PaperWingedAlice

within-stars:

Valkyrie’s Blade Guild - Aura Kingdom

Members in pictures: DivinexRose (Me), Musamichi, JonFawkes, CosplayGamer, BeatBlox, AkaYuay, Vathana, Ahrina, RavenHunter, AlexandraHime, Azurie

lou-satsuki:

Just me in the night ~

lou-satsuki:

Just me in the night ~

nepja:

I take back every bit of dislike I’ve ever had for her.

nepja:

I take back every bit of dislike I’ve ever had for her.

theyuseifan:

thanks for the concern, serif, but it’s like i always say
SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK

theyuseifan:

thanks for the concern, serif, but it’s like i always say

SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK

xiaracarter:

Finally full custom Magical Girl set! :D
I still need more sparkles

xiaracarter:

Finally full custom Magical Girl set! :D

I still need more sparkles

masou-shoujo:

ok but no

masou-shoujo:

ok but no

cantstop-love:

scvlptures:

depression is when you don’t really care about anything

anxiety is when you care too much about everything

and having both is just like what

Having both is staying in bed because you don’t want to go to school and then panicking because you don’t want to fail. Having both is wanting to go see your friends so you don’t lose them all, then staying home in bed because you don’t want to make the effort. Having both is insanely hard and sucks to deal with.
Yesterday, I spent 60 dollars on groceries,
took the bus home,
carried both bags with two good arms back to my studio apartment
and cooked myself dinner.
You and I may have different definitions of a good day.
This week, I paid my rent and my credit card bill,
worked 60 hours between my two jobs,
only saw the sun on my cigarette breaks
and slept like a rock.
Flossed in the morning,
locked my door,
and remembered to buy eggs.
My mother is proud of me.
It is not the kind of pride she brags about at the golf course.
She doesn’t combat topics like, ”My daughter got into Yale”
with, ”Oh yeah, my daughter remembered to buy eggs”
But she is proud.
See, she remembers what came before this.
The weeks where I forgot how to use my muscles,
how I would stay as silent as a thick fog for weeks.
She thought each phone call from an unknown number was the notice of my suicide.
These were the bad days.
My life was a gift that I wanted to return.
My head was a house of leaking faucets and burnt-out lightbulbs.
Depression, is a good lover.
So attentive; has this innate way of making everything about you.
And it is easy to forget that your bedroom is not the world,
That the dark shadows your pain casts is not mood-lighting.
It is easier to stay in this abusive relationship than fix the problems it has created.
Today, I slept in until 10,
cleaned every dish I own,
fought with the bank,
took care of paperwork.
You and I might have different definitions of adulthood.
I don’t work for salary, I didn’t graduate from college,
but I don’t speak for others anymore,
and I don’t regret anything I can’t genuinely apologize for.
And my mother is proud of me.
I burned down a house of depression,
I painted over murals of greyscale,
and it was hard to rewrite my life into one I wanted to live
But today, I want to live.
I didn’t salivate over sharp knives,
or envy the boy who tossed himself off the Brooklyn bridge.
I just cleaned my bathroom,
did the laundry,
called my brother.
Told him, “it was a good day.
Kait Rokowski, “A Good Day” (via oofpoetry)