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ericajune: scream-samantha: loveyourchaos: miraculous: dromadeus: strawberryswisher: brennadaugherty:



I have to reblog this every time I see it.
Stop indirectly telling me to fuck off.

Honestly, it’s getting old. You did the exact same thing and you didn’t see me getting all pissy at you about it. Seriously, just shut up.

I’m quite emo on tumblr.

O_o Just a random thing I noticed.

In the end, everything is always okay.

If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.

Haha…

People tend to talk about me when they think I can’t hear them. I have my headphones in right now, and Alan suddenly says,

“Cassie must have had a bad day. She wouldn’t bite my head off unless she has.”

Then he and my mom have an argument over what’s wrong with me until my mom finally blurts out “It’s because her boyfriend broke up with her.”

I didn’t even know she KNEW that. |:<

Even the best fall down sometimes,
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme,
Out of the doubt that fills your mind,
You finally find,
You and I,
Collide.
Howie Day.
There is a drug that cures it all, blocked by the governmental wall.
We are the scientists inside the lab, just waiting for the call.
The Last Goodnight.
I find it slightly humorous…

How lately, we let people determine we are instead of ourselves. You are your own person, you don’t need the person other people are trying to make you. That person doesn’t exist; they’re fake. A mask. I read a story recently, about an Indian girl. She was sent to an English school and forced to change her name whilst attending that school, for the benefit of the teachers.

The name she had to adopt was Cynthia. She explained Cynthia as a different person than herself. She did not control Cynthia’s actions; she was not Cynthia. Cynthia was a person she was forced to be by someone else.

Don’t allow yourself to become your own Cynthia. It may result in losing who you really are. Don’t put on a front; because it won’t remain so for long. You should be happy with who you were born as, because no one will ever be like you. And that’s the best kind of originality I could imagine.

Even more, I had never meant to love him. One thing I truly knew - knew it in the pit of my stomach, in the center of my bones, knew it from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, knew it deep in my empty chest - was how love gave someone the power to break you.
I’d been broken beyond repair.