Psyche of a Hopeful Pessimist

Rants of a whiny college student

Tumblr Themes Gay does not mean interested in you.








Lesbian does not mean “probably going to hit on you”.

Homosexual isn’t a horny caricature trying to fuck you.

Get over yourself.

Bisexual does not mean “wants to have a threeway.”

Pansexual doesn’t mean ‘fuck everything and anything’.

Asexual doesn’t mean “just never had sex with you.”

Heterosexual doesn’t mean ‘I’m an asshole and bi/trans/homophobic.’



(Source: ramoorebooks, via pananbiciatemer)

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I think being emotionally stunted is the worst fucking thing ever.

It’s not cool to not be able to express to somebody how much they mean to you.

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Fuck you.
Tumblr Themes It’s the worst to fall in love with an old memory.

11:25 pm


Wow, I’m so lost here, I have no idea what to say. It’s going to be hard being away from you.

I have no idea how I’m going to survive, Jules. You’re not (weren’t, I guess now) just my girlfriend. You’re my best friend, counsellor, critic, and at some weird times, even mother. That’s a lot of people to lose all at one go. You’ve become a part of my life. How am I just supposed to…

Jyoti, I can’t get used to the fact that I actually can’t hug you anymore now. Forget that, the funnier bit is I can’t get used to the fact that I’m not allowed in your house anymore. So much for my dream home.

What’s worse is that I’m still holding on to the fact that you love me, regardless of whether you do. You engrained it. There’s always the odd moment when I pause my other thoughts and start thinking “Is she okay with this? Like, she has absolutely no problem without me?” That I had no lasting effect on you, is a sad sad thought.

But, I won’t ramble on anymore. You said nothing’s permanent, I thought we’d go on forever (you hate that word, so let’s say for a much longer time), but alas, I was proved wrong. Reminder for me to stop being a smartass, I guess. Even though I know you think we moved apart in the last three months, I can’t tell you how much I thank my fortune for it happening. I still remember how fast my heart was beating when I sent you that message, and I remember how there were butterflies in my stomach when I was on the phone with you, and you sent me the relationship request thingie. I also remember that super-warm feeling I got when that very same evening you sent a text saying “Someone needs to concentrate on his books rather than his girlfriend.”

You’ve given me the best two years of my life, and you’ve matured me in a way I don’t think I would’ve had I not had you. So, for the best friend I’ve ever had, the anchor and support of my entire life as I know it right now, and and for teaching me what it is like to love, Jyotsana Singh, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I can’t possibly express the pain I feel knowing I won’t have you anymore, but I’d like you to know:

I love you. I love you very very much. I can never ever want to hurt you, and whenever I have, I have neither intended to, nor have I not tried to avert it. I’ve loved you from a long long time, and love for you has taken a pretty strong place in my heart. I’m still going to love you for a long time to come, and even though I know I don’t need to say this, but if ever you need me, for anything at all, I’ll be waiting for you with open arms.

Goodnight Julesie. Sleep well.
I love you. Very very very very much.

- From the lover that shall always be remembered.
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These, for me, are the two most depressing paintings in western history. They were painted by post-impressionist Henry de Toulouse-Lautrec, a man who, due to inbreeding, was born with a genetic disorder that prevented his legs from growing after they were broken. After being so thoroughly mocked for is appearance, he became an alcoholic, which is what eventually caused his institutionalization and death. His only known romantic relations were with prostitutes.And then he paints something like this which is so beautiful and tender and sentimental. It seems like the couple in bed really loves each other—cares about each other. Wakes up happy to look at each other. And I see that love and passion and I wonder how lonely he must have been. I wonder how he could paint something like this without it breaking his heart. Maybe they say artists should create what they know, not because its unbelievable when they extend themselves beyond their experiences, but because when they pull it off with such elegance, it’s so damn unbearable to look at. I hate thinking of Lautrec, wondering about the lovers he created and knowing it was beyond his experience. Creating something that he knows is beautiful and knows he’ll never really understand. 

To express what you have never felt is art.
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He Died As He Has Lived; Alone
This headstone says a lot without saying much at all. Located in Snohomish, WA. 
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So these two posts popped up on my dashboard. 

Good timing.
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I really want this right now!!!
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Turquoise Bombay
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Advertising class, every time.