DinoPrincess333

You know what’s stupid? Depression is stupid. It’s stupid and ridiculous and it hurts and it’s heavy sometimes and brings me down and weighs a ton and it’s like I can’t even get out of bed and it feels heavy on my heart, my head, my everything. But sometimes it’s sharp. Sometimes it stabs me, and I can’t breathe. Sometimes it’s help help help help can’t won’t help it hurts IT HURTS. Sometimes it’s scary and it’s hyperventilation and tears and cracks in armor and vulnerability and I can’t handle it. I can’t handle anything. It’s supposed to get easie

Once in everyone’s existence, there comes a time when life seems so short. This is the moment in which they say your life flashes before your eyes. This is the moment in which you accept the end is near. For me, this is that moment. Heavy breathing, ragged and loud, fills my ears. Sweat pools in the sharp contours of my collarbone, the dips and crevices of my face, and the soft indents of my inner elbows. I blink the stinging tears out of my eyes and shift uncomfortably behind the large, mahogany desk. I raise my head slowly above the edge of the desk and resist the urge to gasp aloud. The figure, facing away from my, admittedly not ver

Glowering was what she did best. She wasn’t a rude or ill-mannered person by any means - she just had a low tolerance for stupid people. There was no shortage of stupid people at her school, so she had taken to giving people a shockingly mean-looking glare for such a pretty girl. It had become a habit, and she had perfected it recently. Whether it be a loud-mouthed girl or a boy who thought he was oh-so-smooth, there were few people who were spared her death-glare. If asked, she would simply say it was a survival tactic in the jungle known as high school. When people told her to tone it down, she would turn on them with her glare. Her f

 “Oh my God. You’re in love with her.” “What? No, I’m not. Don’t be ridiculous.” “You’re definitely in love with her.” “Honestly, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I think I would know if I were in love with my best friend.” “You really don’t think you are?” “Of course not. I would know for sure if I was. Like, I don’t act like I’m in love with her, do I?” “Well, I mean...the classic signs are all there, like putting her first, not being able to focus with her gone, not being able to focus with her aroun

 I didn’t understand what she was talking about and I didn’t care, honestly. I found myself tuning her out more often than not, a habit I had developed quickly. I ignored her words to focus instead on the lilt of her voice and the way her lips moved. I caught myself staring at her mouth, her eyes, her hands moving as she spoke. I was constantly entranced by her face and the sound of her voice - warm, soft, and comforting. Her accent was light but distinct and I found myself enamoured regardless of what she was saying. So, no. I didn’t understand what she was talking about, and no, I didn’t really care. The fact that sh

It was as if she didn’t understand the concept of ‘shut up’. It wasn’t like she didn’t constantly hear it, but she chose to ignore it every time. All she did was keep talking and chatting and singing and buzzing like there was nothing wrong with it - but there was. Couldn’t she see that no one else wanted to talk? Couldn’t she tell nobody was in the mood? It was like any sort of negative social cue was lost on her - either that, or she just didn’t care. It was infuriating and annoying and made people hate her. I didn’t hate her, though. I think it’s been pretty well established that