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lillypeppermint:

nightwatch-official:

geekygothgirl:

gorgonetta:

[Painting of Death as a spectral nanny taking a child and infant away from their bereaved family.  A detail shows the family’s house number is 1918.]

I never realized this until seeing the detail, but this painting is most likely about the flu pandemic.

it’s really interesting seeing death portrayed as a woman 

Especially a a nurturer rather than a destroyer

(Source: ex0skeletal, via tomatoes-andgravy)

nevver:

Monsters of the Deep, The Goblin Shark

(via thougghtless)

It feels like I’ve had my heart ripped out but it won’t stop beating. It feels like I’m falling but there’s no bottom to break the fall. I just need a few hours of peace, just a little while where my mind is quiet. Where I can just enjoy the fact that I survived. But I don’t get that. It’s this constant stream of thoughts in my head telling me I failed, that it didn’t work because of me. And deep down inside I don’t beleive that. But it’s just that negativity that weighs you down and overpowers everything light. This darkness comes in waves, crashing over you. Some waves are ok. I don’t blame myself at all- it happens alot. Other waves it anchors me down. I don’t just feel like I’ve killed something beautiful- I feel like I’ve killed a part of me as well, and in that part was the chance of ever being happy ever again.
But life goes on. Waves don’t destroy everything. They just make it harder to swim. I still wake up every morning and go to bed at night. I’ve survived.
It’s enough for now.
Just as long as my waves don’t turn into a tsunami, I’ll still be here: falling for what seems like forever.

1 in 4 women who get pregnant, don’t have babies at the end of their pregnancy.
I just want to know why the world doesn’t acknowledge miscarriage as a common thing. It’s still such a silent subject that everyone avoids.
Everyone is so quick to embrace and celebrate the pregnancy. But no one has the right words to say if anything goes wrong.
I lost my baby at 12 weeks- I was in the “safe zone”. I started my contractions at 12:30 am Monday morning- and passed my baby through around 2pm tuesday evening. But the contractions kept coming, and I had to have my uterus cleared out of what the doctors called ‘remaining product’.
It hurt. It still hurts. Not physically anymore- just emotionally.
I want to talk to the world about how I feel. I want to be able to hug my beautiful fiancé and talk about all the ‘what if’s’. But all I’ve been getting is pity from others. I don’t want flowers or chocolate or people crying because they’re sorry for my loss.
Nobody gives me a pregnancy test and says ‘you’ll be successful next time’ or pats you on the back and says ‘congratulations on getting preggers in the first place. At least it’s possible for you’.

I’d love if people could see the good side of it. The doctors calling the rest of my baby ‘product’ was insulting. It had a heartbeat. It was growing, eating, breathing and going to the toilet inside of me. It had fingers and toes. It was a small human being, a baby. Not a product.
God bless my baby. Our baby. The one we’d loved everyday since the day we knew it existed. We saw it’s heartbeat. We saw my body change as it got older and bigger.
Fingers crossed that once my body is healed a bit more, we get the opportunity to create another life. Fingers crossed that life loves long enough inside of me to see the outside world.

(Source: lahvau, via unbasic)

(Source: wefoundxlove, via hoetion)

♡ no matter what we breed, we still are made of greed ♡

(Source: ta-nizzle, via crushwhore)

(Source: blowkissesnotboys, via unbasic)

(Source: maballsies, via stupidfuckingsims)

(Source: anthonyamadeo, via doyousex)

(via krook)

(Source: chaosiskillingme, via hoetion)

(Source: sadecisions, via longacidtrips)