nil desperandum
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My existence on here is merely one of teal pixels expressing the chaos of my mind, spit forth and pieced together the best way my shaky hands have been able to. Take from it what you will.
Oh, and I'm rather lovesick.
writing // "one day" project
advice blog // my paper hearts
Anonymous asked: Can't believe tomorrow will be the last day of mission. What will you miss the most? The least?
I know! Too bittersweet and nostalgic for me to fully comprehend.. Sigh.
Ill miss the people, of course. I adore how accepting everyone is of one another, and how the majority of us aren’t wrapped up in shallowness; unlike most high schoolers, my classmates have worked their asses off the put their future ahead of temporary pleasure, and I’m forever grateful to have been in this environment for the last four years. There are also some really amazing teachers who have shaped my whole perspective on life. The academic pressure can be a bit overwhelming at times—but that’s real life, isn’t it?
I’m going to miss my best friends.. Chandana, Shannon, Meghana, and Angela. These are the only people I truly will want to keep in touch with over the years, the only girls I trust and love. This year was full of a lot of shitty “friends,” but they’ve pulled me through it. Although I was alone and nearly depressed, bordering suicidal for most of the year, at least I had them during the other times. I’m going to miss our school traditions, homecoming week, multicultural week, the mostly drab but still memorable school assemblies.
What I won’t miss? I won’t miss the constant judging when it comes to academics, I won’t miss the pressured environment, the dirty and broken down campus, and I especially won’t miss the “best friends” who betray and leave you without a word. I won’t miss the girl who all but abandoned her best friends for no reason. I don’t understand why she chose loneliness over our unconditional love (because I still do love her for pieces, but I’ve learned to stop caring.. Sadly, there’s a difference.) when we haven’t done anything to her. I guess four years of friendship mean nothing to some people. I’m going to stop before I grow bitter…
Overall, my experience here has been a positive one. i don’t understand why most people can only complain about this place, when I know for a fact that their time here has been full of good people and endless opportunities. It irks me to know how ungrateful some people can be, and that they’re only able to see the negativity and ugliness in their surroundings and friends.. but oh well. Perhaps I don’t know the whole story. Anyway, I hope your memories of Mission will be full of unicorn and butterflies :)
Making love was never about you and me in a bed. We made love whenever we held hands.
(via qn-milli)
Anonymous asked: Who is the person your talking about in the last post?
Just a girl from years ago. She’s history.
Letter to an ex(best friend)
You loved me before I even knew what “being me” meant, and our days with each other melted into giggles over the exhausting silliness of our inside jokes and whispered secrets that, to this day, have never left our tongues. We turned each others’ minds inside out for the true definition of love—in every form in exists, in the lingering taste it leaves behind, in the bittersweet snapshots that remained. You taught me what it meant to love a boy, to truly love him with every fiber of the organ that drives us to breathe and dance and cry each day. You showed me the meaning behind those four words, and then, in an earth-shattering second, you ripped it away from me. You showed me how to hurt—how to really feel pain, grief, the kind that roars inside the soul and strips you of everything you’ve ever known or wanted. And for that, I could never thank you enough.
I’m the luckiest girl to have someone as sweet and kind and patient as him,
The end.
Anonymous asked: Vent for a vent in return?
I don’t know why I let certain people treat me this way. I don’t know why I spend years allowing myself to be thrown away repeatedly like a piece of trash, like I’m nothing. I wonder why I allow my existence to become disposable to douchebags. I wonder why I feel empty some days, and others, I keep bleeding and crying. I wonder why some days are filled with the dead silence, the silence that swims inside of me and steals my voice. I wonder how I became so ugly inside, so bitter and full of hatred towards myself and others. I wonder how I allowed myself to break my own promise of never becoming that girl—no, never that girl. I wonder how I became so selfish and insecure and little-minded, truly a waste of space at times, offering no contributions to this world. I wonder how I can help others and love them, when I can’t even help or love myself. I want to love everyone unconditionally, I want to take away their pain, I truly do…
Thank you. Now, it’s your turn.
Do you remember the shaking moment when you feel like your world has just shattered, and your attempts to piece together the jagged fragments has only resulted in bloody feet and scarlet fingertips? You tried to fool yourself into thinking they were perfect little jigsaw pieces that were broken apart only to be put back together again. You lied to yourself, and you knew it. And that, darling, is the worst kind of deception there is.
Anonymous asked: HI just stopping by I like your thoughts~
‘Whoever you are, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.’ Thank you.
Anonymous asked: 'lo, milady. You are quite the zaftig, callipygian lass.
What the hell.. Are you really talking about tits and ass in some odd, piratey/medieval language? I don’t even know what to say. I get the strangest anon asks..
Anonymous asked: Feel better, Ivy.
Thank you, thank you. I already do, partly because I know a stranger out there cared for just a second to leave this message.
I’m a broken, broken girl. I lost a part of myself that day, and when I tried to seek it, I was led into the pitch darkness. I screamed, I cried, but there was no way out. All I felt was the permeating chill of loneliness seeping into my bleeding bones, and all around me was the black and the greyed static and—and—
I lost myself, that day. That’s all I can remember.
It’d be so much easier to just give up. End it all. Not exist.
Anonymous asked: was that about your boyfriend? :/
Of course not! :) 13 months and still going strong. All of my angsty, sad, whiny posts are about friends, and only that. Before him, I was never too romantically interested in males, and had nothing of that sort to write about. In fact, my first (and only) ever true heartbreak was about my best friend.
Before TJ, worrying about guys was my last priority. And now, he makes sure I have nothing to be upset about.
Anonymous asked: Who was that post about??
I don’t know. I don’t even remember. A stranger, I think. He’s a stranger to me now.
