Oregon danks.
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Isn’t it weird that in 20 years some of us could be married, some of us could be famous and some of us could be dead.
women are more likely than men to develop a mental illness but you rarely hear about women going on shooting sprees because men won’t be with us or love us or fuck us, bottom line, if you’re willing to relate mental illness and mass murder while also refusing to relate misogyny to women dying at the hands of men, then bye bye no time for you
I want a relationship where they know of us, but nothing about us.
Marry me. Let’s spend our nights eating cereal on the floor when there is a perfectly fine table behind us.
Marry me. We can go to the movie theatre and sit in the very back row just to make out like kids falling in love for the first time.
Marry me. We’ll paint the rooms of our house and get more paint on us than on the walls.
Marry me. We can hold hands and go to parties that we end up ditching to drink wine out of the bottle in the bathtub together.
Marry me. Slow dance with me in our bedroom with an unmade bed and candles on the nightstand.
i want a relationship where people know of us but nothing about us
honestly…. us girls? us women ?? we always out here . knowin
✨12th house is about things that we repress and then they become a part of our unconsciousness and we aren’t aware of them until we decide to explore the deepest parts of us. The 12th house is like a towel where we throw things we don’t want to deal with but pretending like they don’t exist they still be there affecting us in a strange way ,coming back from time to time like a monster hidden under the carpet . I think it holds a huge baggage that can come in the surface only through deep reflection on your own or through talking with a psychologist. That is why I feel like knowing about 12th house can help a psychologist or anyone to help others realize what’s wrong with them that they don’t understand. Knowing what is hidden in the 12th house is a step towards healing.
🌛💫✨
If you’re from my school and you find my Tumblr, just know this.
This is my blog and my own personal feelings. I don’t care if you don’t like me, you don’t like my posts, or even if you believe that I’m a totally different person on Tumblr, you need to keep everything I post on here between us. I come on Tumblr because it’s my only escape from having to deal with all those hypocrites, judgmental people, and even those backstabbing people. But everything that you read, everything that you see on here stays between us and only us.
I hope we last. I hope we do.
But if we don’t, this is how I want you to remember me:
I want you to remember me curled up, listening to the sound of your heartbeat and tracing maps across your skin. Remember me laughing at your jokes, even the stupid ones. Remember me in hysterics for absolutely no reason and in tears because one time you made me so sad neither of us thought I’d recover. Remember me brave, that time you held my hand and I thought I was going to die; remember me scared and gentle and delicate and breakable - only for you though, only for you.
Remember me happy, and all the ridiculous ways I tried to get your attention. Remember the way I was too stubborn to talk to you and how absolutely insane it drove the both of us. Remember all the firsts and how they were so delightful we went back for seconds and thirds and fourths. Remember the songs you couldn’t stop listening to and the childish dreams you allowed yourself about the future. If it’s any consolation I allowed myself to have them too.
If it comes to it I don’t want you to remember the ending.
Remember the beginning. Remember the first time you knew.
