arctı𝖼 fox

🦉.⋆♱ این پیام رو فوروارد کنید توی چنلتون تا از بین کتابایی که خوندم بهتون یه دیالوگ یا quote بدم.

بی ادباااااا

بوس ندید آفرین

بوس ندید آفرین

بچه‌های خوبی باشید بوسش نکنید

بچه‌های خوبی باشید بوسش نکنید

بوس ندید آفرین

💋

سینتونم که به درد نمی‌خوره، بوسم که نمی‌دید

خیلی دارید لفت می‌دید، من دارم‌ منتال‌بریکداون می‌کنم نمی‌تونم پست بذارم اینجا.

بوس بدید

نشونمون بده:)))

یادتونه واسه ناخن ازتون سوال کردم؟ کلا یه چیز دیگه زدم.

منم خیلی tea هستم، قاtea.

I used to think of myself as "depressed." That was how I described who I was. Like Sad Girl by Lana Del Rey, I imagined myself as a tainted soul carrying a lifetime of sorrow on my back. Someone who kept going, smiled every now and then, didn't die, didn't spend every single moment in unbearable pain... but was always, truly, deeply sad. But lately, I've realized that maybe... that's not who I am. If I take off the mask of depression that wrapped itself around me in my teenage years, who am I? I'm loud. I'm full of life. I'm the second—and youngest—child in my family, the one who was always quietly getting into trouble. I'd walk into a room looking innocent, then completely surprise everyone with my loud laugh and endless energy. I'm not a quiet person. The jokes I make genuinely make people laugh—I don't think anyone has ever forced a laugh around me. I'm not even an introvert. I'm somewhere in the middle. Sometimes being around people genuinely fills me with energy. Whether I'm drunk or sober, with alcohol or without it, I'm always trying to keep the mood alive. I'm the person who walks into a room, throws myself into my friends' arms, teases them, messes with them dramatically just to make them laugh. I'm not passive or easily satisfied either. I've always chased the things I truly wanted. That's the real me. Depression is there. It can come and go. It can hurt me or leave me alone. It can stay for a while or only visit briefly. But I don't define myself by it anymore. I'm going to do my best to never forget who Nikie really is. Not this time.