reblog and make a wish!
this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)
OH MY FUCKING GOD, IT’S BACK ON MY DASH.
THIS SHIT WORKS OKAY, I AM DEAD SERIOUS.
The last time I saw this on my dash, I didn’t think it would happen, so jokingly I wished I could go to a fun. concert.
AND GUESS WHAT, I WENT TO A FUCKING FUN. CONCERT.
THIS SHIT WORKS, TRY IT.
I SAW THIS ON MY DASH THE OTHER DAY AND THOUGHT “ITS WORTH A TRY” SO I WISHED I COULD GET A 3DS
LITERALLY LIKE 4 DAYS LATER MY DAD SENT ME A PICTURE OF THE 3DS XL HE BOUGHT FOR ME WHILE I WAS AT SCHOOL
IM STILL FREAKING OUT ABOUT THIS
holy fuck, I didn’t expect this to work, I was like psh, whatever it’s just a quick reblog, but I wished my Dad would actually respond back to me AND HE FUCKING DID A FEW DAYS LATER, I GOT A FUCKING TEXT FROM MY DAD TODAY WHO HASN’T SPOKEN OR RESPONDED TO ME IN MONTHS HOLY FUCK WHAT IS THIS MAGIC IT WORKS.
I WANTED TO SEE MY BOYFRIEND AND I DIDN’T THINK I’D GET DAYS OFF BUT THIS WEEKEND I’M HEADING UP THERE??? THIS IS CRAZY SHIT
SO LIKE I JOKINGLY WISHED FOR MY OWN LEN KAGAMINE AND THEN LIKE A WEEK LATER I GOT A LEN NENDOROID??? H ELP
WTF OKAY SO THIS SHOT ACTUALLY WORKS BECAUSE WHEN I WISHED, I HAD WISHED MY CRUSH WOULD LIKE ME BACK AND GUESS WHAT? I HAVE A BOYFRIEND NOW. WHAT THE HELLLLL?????
ok I’ve said this before but IM DOING IT AGAIN THE FIRST TIME I SAW THIS, MY WISH DID COME TRUE SO I REBLOGED AGAIN AND SAID IT IN THE TAGS BUT THEN I WISHED FOR SMTH ELSE AND IT LITERALLY LITERALLY HAPPENED LIKE A COUPLE DAYS LATER WHAT THE HELL SO NOW IM WRITING THIS HERE FOR YOU BC I DONT BELIEVE IN THIS CRAP BUT STILL IT’S AN AWFULLY BIG COINCIDENCE
OKAY I SWEAR TO GOD THIS THING WORKS YOU HAVE TO PATIENT BC I WISHED THAT I COULD MOVE AWAY FROM MY SHITTY TOWN TO A WARM PLACE AND GUESS WHAT THIS JULY IM MOVING TO NORTH CAROLINA OKAY GUYS IM NOT MAKING THIS UP I AM SO CONFUSED ACTUALLY THIS IS GREAT BYE
LEMME TELL U SOMETHING THIS SHIT WORKS
THIS WORKS, I SWEAR, I TRIED, AND IT CAME TRUE LIKE LAST WEEK SO TRY IT I SWEAR
I’m still waiting for my wish about my choir teacher BUT I GOT NIGHT COURT BACK IN SYNDICATION BABY! DOOOOOOO IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!!!!!!!!
