lovenotinearthyways-lovelikegod said: It is impossible to conquer the mini powdered donut addiction. they’re just toooooo good. Sorry about your knee, im proud of you and i love you! stay strong!
You’re the best tumblr cheerleader ever. <3
I should really call this “Smoking less and less being aggressively negative with myself when I feel like I smoke too much”.
I had a smoke this morning after the gym. I think I pulled my knee. Can you pull a knee? Whatever that muscle that runs down the middle of the back of your knee —whatever that is, it hurts so bad.
I didn’t feel a snap or a pop, but bending it to drive hurt enough that I was shaking smoking that morning smoke.
Now if I could find something to calm myself down/make myself feel better that is not smoking, I might be able to 100% be without.
For now, 1 emergency pack every ~10 days is pretty fucking nice.
I hope anyone and everyone out there struggling with quitting their addictions is having some success. I feel like this is success for me. Next addiction to conquer: mini powdered donuts.
hey space cadet, man
you’ve been floating for a while
"…i’m not coming home"
I am going to get so stoned and play SO MUCH SKYRIM.
I’m already lonely thinking about it cos the last time I was alone was about 6 years after never ever ever.
give high fives to kids
smile at strangers, laugh often
life’s too short for tears.
don’t go out there, man
it’s not natural, that stuff
snow? the fuck is snow?
hootie hoo, fucker
sky rockets in flight, let’s get
blazed, high, stoned, blasted.
I had to have a cigarette today I just had to.
This fucking asshole this guy. In his big F250 with Ford written on the back windshield decided he didn’t want to wait for traffic to clear and made a pretty sharp left turn into my lane of traffic, narrowing missing a goddamned school bus that was heading right for him. I slam on my brakes, school bus slams on its brakes. The driver and I share a slackjaw stare that screams this fucking guy before I slam the gas and take off after him.
he’s going ~6 miles under the speed limit so I’m on his ass in a sec. Slam my horn a bunch, make rude gestures.
when suddenly, blue & red lights behind me. Awww fuck, it’s the fuzz. Back off the guy and calm down, put on my blinker and prepare to be pulled over for all sorts of law breaking shit.
I pull over, cop keeps going, gets on truck’s ass until he pulls over. I pull back on the road and go real slow like to get by. Small town, country road, no current opposing traffic. Roll down my window in time to hear Mr. Copcop say “we had a school bus driver call us about your driving.”
my fuckin nigga. light a cigarette, hands shaking, and continue on to work.
i won’t have anymore i promise.
i just didn’t want to cry in traffic.
all of these crazies
all with wants and needs and wants
come back tomorrow
out of reach, dead space
where are you floating, space man?
dude… how high are you?
so far we’ve made it
i have the supplies… and you
now, ONWARD BITCHES
its just on paper
i don’t know what it is yet
but it’s there. i’m glad.
spinning compass, north
south, east, west; there’s no way, fuck
we’ll wait it out; us
for a moment we were tangled. we felt, very suddenly, like we had been displaced from where we were before. without our permission or consent or knowledge we had been plucked from our cozy little nothing on the face of the planet and suspended above it.
we were abruptly very sure that when we were gone, the world would still turn and the earth wouldn’t be the wiser. we felt small and alone and insignificant
In one sentence is the spark of a story. Ignite.
Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a metaphor, a commentary, or a memory about this sentence. Write something about this sentence.
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“Here we go again.”
I had to cover my mouth with my hand to stifle the noise of my giggles. In the dark, every noise was a clue.
We were listening to them tear through the trees like wild hippos. They didn’t understand quiet. They didn’t understand that your eyes don’t matter at night. It’s all in the ears. They were whisper-yelling back and forth, swinging the beams of their flash lights every which way.
He tapped my shoulder and motioned for me to move forward. I crawled on the balls of my feet and tips of my fingers toward another bush and slipped into it as the flashlight swept by. I looked back just in time to see his feet disappear into the tops of the trees.
I almost choked myself trying to silence the giggles again.
“It’s their shoes, I’m sure of it! And is that his coat?!”
I was flat on the grass under the perfect little canopy of a bush. I was biting my own knuckles hard enough to mark the skin. I swore I heard a snort from the tree.
“They’re serious players, dude. I told you.”
“COME OUT COME OUT!”
“They’re not going to do that.”
“COOOME OUT COOOOME OUT!”
“COME OUT COME O-” The call was cut off by the most high-pitched, girly cry I had ever heard.
With the limber quickness of a jungle cat, he pounced from the trees, shining a flashlight right into our opponent’s face.