my beautys coming back and i dont know why i cant just like guys - they’re the only ones who ever treated me with respect

thejogging:

Conceited, 2013
sculpture
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thejogging:

Conceited, 2013

sculpture

(via murketing)

bienenkiste:

Ter et Bantine Spring/Summer 2013

bienenkiste:

Ter et Bantine Spring/Summer 2013

(via de-cay-ing)

I have given up drink and I’m trying to quit cigarettes, but you know what - fuck it! When I was a kid I used to have parents look at me and judge me as if I were the bad kid - when infact their spoil t  ‘golden’ children were the most retched of them all.

I have scars because Im nice - they have perfect skin because they ate up the competition. 

I feel angry all of the time - about the loss of my once lovely skin, about the relationship that I have with my mother and the boys who Alix is going to destroy.

I get scared sometimes; for the twins. I truly believe that I would kill for them. I was beaten up by my friends mother when I was seven and, come to think of it, I’d probably beat up a child for them too. 

I’m frurious constantly and thats the way it has to be - in order to protect the childhood of the twins and to keep them happy for as long as possible.

My mothers too concerned with spreading her legs to truly give a shit about them - and she getting jealous of them now that she old and fat, so ill have to keep an eye out on her too. 

I cant trust anyone anymore and I have to resort to violence. It’s the only way I can survive and live independently. 

I think Im moving on; from the fist fights, from the blade fights and the heart-break. Its building up inside my chest and its ready to boil over.

I never should have attended tile hill wood - it was bullshit, all of it. Im grey - my skin is covered in scars and im emotionally fucked.

My mother cried when she first saw my scars and I hate remembering that time - because she had hit me before - so what was the difference between a permanent and a semi-permanent impression. She had given me red marks and bruises, so why not a fucking sliced up arm?

The world is full of child abusers who justify it and you’ve basically got to stay away from the alcohol, sluts and rapists. 

I haven’t had a difficult life - it’s been a fucked-up fairy tale, with lesbian lovers inbetween. 

"I went into the desert to forget about you. But the sand was the color of your hair. The desert sky was the color of your eyes. There was nowhere I could go that wouldn’t be you."

Jeffrey Eugenides  (via vandenio)

isn’t this the story of my fifteenth year alive

(Source: fleurishes, via vandenio)