theatrically-yours replied to your post: I’ve decided I’m changing for the better.
Change how?
Just..my style, I guess. In a way. I’m going to take what I like and put as much of it into me rather than just witness things I like. I guess, in a way, I’m inspired. I just hope it doesn’t die off in a short time like most things do when I’m inspired. I’m not going to CHANGE like in the aspect where I don’t know myself. I’m just going to take action with things I like. At least, everything I can take action about.
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theatrically-yours replied to your post: Can somebody count how many times Team Rocket should have died?
did you start re-watching all the episodes?
Yes, hah. That’s what happens when you’re home all the time.
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Can somebody count how many times Team Rocket should have died?
I ran out of fingers.
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strawberrypiesforbreakfast:
I remember
the night when
you engraved
your promises
on my back
with your finger tips
& watered them
to grow into
a vineyard
wrapped around
my ribs.
Yesterday,
you broke
your promises
to bits & pieces-
traumatizing my
(v)
(e)
(r)
(t)
(e)
(b)
(r)
(a)
(e)
But
your vineyard—-
still continues to breathe;
feeding
my dry lungs
back
to
life.
(You’ll always be a part of me-
growing,
breathing,
stinging.)
(via strawberrypiesforbreakfast)
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One of my favorite pairs of pants ripped the other day.
Not in the butt, thankfully. So, I decided to try to make them into shorts. But, now they’re basically “short-shorts” and look really revealing in a way. But, I still want to keep them! They’re Tripp pants, but not the ones with chains or anything. Just a really unique color I liked and they were regular, skinny jeans. but, it was like a black-raspberry color and I love them! So, I figure I can just wear them around the house or maybe to the beach or something. Shorts cover more than bikini bottoms, so nobody can complain, right? Though, in this day in age someone always has to complain anyways, so it doesn’t really matter what I do, I guess.
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I’ve decided I’m changing for the better.
I’ve never told myself that I would change. I never understood how people could change willingly. But, I’m going to give it a shot. I may fail. I probably will. But, at least I’m going to try.
1 notes
sleep-sweet:
There are two cups.
One is filled with
a potion, and the
other a poison.
Do not pick yet.
The potion’s name The poison goes by
is Richard, and he Alexander, and he
is a young man with has emerald green
dreams and aspir- eyes and jet black
ations. The kind that hair, perfect teeth
get people places, and a jaw so sharply
whether hospital beds defined that it makes
or prison cells or maybe your skin crawl and
to a lonely woman’s your spine- never mind.
apartment. Oh, and Suffice to say he is eat-
there are better places ing you alive with his
for him to be, too. perfect teeth, because
Maybe a construction you gave him your neck,
yard, for no office will you wanted it so badly.
hold his interest Alexander dreams of
long because no one red apples to hide in,
knows what kind of or flesh to sleep in, when
red his cheeks flush he’s out of love. He grins
when he drinks. He and you forget your train
is a man that drinks of thought, even though
alone, he is a poet he is on the other side of
without a pen and the bar. He doesn’t get
a photographer drunk and because of the
without a camera, way dear Alexander blushes,
he is a shame, you’re never quite sober.
and he fell in love This is when you realize that
with Alexander. you’re in love with Alexander
too.
Now pick your poison.
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