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myquietrage:

not only are the pictures flawless,

but the vinyl selection.

erraticenigma:

lunaghoststar:

61 photos of the December 21st 2010 Lunar eclipse, taken in 2 minutes intervals. [source/single image]

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braidedkinks:

IF YOU LOOK IN THE DICTIONARY UNDER CLASSY & SEXY …THIS IS THE ONLY THING THAT SHOULD SHOW UP… SADE!!!!!

365jaseminedenise:

Project 365 | Day 126: The road to Renewal has a few speed bumps.
After the robbery, I’d been pretty emotionally steady… Or so I thought. I didn’t account for the days I spent not eating, or the constant fight with myself to conjure up the strength just to look in the mirror. Something about the lack of control over the situation  had made me feel like I didn’t care about life. Feeling like you can’t control your own fate is a scary realization whether or not you realize it’s true right away or not. 
So. I started making mistakes. Big ones. Dying my hair 4 times in two days, running dead into traffic and not caring about being hit, not eating a real meal for days, and the top… Drinking on an dangerously empty stomach. Something in me snapped, believing that I wasn’t fine anymore. No longer able to pretend, I plummeted. I didn’t even notice when I stopped eating, but the second I was offered a shot, I shrugged. Why not? I’ll tell you why not. I NEVER drink on an empty stomach. Ask anyone who drinks with me? That’s a no-no. But I did. & I made an ass out of myself. Puking all over myself, becoming deadweight, and puking on the busiest street of the south side of Chicago at 10 in the morning.
The puking didn’t stop. All day. I finally got my head out of the toilet about an hour ago. And, believe me you it was gruesome. Dryheaving, lying on the floor, pitiful. And at that moment, I felt like I was looking down at myself… 
Who have I become? Why was I so content with not being right here anymore. This is not who I am. Metaphorical Me dragged Pitiful Me into bed, and forced Pitiful Me to eat a full meal. Forced me to turn over when I purged it all, and made me eat again. And again, until I stopped puking and started breathing.
The sad part about it was that it was not the liquor that was the problem. Hell, if anything (This is going to sound hella alcoholic) but the liquor was the wakeup call. How long would it had been not noticing the abuse and the strain I was putting my body through? What happened to renewal? Had these two boys stolen more than just my material possessions.
Today was a wake up call. I realized it as I was washing puke out of my hair. I’m not fine, and that’s okay. Because it means I can start working on being fine. People don’t bounce back this fast from something that made you feel like you lost control of everything. It’s still there. That control, that hard work, that Metaphorical Me who refused to let Pitiful Me wallow at the bottom. I know I’m not meant to be this person, but today was harder than ever. This week has been harder than ever… 
Tragedy is not meant to change you, but remind you of the beauty in what you have.

365jaseminedenise:

Project 365 | Day 126: The road to Renewal has a few speed bumps.

After the robbery, I’d been pretty emotionally steady… Or so I thought. I didn’t account for the days I spent not eating, or the constant fight with myself to conjure up the strength just to look in the mirror. Something about the lack of control over the situation  had made me feel like I didn’t care about life. Feeling like you can’t control your own fate is a scary realization whether or not you realize it’s true right away or not. 

So. I started making mistakes. Big ones. Dying my hair 4 times in two days, running dead into traffic and not caring about being hit, not eating a real meal for days, and the top… Drinking on an dangerously empty stomach. Something in me snapped, believing that I wasn’t fine anymore. No longer able to pretend, I plummeted. I didn’t even notice when I stopped eating, but the second I was offered a shot, I shrugged. Why not? I’ll tell you why not. I NEVER drink on an empty stomach. Ask anyone who drinks with me? That’s a no-no. But I did. & I made an ass out of myself. Puking all over myself, becoming deadweight, and puking on the busiest street of the south side of Chicago at 10 in the morning.

The puking didn’t stop. All day. I finally got my head out of the toilet about an hour ago. And, believe me you it was gruesome. Dryheaving, lying on the floor, pitiful. And at that moment, I felt like I was looking down at myself… 

Who have I become? Why was I so content with not being right here anymore. This is not who I am. Metaphorical Me dragged Pitiful Me into bed, and forced Pitiful Me to eat a full meal. Forced me to turn over when I purged it all, and made me eat again. And again, until I stopped puking and started breathing.

The sad part about it was that it was not the liquor that was the problem. Hell, if anything (This is going to sound hella alcoholic) but the liquor was the wakeup call. How long would it had been not noticing the abuse and the strain I was putting my body through? What happened to renewal? Had these two boys stolen more than just my material possessions.

Today was a wake up call. I realized it as I was washing puke out of my hair. I’m not fine, and that’s okay. Because it means I can start working on being fine. People don’t bounce back this fast from something that made you feel like you lost control of everything. It’s still there. That control, that hard work, that Metaphorical Me who refused to let Pitiful Me wallow at the bottom. I know I’m not meant to be this person, but today was harder than ever. This week has been harder than ever… 

Tragedy is not meant to change you, but remind you of the beauty in what you have.