Wow Quotes

HEEEELLLLLLOOOOOO! Here is the answer!!!!!!!!!!!!!




 awesome job you two! Another riddle coming! :)
I know girls who are trying to fit into the social norm, 
Like squeezing into last year's prom dress 
I know girls who are low rise, mac eyeshadow, and binge drinking 
I know girls that wonder if they're disaster and sexy enough to fit in 
I know girls who are fleeing bombs from the mosques of their skin 
Playing russian roulette with death; it's never easy to accept 
That our bodies are fallible and flawed 

But when do we draw the line? 
When the knife hits the skin? 
Isn't it the same thing as purging, 
Because we're so obsessed with death, 
Some women just have more guts than others
The funny thing is women like us don't shoot 
We swallow pills, still wanting to be beautiful at the morgue, 
Still proceeding to put on make-up, 
Still hoping that the mortician finds us f/ckable and attractive 
We might as well be buried with our shoes, 
and handbags and scarves, girls 

We flirt with death everytime we etch a new tally mark into our skin 
I know how to split my wrists like a battlefield too 
But the time has come for us to reclaim our bodies 
Our bodies deserve more than to be war-torn and collateral, 
Offering this f/ckdom as a pathetic means to say, 
"I only know how to exist when i am wanted" 
Girls like us are hardly ever wanted you know 
We're used up and sad and drunk and 
perpetually waiting by the phone for someone to pick up 
and tell us that we did good 
You did good. 

I know I am because I said I am
I know I am because I said I am
I know I am because I said I am,
My body is home 
My body is home
I know I am because I said I am
I know I am because I said I am
I know I am because I said I am

Try this 
Take your hands over your bumpy lovebody naked 
And remember the first time you touched someone 
With the sole purpose of learning all of them 
Touched them because the light was pretty on them 
And the dust in the sunlight danced the way your heart did 
Touch yourself with a purpose 

Your body is the most beautiful royal, 
fathers and uncles are not claiming your knife anymore, 
are not your razor, no 
Put the sharpness back 
Lay your hands flat and feel the surface of scarred skin 

I once touched a tree with charred limbs 
the stump was still breathing 
But the tops were just ashy remains, 
I wonder what it's like to come back from that 
Sometimes I feel a forest fire erupting from my wrists 
And the smoke signals sent out are the most beautiful things 
I've ever seen 
Love your body the way your mother loved your baby feet 
And brother, arm wrapping shoulders, and remember, 

This is important: 
You are worth more than who you f/ck 
You are worth more than a waistline 
You are worth more than beer bottles displayed like druken artifacts
You are worth more than any naked body could proclaim 
In the shadows, more than a man's whim 
or your father's mistake 

You are no less valuable as a size 16, than a size 4 
You are no less valuable as a 32A than a 36C, 
Your sexiness is defined by concentric circles within your wood; 
It is wisdom 
You are a godd/mn tree stump with leaves sprouting out: 

In just a few days,
2030 will be as far away as 2000

when someone compliments me
it's like wow
are u being forreal
like bless u and ur family
i hope all ur dreams come true
i want to travel across oceans and mountains. i want to experience the harshest of climates, from the bite of the himalayas to the humid intensity of the sahara. i want to speak to people in german, portuguese, french, spanish, italian. i want to write in russian and arabic and i want to pass people little notes with things like "vous êtes jolie!" or "sie sind sehr nett" written in my awful, ugly handwriting. i want to drive a car with the top down, or cling onto the back of a motorbike with my arms spread wide. i want to stuff my face with kulfi and vorschmack and baklava until i feel sick enough to puke. i want to stop this sham that i've called living.

No one understands you; no one knows what you’re going through, you’re alone or at least that’s what you think. Nobody would care if you’re alive or not, you mean nothing to nobody. It’s night, and you slip into bed. ’Goodbye’ you whisper into the darkness. And with that, you take your last breathe and end it all.

Nobody cares, right? Well you thought wrong.

