer. At the expense of the love of my life— no, the life of my love!" Celia uses her powers now. No, her presence is stronger. She uses it to shut me up, ofcourse. Frightening, how love is enough to shake the souls of the dead, aswell.
After all, I only confessed my love for her once she was incapable of loving me back.
"Lock him up. Cut him until he swears by the blood."
I pray she will use her powers to intervene, and save me from the torture. I hear no objection as I'm dragged away. What a creative manner to reject me, my celia. I will admire you from hell
"Will you just tell me what your fucking problem is? You're acting crazy, you know that, but you think you can still pretend everything is fine? Spit it out!"
"I'm— I'm being haunted."
I feel as though my mind is barren. Like I can't produce more for my writing. Even the simplest of lines are starting to fascinate me now.
Writing was supposed to be therapeutic...
.. not this.
It's offensive how okay I am after everything I've been through💀
““If you’re struggling and your people are just sitting there watching you struggle, they’re not your people.” Unknown”
—