im pretty sure im ready for college

friendly reminder that my aplit teacher once told me she had to “freshen up” then actually went to the bathroom with a small make-up bag

so i had intended to stay after school and work on a chart for APLit with my teacher

instead we discussed it for about 15 min, then talked about life for a half hour

seeing grand budapest hotel next week. 

nothing else matters.

i just wish i could make the people i care about happy all the time

fun fact: I have always wanted to be a lion

my aplit teacher is going to kick me in the face when she realizes I never turned in one of the homework assignments

tardisbluecrayon:

lol i’m 16 and i’ve never been kissed

And now I’m turning 18 and still haven’t been kissed

I enjoy performing because it’s a way to express myself without using my own voice. My cello is a medium for my own thoughts and feelings, it helps me say things that I can’t with my own voice. Because it’s already enough to hear my thoughts, I don’t want to hear them out in the open air, too. 

http://shutyourtatertot.tumblr.com/post/81539396829 →

My friend did some slam poetry today, and her performance/poem won. Take a moment to read it if you have the time, it’s on bullying.

shutyourtatertot:

The first time I was bullied I was in elementary school

"freak,"

"weirdo,"

"loser,"

they would call me

So I ran to the teacher, tears burning my eyes

She told me to get over it

I never told my parents what happened


Then came middle school, it was like a small town

Full of pre pubescent vicious parasites

"bitch,"

"slut,"

"whore,"

They would call me

So I ran in my room, tears burning my eyes

And tried to swing from my ceiling fan

I never told my parents what happened


By the time the middle school was coming to an end

The hallway walls were breathing,

And my inside walls were screaming

I wanted to rip myself apart from this Axe Body Spray hell

“omg tbh fml”


High school was different, an entire new world

I tried to keep my nose up, keep them out

But I was just smelling for smoke

So I can follow the trail back to the burning house and save the boy who lost everything

But I was really finding the boy who lit the fire

and tried changing him


But nothing changed except my weight

To be “suitable” for “classmates”

And slide my fingers down my throat

I blamed it on an

“itch”


But when this arsonist called me “babe” and told me i was “perfect”

I didnt know that he had another walk in “closet” to put his “unmentionables” in

I was just another spare room in his cheap flammable motel

So I built my walls high and locked my door

Kept everything in and nothing explored

But fireproofing myself was the hardest part

“How to rip you out of my veins” wasnt on WikiHow


But the bathroom walls were not silent

My name smeared with lipstick calling me a

“senior banger,”

“12th grade fucker,”

“slut,”


It felt like I was kicked in the stomach and had the wind knocked out of me

But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.

And once I realized that band-aids and poetry cant fix this type of hurt,

And wonder woman wasnt coming

I had to wear the cape all by myself

And no matter how far I stretched my fingers I could not catch all the pain I wanted to heal


All the while he was gaining high fives

All we did was kiss

All I felt was worthless

All he did was kiss


So I gained a new alias

Put all that in the past

Started caring more about books than smoke

The only person that could love me truly was me

And I stopped living along the code of accusations of “not good enough” “never good enough”


I was finally happy


High school is full of big boys and girls just being mean

“teachers pet,”

“queer,”

“lesbian,”

So I walked home, tears no where to be found

and told myself to get over it

I never told my parents what happened

just some of my thoughts on my personal religious experiences

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