A Storyteller's Smile and Dreamer's Eyes. ~

(Source: great-freedom, via pitchblacklesbian)

I don’t even know if this makes sense. I’m exhausted.

Last week, my Nana on my mom’s side found a large lump in her breast. She had a mammogram, and they found out she had two unknown lumps in her breast, so they’re going to do tests on them. If she has breast cancer, I don’t know what I’ll do.

Because not only will that mean that, well, holy fucking shit, my grandmother has breast cancer, but that will also mean, holy shit, there’s a pretty good chance I will get breast cancer.

My grandmother on my father’s side, who I was very close to and who passed away earlier last year, had breast cancer as well, and she had to get a breast removed. Now, I’m not sure which it is, her mother or her grandmother, but one of them had breast cancer as well.

At this point, if it turns out that my Nana has breast cancer, the thought of having kids will be completely erased from my mind. I already hadn’t planned on it, but I refuse to pass on these shitty genes. As much as I would like to see my eyes or my features in a child of my own, it just wouldn’t be fair to have knowledge of the fact that I’m taking a gamble and may or may not be passing on a lethal disease - or, god forbid, my struggles with my attention and anxiety disorders - to my kid. If I really, truly want a child when I feel like the time comes, I think I’ll adopt it from someone.

(Source: eu-pho-riaa, via pitchblacklesbian)

Anxiety ~ Angels and Airwaves

Faster, I dream in speeds of ashes,
My heart it beats and crashes.
I’m running from the truth,
‘cause it fucks with my mi-i-ind.

Waiting, we’re silly, we’re so reckless.
The city, it’s so heartless.
A bottle full of crude,
that washed up in the ti-i-ide.

Don’t pressure us,
(Anxiety)
I’m a passenger.
So serious,
(Anxiety)
Just a passenger.

Handsome and callous, young believers.
Hiding, plotting schemers,
and rotting out like fruit,
that was left here to di-i-ie.

Talking, playing after hours,
time is bending outward.
I’m falling to my knees
To crawl home, safe insi-i-ide.

Don’t pressure us,
(Anxiety)
I’m a passenger.
So dangerous,
(Anxiety)
Just a passenger.

Don’t pressure us,
(Anxiety)
I’m a passenger.
So serious,
(Anxiety)
Just a passenger.

(Don’t pressure us.
Don’t pressure us.
Don’t pressure us.
Don’t pressure us.)

Don’t pressure us,
(Anxiety)
I’m a passenger.
So dangerous,
(Anxiety)
Just a passenger.

Don’t pressure us,
(Anxiety)
I’m a passenger.
So serious,
(Anxiety)
Just a passenger.

Thank you, Chelsey, for showing me this song. It really helps. <3

(via alohaalaskabear)

(Source: rainbowbuttcake, via rebels0ul)

(via so-relatable)

(Source: ferdominguezv, via sammie21692)

(via rebels0ul)

The name is Kayla Ashlee Swan. Sixteen years young. Braden River High School. ADHD and an anxiety disorder. Florida. Bisexual, and happy to tell anyone who wants to know. I really like cats. And unicorns. Questionable eye color that generally ranges between gray, green and blue, reddish brown hair. I love - Being cryptic. Reading. Writing. Lime green and purple. Ginger Ale. Tea. Bad language. Sarcasm. Technology. Peppermint. Laughing. Psychology. Girls and boys. Laziness. Smiling. Single.