the struggle of wanting to message someone but knowing that the person will never message you back.
wear your war paint
whether it’s makeup, a band tshirt, your fandom pins, tattoos, jewelry, your favorite ripped pair of jeans, or something no one else can touch or see like your favorite song repeating like a mantra in your head, the sound of your own heartbeat, or the knowledge that you were brave enough to get out of bed today when everything else inside you said “no”
wear your war paint and kick ass
I’m a hopeless romantic with a dirty mind who has high standards.
ever wonder how different your life would be if that one thing never happened
when ur parents say something really racist/sexist/misogynistic/ableist/queerphobic and you just laugh like “h a ha h aa yeahhh” cuz u don’t wanna start drama but it makes ur skin crawl for the rest of the week