It’s a Tuesday the following morning, and when it’s 7:21, your mother comes and knocks on your door. She doesn’t know you can’t hear her, she doesn’t know you’re gone. She knocks a few more times, calling your name to open up. When there is no reply from your side of the door, she opens it and screams. She collapses on the ground while your dad rushes to your room. Your siblings have already left for school. Your very weak mother collects all the energy she’s got which, is close to nothing, to walk over to your bed. She leans over your dead body, crying, squeezing your hand, screaming. Your dad is trying to stay strong, but the tears escape his eyes; calling 911 with his left hand while his other one is on your mother’s back. Your mother blames herself. All those times she had said ‘no’ to you, all those times she had screamed at you, and sent you to your room over something stupid. Your father will blame himself for not being there for you when you asked for help, for being away from home at work for long.

Nobody cares, right?

8:34. There’s a knock on your classroom door, it’s the school principle. She looks more worried than ever. She calls the teacher to the side; all the students worried: what’s going on? The principle then later announces your suicide. The popular girl that always called you fat and ugly is now blaming herself. The kid that would always copy your homework but treat you like crap, he’s blaming himself. The boy that sits behind you, the one that always threw things at you during class, he’s blaming himself too. The teacher is blaming herself - for all those times she’d scream at you for forgetting your homework, or not listening in class. People are crying, screaming, shocked, in regret of what they did. They’ll all be devastated, even the kids you’ve never talked to before.

Still nobody cares about you, right?

Your siblings get home. Your mother has to tell them that you’re gone; forever. Your little sister, no matter how many times she’s screamed at you, told you she hated you and stole your stuff, always loved you, and saw you as her hero; her role model. She now starts to blame herself; why didn’t I do what she told me to do when she told me to? Why did I take her stuff even when she asked me not to? This is all my fault. Your brother gets home; the boy that never cries. He’s now in his room; mad at himself, he caused your death. All those times he’d played pranks on you. He’s punching holes in his wall, turning over things; he doesn’t know how to deal with the fact that you’re gone. Forever.

Nobody cares about you, right? Right?

It has been over a month. The door to your room has been closed all this time. Everything is different now. Your brother has to be sent to anger management classes, your little sister cries everyday still waiting for you to come back. Everyday she waits for you to come back home. The popular girls have now turned anorexic. They don’t know how to deal with the pain that they’re feeling. Your father has depression; your mother hasn’t slept for nights, it’s all her fault. She’s been crying and screaming every night wishing for you to come back. The boy who would always bother you dropped out of school. The boy that copied your homework now cuts.

But nobody cares about you, aren’t I right?

Your mother finally decides to go clean out your room. But she can’t do it. She’s locked herself in your room for two days to try to clean up your clothes, your things. But she can’t she can’t say goodbye to you, not yet, not now. Never.

It’s your funeral. It’s a big one - everybody comes. No one knows what to say. The beautiful girl with the big smile is gone; you’re somewhere else. No one knows what to say, they’re all still shocked. Everyone cries, everyone misses you. They all wish you’d come back but you don’t, and you won’t.

Still think nobody cares about you? Think again. Even if people don’t show it, they care about you, they love you. If you kill yourself today or any other day you won’t know just how much you meant to people. If you kill yourself today, it stops your pain, but it pains all the ones who know you for the rest of their life. Suicide is the easy way out - but it’s the wrong choice. Life is beautiful. Yes, it does have its ups and downs, and everyone has their bad days. Sometimes people go through tough times in their lives, alike what you're going through now but bad times come and go. You might not see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it’s there. No matter how hard life gets, never give up on yourself, or on your life. Take a minute now, and think. If you killed yourself - how would the people that love you feel and go through? Can’t think of anything? Well I’ll tell you: tears, tears, and more tears. Devastation. Guilt. Pain. Broken. Regret. Miserable.

If after reading this you still feel suicidal, there are people that can help you. There are teachers, parents, grandparents, neighbors, adults, councilors - they’re all there for you whenever you need them.

 Grande or tall
a shot of expresso
iced coffee, horizon milk,
vanilla frappichino
caramel drizzle, and maybe some whipped cream
put it all together and it is my dream
you can even get a cake ball, a fresh cookie too
to satisfy the growing hunger in you


It is truly amazing.
It is truly amazing how you can be nothing but kind, caring, compassionate, empithatic, understanding, and honest with someone.
It is even more amazing how they can go right around and do the exact opposite.


Oh, I'm good. Seriously, after all these years, you'd think I would stop amazing myself. But here I am, still doing it.” 

-If you know where this is from I love you.
Okay, now I'm gonna say the answer! It is....

here are the people who got it right:
*You made it till November

Great job to all of you, hope you look forward to the next quote!! :
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