Why Is Sharing Clothes So Intimate Like.. Bro…. Are You Cold… Here…. Borrow My Sweatshirt… It

𝙈𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮:

dumb jokes

the same music I've been listening to for a decade.

hopeless romantic

exquisite lameness

passionate opinions about useless shit

my trauma, depression, anxiety

my will to die

yikes

indian education system sucks pass it on

A cute Chan asleep

Every man should aspire to be a man written by a women (fictional) and the world will heal

Being desi - tacitly being allowed to watch adult scenes in movies because your family somehow "knows" that you "know" despite never "having the talk" with you.

Being depressed is so weird like how am I this bad at being a human?

Aphrodite took the day off.

Battlescars on shoulderblades, crimson marks in willowy shapes. Chapped lips, naked eyes. Raw. Naive.

The mirror evades her calls, face hidden in pictures. Never truly seen. Never really found. Myth orates Aphrodite looks like the person the watcher is in love with. The observer's eye shapes her nose, paints her flesh, gives her a body to haunt. Shapeshifter. Fluid. Divine.

But what does she see in the mirror? A face? A smile? A touch? Or a soul?

What do you see in your mirror?

-Ritika Jyala, What do you see in your mirror?

(here's the visualizer)

What is life if not a series of oh fucks