“To all the girls whose thighs touch, with stretchmarks laid like gold across their backside, with bellies too full for any inadequate hands, thank Goddess for your abundance.”—Kim Katrin Crosby (via becauseimafuckinglady)
“I’m still depressed, but how depressed I am varies, which is good. Much of the time, it’s a comfortable numbness that just makes things feel muted. Other times, I’m standing in the shower or something and I can feel the nothingness hurtling toward me at eight thousand miles per hour and there’s nothing I can really do aside from let it happen and wait until it goes away again.”—Allie Brosh, Hyperbole and a Half (via safeinyour-skin)
I’m cold. You’re cold. We’re all cold. The word “cold” is freezing. But it’s Spring and this is ri-damb-diculous. Where is security??? Winter needs to be escorted out since it doesn’t want to leave on its own free will. This is why I am here with this sternly-worded letter. I am advocating for warmth.
I am tired. I have no more fight left in me. My spirit is weak and my UGG boots are spoiled. I DON TIRE O! All I have to give you is my dignity but I think you took that in January when I had to put on 3 pairs of pants, 4 pairs of socks, 2 sweaters, 2 hats, 3 gloves and one giant NorthFace coat to be remotely warm. I have nothing left, Winter and like TLC said, I ain’t too proud to beg. Please go.