Story of my fucking empty life. I don’t know what to do for myself. I don’t know, I’m exhausted to be confused, ashamed, scared and sad all the time.
(Source: parasara, via summerselestejulia-deactivated2)
Just another night, thinking that I should have died when I was that new born with a septicemia. I wouldn’t be a waste of time, a waste of space, that shitty daughter, friend, sister. Fuck, I don’t want to see my psychiatrist anymore, it’s useless, I feel worse than ever.
I am such a fucking idiot and it’s all my fault.
Scared. Helpless. Tired.
I would like to cry, but I still cannot. Where the fuck are my tears ?
Grumpy Cat strikes again !
I should stop going on 9gag…
One of the most beautiful french song I ever listened to.
Here is the translation : “Avec le temps” - “With the time”, by Léo Ferré.
With the time
with the time everything is going away
we forget the face,and we forget the voice
the heart when its beating ,this is not the pain to go
to search far…….
with the time
with the time everything is going away
the other one that we have loved,that we`ve searched in the rain
the other one that we recognized on the corner with just one look
between the words, between the lines and under the make-up
with a made-up pledge/oath the night is going away
with the time everything disappears
with the time
with the time everything is going away
even the most nice/miraculous/cool memories like this with the pumpkin(I think that they mean this one which Cinderella uses)
in the gallery I fumble in the ray of the death
every saturday evening when the tenderness is leaving me/going away
with the time
with the time everything is going away
the other one for who we cried just to cause our-selves a head-ache,for nothing
the other one to who we were giving the wind,the jewelries
for him,for the one that we sold our soul just for some cents
for this one for who we would suffer like a dog
with the time everything is leaving
with the time
with the time everything is going away
we forget the passion and the voice too
the voice which was saying you quietly the words of the poorest people
dont comeback too late,be careful not to get cold
with the time
with the time everything is going away
and we feel white like a worn out(very tired) horse
and we feel like droppped in a hazard game…(its not the best translation)
and we feel lonely but maybe calm
and we feel lied/cheated for the lost ages - so its true
with the time we don’t love any more.
(via desolate-destruction)
(via cellestical)
This.
not giving a fuck about anyone anymore b/c obviously no one gives a fuck about me.
(via cellestical)
