Sorry for so much of my face! Trying to get used the bare look and get comfortable with others seeing it. I get this weird, panicked anxiety that people are going to see me and be like, “Wow, it’s obvious why she wore so much makeup”. I care way too much about what other people think, and that shit needs to stop. I want to be that badass little girl I used to be with band-aids on her knees and dirt on her chin who would dance if she felt like it, no matter where she was, who spoke her mind and didn’t doubt herself, who was what she was and thought that was pretty awesome. One day.
15 years ago I ran down these same streets in this same cold. When I was little I used to smile without shame, without embarrassment, without anxiety, without an apology ready.
Watching now, thanks Netflix.
BAD DAY BAD DAY BAD DAY BAD DAY!
LIKE MY MOTHERFUCKING HOGWARTS LETTER, GODDAMMIT.
(via thelovelybones)
I seriously watched this all the time when I was younger.
I FUCKING SING THE THEME SONG TO THIS SHIT ALL THE TIME AND NO ONE FUCKING GETS ME
MY NAME IS ANGELA HEY HELLOOOOOOO, WELCOME TO MY VERY OWN SHOWWWWWWWW
sleepdeprivation-:mansonlamps:
Series taken by automatic camera showing effect of 35th atomic bomb test on house built 1 mile from point of detonation, over period of 2.3 seconds until total demolition: 1-7/8th seconds on Yucca Flats.
All I wonder is how the camera survived.
I hate this. I have these nightmares off a bomb being dropped near me and in slow motion just seeing my body disintegrate in front of me, my skin and bones just turned to ash or dust. The house reminds me of a face with all the skin being ripped off to show the muscle and skull underneath, all bloody and wet and alien looking.
I have anxiety attacks when planes fly overhead, because in cartoons when I was little that was the same noise when something was falling from far up. & it’s hard to tell sometimes if something is moving across the sky, or falling down from it.
