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Hello, my name's Hannah Virginia. I post things that interest me. I'm learning to accept myself for who I am and be a happier person.
Stuff (trigger warning?)

I watched that episode of Lizzie McGuire a couple weeks ago where Miranda gets an eating disorder (idk ok) and Miranda was like “it’s just that my body is the only thing I have control over in my life anymore” or something like that and I hear that line a lot, like that eating disorders have to do with having control and I was always so confused because I felt like I wasn’t doing this for control at all until nooooow where I just realized that I am doing it for control, because I’m getting really stressed out lately and I’m in a lot of situations that I have zero control over and I started restricting my eating a lot more. also I realized that I think I’ve known I had an eating disorder since like Christmas time last year, I just didnt feel like I was “sick enough” to actually have like a real eating disorder so yeah sucks I didn’t just get help then ok that is all

Shelley Jackson’s Skin project, a 2095-word story published exclusively in tattoos, one word each on as many willing volunteers, so it can never be read in its proper order, but just exists, pulsing, out in the world at all times. 
Your life is not an episode of Skins. Things will never look quite as good as they do in a faded, sun-drenched Polaroid; your days are not an editorial from Lula. Your life is not a Sofia Coppola movie, or a Chuck Palahniuk novel, or a Charles Bukowski poem. Grace Coddington isn’t your creative director. Bon Iver and Joy Division don’t play softly in the background at appropriate moments. Your hysterical teenage diary isn’t a work of art. Your room probably isn’t Selby material. Your life isn’t a Tumblr screencap. Every word that comes out of your mouth will not be beautiful and poignant, infinitely quotable. Your pain will not be pretty. Crying till you vomit is always shit. You cannot romanticize hurt. Or sadness. Or loneliness. You will have homework, and hangovers and bad hair days. The train being late won’t lead to any fateful encounters, it will make you late. Sometimes your work will suck. Sometimes you will suck. Far too often, everything will suck - and not in a Wes Anderson kind of way. And there is no divine consolation - only the knowledge that we will hopefully experience the full spectrum - and that sometimes, just sometimes, life will feel like a Coppola film.
by Letters From Nowhere (via intersticiales)
elayquotes: fave
rubyetc: Taking paper wherever I go is essentially my security blanket.
apologize to your body.
maybe,
that’s where the healing begins.
by (via asubtleradiance)