From All Sides

Constantly killing me
You’re invading my mind
You got it covered I can’t get in a word, edgewise
Oh with your fast lips and not a catalyst
Seems like the memories are coming at me from all sides
You’re all I see, surrounding me
From all I sides, all I see, surrounding me

Literally been in my head for about 4 days now. 

myheartonlybeatsforyou:


One of the first things they ask you in the ER is to rate your pain on a scale from 1 to 10. I’ve been asked this question hundreds of times and I remember once, when I couldn’t catch my breath and I felt like my chest was on fire, the nurse asked me to rate the pain. Though I couldn’t speak, I held up 9 fingers. Later, when I started feeling better, the nurse came in and she called me a fighter. “You know how I know?” she said, “You called a 10 a 9.” But that wasn’t the truth. 
I didn’t call it a 9 because I was brave. The reason I called it a 9 was because I was saving my 10…and this was it. 

Fuck. This scene took my fucking heart out. I died. I cried so hard in the theater. I fucked up my mascara and eyeliner. I went home and got really drunk with my roommates just so I couldn’t feel anything for the rest of the day.

When people were literally wailing in the cinema though.
Zoom Info
myheartonlybeatsforyou:


One of the first things they ask you in the ER is to rate your pain on a scale from 1 to 10. I’ve been asked this question hundreds of times and I remember once, when I couldn’t catch my breath and I felt like my chest was on fire, the nurse asked me to rate the pain. Though I couldn’t speak, I held up 9 fingers. Later, when I started feeling better, the nurse came in and she called me a fighter. “You know how I know?” she said, “You called a 10 a 9.” But that wasn’t the truth. 
I didn’t call it a 9 because I was brave. The reason I called it a 9 was because I was saving my 10…and this was it. 

Fuck. This scene took my fucking heart out. I died. I cried so hard in the theater. I fucked up my mascara and eyeliner. I went home and got really drunk with my roommates just so I couldn’t feel anything for the rest of the day.

When people were literally wailing in the cinema though.
Zoom Info
myheartonlybeatsforyou:


One of the first things they ask you in the ER is to rate your pain on a scale from 1 to 10. I’ve been asked this question hundreds of times and I remember once, when I couldn’t catch my breath and I felt like my chest was on fire, the nurse asked me to rate the pain. Though I couldn’t speak, I held up 9 fingers. Later, when I started feeling better, the nurse came in and she called me a fighter. “You know how I know?” she said, “You called a 10 a 9.” But that wasn’t the truth. 
I didn’t call it a 9 because I was brave. The reason I called it a 9 was because I was saving my 10…and this was it. 

Fuck. This scene took my fucking heart out. I died. I cried so hard in the theater. I fucked up my mascara and eyeliner. I went home and got really drunk with my roommates just so I couldn’t feel anything for the rest of the day.

When people were literally wailing in the cinema though.
Zoom Info
myheartonlybeatsforyou:


One of the first things they ask you in the ER is to rate your pain on a scale from 1 to 10. I’ve been asked this question hundreds of times and I remember once, when I couldn’t catch my breath and I felt like my chest was on fire, the nurse asked me to rate the pain. Though I couldn’t speak, I held up 9 fingers. Later, when I started feeling better, the nurse came in and she called me a fighter. “You know how I know?” she said, “You called a 10 a 9.” But that wasn’t the truth. 
I didn’t call it a 9 because I was brave. The reason I called it a 9 was because I was saving my 10…and this was it. 

Fuck. This scene took my fucking heart out. I died. I cried so hard in the theater. I fucked up my mascara and eyeliner. I went home and got really drunk with my roommates just so I couldn’t feel anything for the rest of the day.

When people were literally wailing in the cinema though.
Zoom Info

myheartonlybeatsforyou:

One of the first things they ask you in the ER is to rate your pain on a scale from 1 to 10. I’ve been asked this question hundreds of times and I remember once, when I couldn’t catch my breath and I felt like my chest was on fire, the nurse asked me to rate the pain. Though I couldn’t speak, I held up 9 fingers. Later, when I started feeling better, the nurse came in and she called me a fighter. “You know how I know?” she said, “You called a 10 a 9.” But that wasn’t the truth.

I didn’t call it a 9 because I was brave. The reason I called it a 9 was because I was saving my 10…and this was it. 

Fuck. This scene took my fucking heart out. I died. I cried so hard in the theater. I fucked up my mascara and eyeliner. I went home and got really drunk with my roommates just so I couldn’t feel anything for the rest of the day.

When people were literally wailing in the cinema though.