I’m very confused and frustrated and restless and I feel like I want to either vomit or throw myself in front of a bus. So I’m going to paint my nails an obnoxious pink shade and take a long hot shower.
I don’t need alcohol to make bad decisions
imagine gerard fucking cleaning the house and trying to put bandit down for a nap so she doesn’t inhale any pinesol or bleach. imagine him wearing rubber gloves as he scrubbed the floor. imagine him falling asleep on the couch because he was so tired from cleaning and lindsey comes home to a clean house and a sleeping bandit and just smiles at her family and orders pizza for dinner so gerard won’t have any dishes to clean up. imagine lindsey softly waking up gerard and chuckling at his red apron. imagine gerard’s sleepy eyes as he sees his wife is home. imagine gerard freaking out because he hasn’t dusted the shelves yet. imagine gerard fussing over bandit leaving crumbs all over his clean floor.
"don’t tell me I am pretty or thin or sweet or good until you have crawled inside my skin and felt the depths and shallows of me. only I know who I am. I live inside myself and it is a rotting cage."
my writing on my dashboard wow
Because being sad is comfortable and easy. And all therapy does is convince me to be better for an hour every week.
Things I Wish I Knew How To Do (Michelle K.)