My name is Karen, and I am writing out my life story as I live it. Here lies pieces of it.
Background Illustrations provided by: http://edison.rutgers.edu/

It’s gotten to the point where I feel like I deserve an award if I go a day without having an anxiety attack / crying episode.

And yes, I deserve one today. I think it should come in the form of a Qdoba burrito because they now come with free guacamole and queso and other fun toppings and I really need a life bye.

I got a happy birthday card for my Tumblr turning 5 last week which is so incredibly weird. Half a decade. Gone? What?! So many things have changed (obviously) but that’s not what this is about. I miss being able to write the way I did when I was in high school. My writing wasn’t excellent, but the discipline I had was really beneficial to me, I think. I remember going to this website every day and writing rants about absolutely nothing (after scrolling through hours of reblogs, of course). I could be wrong, but sometimes I think writing kept me sane because it was something that I did consistently and it kept thoughts out of my head, and yet years later, for some reason, I let myself think that my life has gotten in the way of my writing outlet. I wish I had written more the past few years. Too much has happened without any record of my thoughts and reactions about them and now I’m driving myself crazy because everything is resurfacing and I’m just now trying to deal with them. I thought I was over all my crap, but it feels like I’m just starting to process them all over again. What is wrong with me?? Three years ago, I was experiencing some major life issues. I had so many emotions about them and told Pete what was going on, and he had told me to write it all down—the facts, my emotions, my thoughts— before they fled because spoken words are temporary, but written ones are permanent. As always, I blew him off like the idiot that I am (sorrysorrysorryidontknowwhyyoustickaround), and I wish I had listened.

I got a happy birthday card for my Tumblr turning 5 last week which is so incredibly weird. Half a decade. Gone? What?! So many things have changed (obviously) but that’s not what this is about. I miss being able to write the way I did when I was in high school. My writing wasn’t excellent, but the discipline I had was really beneficial to me, I think. I remember going to this website every day and writing rants about absolutely nothing (after scrolling through hours of reblogs, of course). I could be wrong, but sometimes I think writing kept me sane because it was something that I did consistently and it kept thoughts out of my head, and yet years later, for some reason, I let myself think that my life has gotten in the way of my writing outlet. I wish I had written more the past few years. Too much has happened without any record of my thoughts and reactions about them and now I’m driving myself crazy because everything is resurfacing and I’m just now trying to deal with them. I thought I was over all my crap, but it feels like I’m just starting to process them all over again. What is wrong with me?? Three years ago, I was experiencing some major life issues. I had so many emotions about them and told Pete what was going on, and he had told me to write it all down—the facts, my emotions, my thoughts— before they fled because spoken words are temporary, but written ones are permanent. As always, I blew him off like the idiot that I am (sorrysorrysorryidontknowwhyyoustickaround), and I wish I had listened.

Reblogged from asdfghjkllove  168,428 notes
thepowerofmoonlight:

Learnt an interesting thing today on this arabic course,
The original Arabic number system looked like this, the one we now use.
It was designed so each character had the corresponding number of angles to the number, so the number 1 has 1 angle, 2 has 2 angles, 3 has 3, 0 has none etc…
It is so obvious now, I’ve always assumed its one of those things that just is, with no logical explanation, but here it is, perfectly simple and satisfying

thepowerofmoonlight:

Learnt an interesting thing today on this arabic course,

The original Arabic number system looked like this, the one we now use.

It was designed so each character had the corresponding number of angles to the number, so the number 1 has 1 angle, 2 has 2 angles, 3 has 3, 0 has none etc…

It is so obvious now, I’ve always assumed its one of those things that just is, with no logical explanation, but here it is, perfectly simple and satisfying

It’s easy to write on the Internet. There is no expectation for anyone to read it. If people do, strangers who come across it never put a face and personality to it. Even when it is people you know reading your rants, they’re not right there to confront you, to judge you—at the very least, you’re not there to experience it. I think I could seriously spill my guts to anyone as long as I would never have to see them again. Maybe it could get rid of all of this junk, I don’t know. Is there way to go therapy, get all my issues fixed, and be 100 percent sure that I would never ever see their face again? I hate follow-ups.