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I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know that just to be alive is a grand thing. Well, sometimes. Hello, I'm Darcy and I'm from Melbourne, Australia. I am 18.
This is my face

~ Friday, May 25 ~

I’m a fucking cat. (Taken with instagram)

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caffeine-cranked:

people, drop everything else, this is the coolest style hat can be worn this summer.

(Source: wasoserious)

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hushhtess replied to your post: High flying times.

you are my soul mate

Tess, we’re getting married. I also bought Arnold, my cat, in the bath with us. Aw yeah. Deffs soul mates.

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High flying times.

Thea and I currently having a bubble bath after smoking a wonderful joint.

Life is fucking swell.

Tags: We have bathers high stoned bath bubble bath fuck yes.
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~ Wednesday, May 23 ~

(Source: 4rtf4rt)

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(Source: sirenchild)

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“OMG, LOVE LIFE”. Then, “Get the fuck away from me camera man, or I’ll shank you. Fucker”. (Taken with instagram)

I’m angry at you.

You clearly know you’re doing this the unhealthy way.
It’s almost like you’re gratifying having an eating disorder.
You’ve made it into a competition.

You don’t know what it’s like to not know why you’re starving yourself, or eating food for the sake of it and then throwing it up. You don’t know what it’s like to have heart palpitations all the time, because of constant purging. Fainting and hitting your head because you’ve refused to eat. Putting yourself in the hospital because you cannot do it anymore. Watching your family and friends cry because of the choices you’re making; choices I’m making, but I don’t understand why I’m making them. Sitting at the dinner table for over an hour trying to finish a meal while your family sits there, waiting. Trying not to purge.
You know why you’re making these decisions- to lose weight.

5 years of this, and I still don’t know why.
Stop.

Tags: Crying Friends Eating disroder

~ Tuesday, May 22 ~

My sister’s cat is strange.

Tags: cat strange lol saaaaaa good.
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I bought a slinky today. Bye.

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~ Monday, May 21 ~

hushhtess asked: SRSLY EATING SUSHI IN THE CITY WITH YOU SOUNDS ABSOLOUTELY FABBY DAB DAB! So excited, one day, one day!

YES! OMG SO EXCITED!

I like it when I’m on my phone and messages people send me decide not to ‘publish privately’, even when I choose it. Soz, Tess!

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hushhtess asked: No i'll go dig it up now! Anytime baby! Is Melbourne amazing?!?! I really wanna go! x

Thankya, luuuurvely! Melbourne is such a fun place to live. It basically has everything, and the people are lovely! You should come visit and we can hang in the city and have adventures and eat sushi!

~ Thursday, May 17 ~

Fuck you, anon fuck.

You are ignorant.
XoxOXoOXOXoxOXoOXOXOOOXxxxOXoXo

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~ Wednesday, May 16 ~

The Loneliest Whale in the World.
In 2004, The New York Times wrote an article about the loneliest whale in the world. Scientists have been tracking her since 1992 and they discovered the problem:
She isn’t like any other baleen whale. Unlike all other whales, she doesn’t have friends. She doesn’t have a family. She doesn’t belong to any tribe, pack or gang. She doesn’t have a lover. She never had one. Her songs come in groups of two to six calls, lasting for five to six seconds each. But her voice is unlike any other baleen whale. It is unique—while the rest of her kind communicate between 12 and 25hz, she sings at 52hz. You see, that’s precisely the problem. No other whales can hear her. Every one of her desperate calls to communicate remains unanswered. Each cry ignored. And, with every lonely song, she becomes sadder and more frustrated, her notes going deeper in despair as the years go by.

Now I am sad.

The Loneliest Whale in the World.

In 2004, The New York Times wrote an article about the loneliest whale in the world. Scientists have been tracking her since 1992 and they discovered the problem:

She isn’t like any other baleen whale. Unlike all other whales, she doesn’t have friends. She doesn’t have a family. She doesn’t belong to any tribe, pack or gang. She doesn’t have a lover. She never had one. Her songs come in groups of two to six calls, lasting for five to six seconds each. But her voice is unlike any other baleen whale. It is unique—while the rest of her kind communicate between 12 and 25hz, she sings at 52hz. You see, that’s precisely the problem. No other whales can hear her. Every one of her desperate calls to communicate remains unanswered. Each cry ignored. And, with every lonely song, she becomes sadder and more frustrated, her notes going deeper in despair as the years go by.

Now I am sad.

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High flying times.

I’m angry at you.

Fuck you, anon fuck.

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