Quiet People have the loudest minds.

1. Don’t try to piss quietly. Nobody in a public restroom thinks you’re knitting in your stall. They came to piss, just like you. And if you have to take a dump, do it. Get over your fear of public toilets. It’ll make life a lot easier.

2. Masturbate. Masturbate a lot. Talk about it with your friends. You’ve got the right to make yourself feel good and brag about it just like all the boys with extra large kleenex packages on their desks.

3. If you want the large fries, get the large fries. Hunger and appetite are nothing to be ashamed of, just human. Don’t ever feel guilty for eating in front of others. You need to nourish your body to stay alive. We all do.

4. Laugh as loud as you have to, no matter if you snort or gasp or literally scream.

5. Fart when you have to.

6. Always remember you weren’t born to visually please others. Forget the phrase “what if they think it’s ugly”. If you think it’s lovely, it is lovely. You wanna wear it, wear it!

7. Speak your mind! You can learn to do so without insulting others or shoving your opinion down other people’s throats.

Seven Simple Ways To Free Yourself, from girl to girl (via fawnbabe)

(via thetiger-theowl)

On my bad days, breathing will just have to be enough. Sometimes even on my good days that has to be enough. I am surviving; it is enough.

—Callie // 
(via exoticwild)

(via exoticwild)

Fuck you, your eyes, your smile and your lips. I hate you for slowly letting me go insane. You sat there and watched as I ripped myself to pieces. You don’t care, you never did. So, fuck your entire being.

—The things I should have told you (via young-wanderer)

(via young-wanderer)

Sometimes you are someone’s favourite sweater. They wear you all the time. They wear you around the house, out to dinner, to the movies or even while they sleep. They wear you in front of their friends and their families and in front of strangers, because you are their favourite sweater and they want everyone to know. As it happens, whether on purpose or by accident, one day they hang you in the back of their closet. Before long, other sweaters are placed before you, and you watch them, as they come and go, wondering if you’ll ever be worn again. Soon you become not as accessible. The other sweaters are easily seen and touched and worn. You suddenly become far away. Far away means they forget the colour in your eyes and the way you smell and your voice in the morning. So you hang, collecting dust, and watching other sweaters keep the body you love warm. Maybe one day, you’ll be pulled from the closet, and they’ll remember how they never felt as warm from all the other sweaters, as they did with you. They’ll remember how you promised not to scratch their skin or be stained with lies, and you kept those promises. But as it happens, maybe you were just a sweater, and you were only ever meant to be worn, until they no longer needed you.

—itsonlyyforever (via itsonlyyforever)

(via fueledbyally)

Coming home to someone is many things. It is a literal action, an abstract idea, a physical feeling. It is more than the sound of the key turning in the door and the voice that calls from the porch. It is a choice, a promise, a declaration. It is a return, not as a person to a place, but as oneself to another. It is one individual saying to another: ‘You are the one I choose’.