whencartoonsruletheworld:

chainerstorment:

kingloptr:

chazzaroo47:

novellaqueen:

do older generations not get fatalistic humor?? like the other day my friend’s parents were hanging around and we were joking and i was like “well no matter what i can always fling myself off the nearest cliff” and they didn’t laugh then later the mom pulled me aside and was like “maybe you should get some help, sweetie” like stfu?? help? in this economy? i don’t think so, debra

I honestly don’t think they get it as a coping mechanism, they think it’s a cry for help rather than actually helping.

i’d even say it’s past just coping and is also now a category of Stuff Kids Got Used To When No One Was Looking; not everyone using that humor is even covering up something bigger, we just stopped thinking fatalistic = taboo/unspeakable somewhere along the line, and most parents don’t seem to know why or how ~

My boss opened a door and missed me by inches, he said “whoops, almost killed you there!” My result of “Oh, if only.” Led to an awkward end of shift debrief.

This generation shares the same humor as the goddamn Addams Family and the previous generation is the White Sixties Family™ that lives next door and runs away screaming at the end of the episode

inner:

Dear person reading this, 

      You deserve a life full of happiness and positivity. So don’t let others get to you and believe in yourself.

bpdtransprince:

I don’t think anyone has ever loved me as much as I love them

only-1-a:

catphistopheles:

writing-prompt-s:

Years ago, you promised your firstborn to a witch. Since then, despite your best efforts, you can’t seem to get laid. The witch is starting to get pretty pissed.

Y’all get together to discuss your options and she starts coaching you on how to get men because she doesn’t want to waste more magic on you without promise of payment. The more time you guys spend together the more you realize you have a bit of a crush on her. Soon you’re sabotaging your dates on purpose to see her again. 

Long story short you fall in love and get married and do the sperm donor thing AND YOUR FIRSTBORN IS HERS BY DEFAULT and you live happily ever after. The end.

Baby cries in the middle of the night

Witch: Ughhhhh. It’s your turn.

You: You bought it. You handle it.

byesuggestion:

im a terrible person who deserves nothing good

scrungo:

Ominous statement generator

month born in
jan - the owls
feb - the stars
march - your enemies 
april - the obelisks 
may - the crystals
june - the secrets
july - the crows
aug - your teeth
sep - the curses
oct - the eyes
nov - the trees
dec - the caves

eye color
brown - do not know you
green - are not what they seem
hazel - cannot reach you
blue - are gone when you look away
grey - plot revenge
other - are not lost but waiting

inkskinned:

on a scale of one to ten how sad are you.

you almost say seven but the answer floats in your lungs like rising mud. you shift your shoulders. some part of you is already forming an excuse. that it’s not that bad sometimes. one, two, three on a day that the clouds are out. you’re just complaining about stuff. yesterday you laughed past a brick of a four, does that make the brick come down to a two-point-five.  the solid seven panic attack of last tuesday feels somehow like a little thorn, just a regular day full of a gentle three-point-nine earthquake rocking after yesterday’s close-to-an-eight. see but if tomorrow you have a real bad day, it will make today look simple.

and what if. what if tomorrow it’s a big old red eight-point-nine. like one of those days where sirens are going off in every part of you but you’re stuck behind a glass window watching it all burn down. like one of those days that your skin against the air feels foreign. like too much of everything. like sitting-in-the-shower, like can’t-eat, like the tide isn’t just coming in, it came while you were sleeping and now you’ve gotta learn how to swim. like bounce me against a bullet hole kind of day.

you keep numbers like nine and ten way out of reach. those are for the people who really are suffering. you’ve got no excuse. nine and ten are funeral numbers, for real problems, not yours, no. and sometimes you’re fine. and you’re kind of used to it. and it’s not sad, it’s just numb like a television caught on static. numb like i can’t remember if i care about this. numb like nothing works but i can’t be bothered to fix it. that’s not sad that’s every day stuff. everybody feels like this, right? feels like they’ve been shut off. right.  

maybe five. right in the middle. like not gonna shoot myself but i’m not wasting your time. a nonanswer. like could be worse could be better. like i need help but i don’t want you to worry even though i need someone to worry about me because i can’t worry about myself. maybe five. but what if five is too small. what if five is too big. what if -

“on a scale of one to ten,” he repeats into your silence, and then pauses. “and please be honest about this.”

Relatable bpd things™

bxyderline:

- ’’Is this attention seeking? Is this manipulative? Is this romanticizing?’’
- Feeling like u give 100% and get 3% back. With everyone. Always.
- Over analyzing insignificant things like glances, stares, gestures, tone of voice, etc.
- Constantly dropping interests and leaving things halfway done.
- Ur entire fucking thought process contradicting itself, being a paradox.
- Staying with abusive friends / partners because who’s gonna give u attention??? Who even are u without them???
- Secretly wishing for bad things to happen to u bc then u have reasons to soak in self-pity and want attention.
- Everyday at the crack of dawn u spin the Wheel of Symptoms™, u never know what’s gonna happen, it’s fucking wild.
- Never being satisfied, always having that underlining emptiness.
- Not being able to tell the difference between sarcasm and ‘’This person seriously fucking hates me.’’
- Having a good day and immediately panicking that u’ve been faking it all.
- Splitting. Just splitting.
- Always lowkey being ready for death.