when i was in middle school i had a popular coheed and cambria song stuck in my head for over six months
when i turned fifteen every awkward silence was filled with “to allll skeet skeet motherfuckers, all skeet skeet goddamn”
when i went to college i only listened to instrumental music and metal
now all i hear is the hesitant twingling of a fucking mandolin forever
the rest of my life
Or, you know, you could just stop saying sorry.
I take it you don’t have anxiety.
You can’t “just stop saying sorry”. You do something, something so little, like accidentally bump into someone. You feel horrible about it. Your brain starts panicking and you have trouble trying to breathe. You stutter an apology. They say it’s okay, but you accidentally do it again, and you apologize again. They just say “Aha, you can stop saying sorry.” And you feel horrible that you’ve probably made them angry or upset, so you mutter out an apology for the third stupid time, and they just say to stop saying sorry. Stop saying sorry.
You can’t just tell someone to stop saying you’re sorry.
I want that comment on flyers so I can hang them in my school
reblogging this one for the GOOD commentary.
Fritz Henle: Nichole, Haiti, 1960.
there are three fluffy things in this house and i love them all so much