Elyeng Bipolar

Yvez Gail :) Babae po ako HAHAHA. 17 | Caloocan City, PH | BS Psychology Student sa OLFU | 9'2 ang Height, 9'2 sa paglaki huehue :( | * Too lazy to add another info here* | Talk to me on my ask or even FM, i will respond | I Also Follow back | Half Princess Half Baby | Jeremiah 29:11 ♡ "


Who I Follow

theambears:

I’ve been working on this on and off for a while now, but I thought it needed saying. 

Want more body positivity help? Check out this masterpost of male body positivity blogs. :)

(via prinsesangkakaibabe)

Inaano ko ba kayo? HAHAHA . Kulet niyo ha. Blooming bloomingin niyo mukha niyo. Sabeng di ako inlove e. Porket naghikaw, nag iba ng aura?
Porket humaba buhok gumanda na? Porket nagiba ng shade ng lipstick, at nag foundation konte, nagiging pretty?
Porket nag ayos ng sarili, inlove na? Pagsasapakin ko kayo e. HAHA wala nga akong makakainlaban e tapos gaganyan ganyan kayo. Tse. Buti pa nga kayo naiisip na inlove ako e ako nga WALA EH. Haha sarap nyong sakalin mwa :*

My brother killed himself
on the twenty-eighth Thursday of last year
and I missed four days of work
and my mom wanted to know ‘Why’.
My brother
he was always a fan of beauty
but what he did
was not beautiful at all.

And last week I got the news
that one of my good friends from high school
had overdosed
(again)
except this time
she’d gone too far
and now she was gone.
And I had a hard time falling asleep at night
and her mother
hugged me tight
and thanked me for coming to the service
but I did not
want to be there at all.
This is not
beautiful.

The girl down the street
would’ve turned 21 last year
and I can scarcely imagine
the wild times she would’ve
(should’ve)
had.
But she is buried six feet deep
after falling nearly 300
and she did not leave a note.
This is not
beautiful.

My freshman year of college
and my roommate was beautiful
and how I wanted to be just like her.
But she wore herself down
till she was
almost invisible
and if you blinked
you had to go and find her all over again.
So now her parents are no longer supporting her college tuition
but are paying her hospital bills
watching their daughter crumble.
This is not
beautiful.

So y’all can take your narcissistic
romanticizing
and glamorizing
of self harm and eating disorders and committing suicide
and shove them as far up your ass
as you possibly can.
Starvation is not beautiful.
Killing yourself is not beautiful.
Sadness
is not beautiful.
This note I am writing
is not beautiful.

But you
you are beautiful
and it’s about damn time you start believing it.

I kissed a girl with a broken smile. She tasted like vodka and smelled of blood. You would tell her you loved her and you could never tell if she felt the same or despised you for saying it. She smiled at you like she knew something you didn’t, like she was always one step ahead. And oh god, was she. Her replies were always quick and witty as if she already knew what you were going to say. Her nails were always painted black which matched the black eyeliner framing her eyes. Whenever you begged her to stop smoking, she’d look at you with those eyes, those god damn eyes, and kiss you. She never did quit, though. You tried kissing the poison out of her, and all you were left with was rotting lips. She left claw marks on everything she touched, including your heart.
her laughter made the world around you dissolve and that’s how it felt when she left (via restrictedthoughts)

(via daldalerangtinteng)

Maybe right now, you are fifteen and you are holding hands with a boy inside a cinema while you are watching a movie about dances and modern music. You would feel like you haven’t felt so happy before. You would feel like for the first time, you felt like you belong to someone for real.

Maybe right now, you are fifteen and you’ll see the boy who tasted your lips for the first time tucking a strand of hair behind the ears of a girl that is not you. You are stranded on the spot where you are standing while confused if you would like to hurt him or yourself.

Maybe right now, you are fifteen and you are listening to Taylor Swift’s songs as you stare blankly on the screen that displays his changed relationship status in Facebook stating that he has gone from “in a relationship” to “single” and you carefully and painfully held the mouse as you changed yours too. Then, you cried so hard, you can’t even see the screen so clearly anymore.

Maybe right now, you are fifteen and you are lying on your bed as you read that last text message from him asking for his freedom. You read that message again and again even if you have memorized it anyway. You let it stab you endlessly hoping that you would get numb. You didn’t.

Maybe right now, you are fifteen and you felt your whole body tense when you saw him walking along the corridor. You held your head high pretending that you didn’t see him and as he went past through you, you ran straight to the girl’s comfort room, locked yourself inside one of the cubicles and sobbed endlessly until the next bell rang.

Maybe right now, you are fifteen and you could feel the pain that you haven’t felt before. You would keep on thinking that maybe it is the price to pay for letting cupid shot an arrow straight to your heart. You would keep on thinking that nothing else would hurt the way you are hurting right now. You would think that there is no way out of the misery you are in.

Maybe right now, you are fifteen but a year later and you will be sixteen. You’ll be on a concert singing along with the bands and the crowd and for the first time, you’ll get him out of your mind. You’ll be seventeen and you’ll find yourself saying his name without burning your tongue or seeing past his images without flinching. You’ll be eighteen and you’ll meet someone who would swipe him out of your memory. You’ll start writing about someone else and you won’t even flip through the pages of your first heartbreak.

Maybe right now, you are fifteen and your heart is breaking chaotically, you’d think you won’t be better. But soon enough you’ll know that this is just a chapter that would make you write better pages later on.

n.a., a memoir for my fifteen-year old self (and her first heartbreak)

(via daldalerangtinteng)

840px:

life hack: remember to compliment people on qualities other than their looks. remind them of their kindness, thoughtfulness, and intelligence. tell them about how powerful and capable they are.

(via notyetreadyforlove)

I’m still hoping it’s you and me in the end.
10-Word Story #26 (N.A.)

(via uncacti)

hqlines:

♡ Find all good posts here! ♡

(via anonrandombitch)

imyouraugustus:

Nakakamiss rin pala yung mga panahon na palagi kayo magkausap. Yung mga tagpong kahit wala na kayo mapag usapan, hindi pa rin kayo nagsasawa. Nakakamiss yung mga kwento niya at mga joke niyang korni. Nakakamiss yung boses niyang sintunado sa tuwing kinakantahan ka niya bago matulog. Kung minsan hindi mo sinasadya, natutulugan mo siya.

Palagi kayong magkatext umaga hanggang gabi. Minsan nga inaabot pa ng madaling araw. kahit paulit ulit nalang yung pinaguusapan, paulit ulit pa rin yung nararamdaman niyong saya at kilig.

Hanggang sa nagbago ang lahat. Hanggang sa nawala na ang saya at tamis ng pag uusap. Kung dati wala kayo ibang pinoproblema, ngayon puro nalang away ang pinaguusapan niyo. Yung dating Masaya sa tuwing nagkukwentuhan kayo, bigla nalang tumamlay. 

Nakakamiss lang yung mga panahong yun. Hindi naman sa hindi ko naiintindihan na nagsawa siya, na napagod siya, alam ko naman un. Nakakalungkot lang naman isipin, syempre namimiss mo siya. yung kung ano kayo dati.

(via jeuzkopo)