I just wanna have abs…olutely all the pasta and breadsticks
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workouts.
- before: i'm gonna kick ass at this, just you see. i'll have abs, a cute ass BUTT, and omg, THE LEGS.
- during: what the hell, why am i doing this, OH SHIT, CRAMP
- after: IJUSTKICKEDTOTALASSDIDYOUSEETHOSEBUTTKICKSOHYEAH
- an hour later: where are my abs
- 1/4 part of me: I want to be cute and delicate and have a petite body.
- 1/4 part of me: I want to look smokin' hot and sexy in a bikini and have curves and a fuck you attitude
- 1/4 part of me: I don't even care man I can totally eat all of that cake watch me
- 1/4 part of me: I want to murder everyone and laugh as i bathe in their blood
Anonymous asked:
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are you tryiNG TO CALL ME FAT?!
you’re not what you look like. you’re the music you listen to, the shows you watch, the art you make, the flowers in your hair, your favourite blanket. you’re not the pimple on your nose or the pudge on your stomach. You’re not your thighs or your teeth. you’re the colour of your hair, you’re your favourite band, you’re the mismatch socks you wear and your favourite sweater. You’re what you love, you’re not what you look like or the body you are in.
Oh my God, what if you wake up some day, and you’re 65, or 75, and you never got your memoir or novel written; or you didn’t go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid? It’s going to break your heart. Don’t let this happen.
And God said “Love Your Enemy,” and I obeyed him and loved myself.
خليل جبران Khalil Gibran (via fitness-fits-me)