Macklemore - Otherside Ft. Fences (Official Music Video)
The man stood in his room, wondering why he was thinking the thoughts he was having. His thoughts weren’t his own, he stared at that razor on his bed and knew that the solution to his problems lied within the small mirrored composition of its metal. He knew that he could do it, he knew it would leave him feeling happy, that as he slipped into darkness he would feel better, that all the guilt, the worthlessness, the pain, misery, and addiction would disappear into a sweet nothingness. Then after spending his time in the universes waiting room he would be reborn, a chance to start again, but as what? He knew that his life was actually pretty good compared to most but he was sick of being nothing, he was sick of the pain people put him through, and he was sick of hurting others. He knew it would hurt the people he loved if he picked up that tool, the only thing he really trusted anymore. He’d lost his brother to the same thing he was about to do and knew the pain it had put him through. Yet it was so inviting, knowing he could just end it all, knowing that it could all just end with only a little bit of pain. He would do it the tub he thought, less of a mess that way. Of course you had to actually have a fairly decent amount of water in it in order to actually not stain the white material in it. Was it porcelain, the base of it was, the imbedded mat that was on the bottom was definitely made of rubber, and rubber stained easily in coloured liquid. Maybe he wouldn’t do it in the tub. He wanted his knew brother to be able to take a shower in it again without having to remember seeing his body in it. Maybe he would take off in the middle of the night, no then that would just prolong their pain, drag it out till they found the body. But he can’t stand the nightmares, waking up and knowing that the nightmare continued even in his waking hours. He couldn’t get high anymore, he didn’t want to go down that road again. He wanted to make it quick, but he didn’t want it to be preventable, if he overdosed on one of his pills, they could perform a stomach pump on him and it would all go away and he’d be put in the hospital for what the doctors would call another “fake suicide attempt” if he fucked this up he would never be able to go back to his family again, not that they supported his emotional states any way. He’d lost the one person he could talk to anymore because he was an idiot, he couldn’t make any friends anymore, he was too mentally estranged, he couldn’t even fucking sleep anymore because the medication that was supposed to get rid of the nightmares wasn’t working and his nightmares were even worse than ever since he came back to that fucking house. He kept having cravings for blood, something he hadn’t felt in a year. He knew that there were two ways to get help, cry beg and scream for it or find the help he needed in the solution that was on his bed right now. His parents were unwilling to get him the help he needed, instead he was stuck with his therapist once every two weeks. He couldn’t even tell his therapist the thoughts he was having at the moment because it was still another week and a half till he would meet with him. And there was that reflective beautiful solution on his bed. He’d always thought that the gun method was to violently messy. Hanging was out cause that was very easily botched, if the rope didn’t snap when you reached the end of it then you could be saved. Plus there weren’t many things that could support the sudden weight of a body reaching the end of the rope. The Hemmingway solution was out, he wasn’t at all good at doing things with his feet, and then there was an even worse mess than that of a bullet through the temple, considering that more than half of his head was likely to be blown off. He could tape a plastic bag over his head, that would actually be a good choice, but he absolutely hated the feeling of not being able to breath. When he did this he was going to enjoy it. That’s why that razor was so damn appealing, he loved his own blood, he loved watching it spill over his own skin, dripping into that little cup that he would drink from when he was done. If he slit up the inside of his forearm, there was no coming back from that past two minutes and that was appealing except everyone in his house knew more than basic first aid. But he would get to drink all the blood spilling out of his veins into the bath tub. His brother was moving out soon anyway, he wouldn’t be in that house for more than two months. But he couldn’t wait for his brother to leave, he didn’t want to keep going through the day to day misery. In the last week and half he had gotten about 5 hours of sleep. And he just wanted to sleep, that’s all he wanted was to sleep and not wake up. That’s it! That’s a good solution, no nevermind, when you overdose on sleeping pills you don’t just get sleepy, you feel pain in your chest, the pain of your organs shutting down. The razor is still the best solution, that beautiful razor that only a past cutter can find so friendly. That razor has always been his best friend, it’s the only friend that’s stayed his friend for so long, it’s the only one that never called him weird, or broke up with him to be with someone else, it’s the only one that never called him an ungrateful, miserable worthless piece of shit. It’s the only thing that ever made him truly happy, it’s the only that ever made him feel beautiful inside, that made him feel like he was worth something. But if he was going to cut again he was going to do it one last final time. One more time he thought, one more time and I’ll never feel that pain again. He stared at it intently, realizing that if only he was a better person, he wouldn’t feel this way. But he wasn’t a better person, he was a worthless piece of shit that was going to be in highschool for six fucking years. A worthless piece of shit that was going to do nothing but disappoint his parents, disappoint everyone. He was just going to hurt people even more if he didn’t do this. He was already dead inside, now it was time to follow up. He was spiraling and he knew it. But god dammit he actually wanted this now. The doctors had all said he wasn’t really suicidal, that he was just trying to get attention. They had all reassured him that he wasn’t suicidal, that he was just some young dumb attention seeker. Little did they know he just wanted to sleep for a very long time, with no dreams, no pain, just waiting to be born again into another life. All he wanted was sleep. Sleep was calling him, and the phone it was using was deep within his veins, and it could be reached with that beautifully divine tool on his bed. All I wanted was to sleep…
"Pudding" is a resident Fox at the National Fox Welfare Society, as he’s too friendly to be released back to the wild
I actually own a desert fox as a pet. Her names Swinga after my favorite music type.