"A girl should be 2 things: classy & fabulous!"

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Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
wordsnquotes
I think we live in a world, where we don’t feel ourselves anymore.
Instead we feel numb from all the social media, the technology.
The increasing influence from all over the world is slowly destroying our vibes.
They silence our inner voice and don’t let us hear our true self- cause of all the noise bombed at us, constantly.
Magazines telling us how to dress, how we should look, how to behave and how to lose 10 pounds in 1 week, or what men like about the female gender; slowly we are becoming ashamed of us. We slip into daydreams- which replace the actual living.
We are stuck in our head.
Forgetting how to breath properly.
We tense up.
We feel huge and uncomfortable in our own bodies, not enjoying ourselves anymore.
Suddenly we want to fit in, be part of this sick circus, playing a role- perfectly included into society.
Being different is not cool, won’t get you enough likes, will not satisfy the large mass.
It hurts them like a headache, if you are different-minded.
Because what we don’t understand, we hate.
It’s one of the first impulse chasing through us.
Empathy is something very rare these days- to get behind the actions, to see that everybody has its own struggles, their own drugs they have to juggle another day another struggle (yeah, I had to quote biggie smalls at this point).
We don’t have to understand every single move like- why some people shave, some don’t like it, or wear bras or don’t wear bras, there are people with anxiety who are afraid of crowds, hell even if you are a grown ass man and like your fingernails in the colour black, the list could go on and on.
I don’t have to agree or understand every single choice everybody makes- because it is not my f**king business.
I have my own life to celebrate.
We are all so much more than we show to the outside, our feelings and wishes, deepest fears burn deep inside all of us.
Isn’t it great to know there are millions and millions more people wishing, hoping and dreaming for a better world just like us?
We all bleed the same blood, cry the same hot, salty tears when we are hurt and scared.
We are all craving the love from another human being and want to explore the world like we want in its full beauty.
We are living on this planet, we should cherish this gift of our lives- finding our true self!
Not becoming machines, dressing all the same, thinking the same thoughts- being locked-in in some brainwash full of body shaming, self-hate and fake happiness.
Is it worth to be like everybody else, to get approval for not being who you really want to be?
I know looking yourself in the eye and dealing with the truth; finding your own good vibe is hard.
Its’ really hard, you maybe loose friends, friends who where you everything once; turning out to tie you down, don’t letting you fully grow; even your own family won’t always understand the choices you make. But everybody must experience different things on their path, we need those experiences, the heartbreak, the loneliness all the messy feelings to grow from them. I truly believe this. Everything you are going through will be worth it in the end. There may be crying, a lot of crying to wash out all this self-hate and shame, feeling hopeless and alone even your body feels kind of weird.
Just remember- finding yourself is a journey.
Journeys aren’t always easy, along the way there are storms and rain, wind lashing in your face, tearing you apart. Just to make you grow deeper- to wash away the dirt of your soul, rising from your own ashes like a phoenix.
Or how Florence Welch would sing “It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back- so shake him off”
Source: wnq-writers.com
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I want your Monday morning sleep soaked eyes, dream drenched voice, lazy bones ‘five more minutes please babe.’

I want your Tuesday afternoon stretching break, glasses off, laughter on, ‘just hold me for a while, it’s been a hard day.’

I want your Wednesday evening fingers through you hair, teeth biting nails, neck extended, eye glazing, ‘this paperwork never ends’

I want your Thursday night wine for two, bones unbind, muscles let loose, flats, slacks, ‘just me and you’

I want your finally Friday full soul smile, sun sipping light from the glaciers in your eyes, fingers unfurl, hand extends, ‘come on babe, lets go wild’

I want your weekend, your movie marathon Saturday, reading by the fireplace, making love in the blankets 
I want your Sunday morning orange juice and cereal with blueberries, white sheets, tender skin, hair so friendly it’s standing up waving, ‘let’s not get out of bed today.’

I want your ordinary and your stress, rest, release I want your bad day and that terrible night
I want you drunk in my arms forgetting the place but never my name

I want your lazy and your lonely and your fist full of fight
I want you everyday in every way for the rest of my life.
I want forever as partners, husband and wife.
I want our love to always come first.
I’m yours on bended knees.
Source: wnq-writers.com
disappearndissolve
su-i-cid-e:
“ ionicsky:
“ extrasad:
“ Fuck. It’s ironic how empty I am because
I swear 6 months ago I had the universe inside
of me but I cried the rivers in my bones dry.
The volcanoes in my chest erupted when you told
me you didn’t love me anymore...
extrasad

Fuck. It’s ironic how empty I am because 

I swear 6 months ago I had the universe inside

of me but I cried the rivers in my bones dry.

The volcanoes in my chest erupted when you told

me you didn’t love me anymore and lava flooded

my body and hardened till I stopped sleeping.

I had stars in my lungs but I burned them

all out with the cigarettes I was smoking

to get you the fuck out of my throat. The

flowers growing at the bottoms of my

stomach are dead. Apparently you  

can’t water flowers with vodka.

I had the sky in my veins but it’s

been pretty fucking stormy since I

ripped them open. I had planets 

on the tip of my tongue but

the debris from the shattered 

remains of “us” have been

crashing into them. I was

everything. And then I met

you and we were everything.

Now you’re fucking some

blonde girl who gets

high all the time and

I’m a fucking

mess.

ionicsky

this is my favorite fucking poem ever ever ever

su-i-cid-e

q’d

wnq-writers
He’s in love with the parts of me that make him feel special.
My uncontrollable laugh.
The way I look at him like he’s my favorite world of my universe.
He’s in love with my adventurousness, even when I’m like a trapped bird who rarely sees flight anymore.
My soothing, sleepy voice.
He likes to caress me with his words until he has me in his arms again.
Does he love me?
Yes.
But is he truly in love?