Kathryn Mary Rose
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I'm 21, ballet is my passion, and I'm about to be a mother.
I've changed my entire mentality to better myself, and the journey has been a struggle. I have come so far, yet I have only just begun.
This is where you can slip into my expanding mind.
I warn you, it's not a very pretty place.

(Source: runswiththestars, via roarieyum)


90’s flashback: Audrey Marnay by Jean-Baptiste Mondino for Nina Ricci’s L’Air du Temps fragrance campaign 1998.


90’s flashback: Audrey Marnay by Jean-Baptiste Mondino for Nina Ricci’s L’Air du Temps fragrance campaign 1998.

(via mademoisellezo)

(Source: faketalesofmardybum, via theswaninthelouboutins)

(Source: psicreepy, via twinkboiwonder)

(Source: bikinibottom-hearts, via shakinlikethedevil)

It’d be nice if people would be there when I need them. Don’t fucking hit me up only when you wanna bother me with drama, or you need a ride. And then ignore me when I actually need a friend. I give you your fucking rides. I listen to your fucking drama. I deal with your fucking nonsense. The least you could do is be a good fucking friend.

Don’t get mad at me when I don’t give you approval on your shitty behavior, and blame me for not keeping in touch. I reached out numerous times to numerous people, some of which I considered best friends. I don’t really text anybody anymore, because I’m literally sick to my stomach with the inevitable end result of always being bailed on. I’d rather not continuously get my hopes killed by people who used to be there for me. It’s just depressing.

Meanwhile, baby daddy is slowly getting his shit together (supposedly) but has given no more encouragement of helping me. I asked him what he wants to do. He evades the question and tells me about how he got his license back, etc etc. I reiterate the question later in the day. No reply. I text him again a couple days later, being neutral and understanding, but making it clear that I need to know his intentions. No reply. I guess I have my answer. Still haven’t seen him since September. He hasn’t done shit for me or our baby. And to those who came up with the idea that we were for some reason “back together” or some shit, go fuck yourselves in the asshole with a cactus and get a life. We were never together, we never will be, and I don’t need to be bothered with accusations of my non-existent love life about someone who isn’t even in my life.

I’m due in four weeks, I’ve dealt with too much bullshit from too many people, and I’ve let people walk all over me in hopes that maybe somebody would actually return the favor of being nice. I’m literally fucking done. The last person who pressured me to tell them what was wrong with me, I laid it all out in front of them via text after holding it all in. All they said was “Wow that’s some deep shit,” insisted we talk in person, yet has fucked off and ignored me since.
This is why I don’t open up to people. The last attempt at a friend/relationship has fucking fled from me upon learning why I’m so fucking depressed.

I can’t wait to have this baby so I have a reason to stay home and not fuck with a single person except family. I’m going to raise my son better than you fucks. If you actually cared enough to read this, now would be a good time to tell me to calm down and be happy, because I’ve completely abandoned any attempt at making friends.

(Source: spoonfulofwhimsy, via kyliekinss)

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