She’s mine. I don’t want anyone else getting the same butterflies I get when she smiles or says my name. I don’t want anyone else making her blush or calling her “babe.” Call me selfish I don’t care. She’s mine.
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Take out a sheet of paper, write a letter to yourself about how you are feeling and how you hate yourself.
Fold it up, and put it at the very end of your favourite book.
In the morning, pick up the book and start reading that book from the very beginning.
By the time you finish the book, read the letter you wrote and realize that if you can love the individual 26 letters over and over again that made up that book, you can love yourself more since you are more than a letter, you are more than that hateful letter you wrote to yourself, you are a human being with your own thoughts, and choices, and paths in life. You are more than that letter you wrote to yourself, because you can remember the happy things in life, the letter can not.
This was probably the best advice you could ever give someone this needs more than 100 notes
Mount Bromo, before & after sunrise; Ogi
this is so beautiful
don’t get it twisted like i respect bugs for being the best they can be in spite of their specific assigned flesh prisons and their ecological significance but they need to stay the fuck away from me