guillotense

so I can see it all again someday

???Next pageArchive

an introduction.

Let’s see…. once upon a time a girl was admitted to a psychiatric hospital, stuffed full of pills and given the diagnoses of Bipolar, rapid cycling. It only took a night for the prescription of heavy anti-psychotics and just a week for the diagnosis. Is that natural?

Fast forward—save all the gory details—a decade later, here she sits surrounded in the biweekly load of laundry and scattered dishes, empty bottles of gatorade and those craft projects in progress from years ago. 

Those pills gave me nothing but a seizure disorder and a series of doctors sponsored to stuff me full of whatever “science” has made for market in swallow form. In the years of trying to become pain-free sane, I lost all connection to my friends and family. All connection to external reality.

In trying to rectify the situation, all the money that went into using me as a lab rat was tripled and thrown my way to reawaken the light I did once show. Too late? God knows.

I felt it after that last seizure. I felt and saw the light and darkness within and surrounding me. Caused by me. Yet here I am again. Sitting on my couch wondering… where I might belong. Where the fuck… how the fuck do I keep going wrong. 

For the millionth time, I’m sorry. Just fucking forgive me or kill me. Purge a story isn’t working for me…

I welcome the comfort of strangers. Or if you’re miserable, tell me, how might I help you?

sleep-down-with-davy-jones:

A dream

(Source: algoll, via ectoskeletal)

semiteen:

pouringkerosene:

stretchedlobes:

fullwormmoon:

timeofdaffodils:

I’m never throwing a cigarette butt on the ground again. Holy shit.

YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE BEEN THROWING YOUR CIGARETTES ON THE GROUND ANYWAYS

omfg poor baby

I’m so glad this post exists. I took ecology in high school and apparently a lot of animals are attracted to the smell of cigarettes and they eat them whenever they can find them. Sometimes they’ll even wander onto roads at night if they smell one and they’ll get hit by cars doing so. And they can’t digest them. The cigarettes just sit in their stomachs until they run out of space and then they starve because they always feel full. I don’t understand why people can’t just put their cigarettes out and then toss them in the trash bin or keep them in an ashtray in their cars until they get home. Is it really that hard?

this makes me so sad
peregrin-fool-of-a-took:

Well looks I’ve found what John Green uses to write metaphors with.

(Source: yahoneydip, via sexewal)

sandrock:

bromogeekmusings:

radimus-co-uk:

enochliew:

Pocket Printer by Zuta Labs

Not only a portable design, but able to print on any size page.

it finally feels like 2014

Every once in a while there’s an invention you never knew you always needed.

THIS IS A KICKSTARTER!

And it needs funding!

Here’s a link to the page.

(via sexewal)