1. Don’t blatantly stare at them everytime they pass by you
2. Don’t add them back on Facebook after they’ve deleted you
3. If they are worried about you and ask you to just reassure them that you are not dead(because they have NO IDEA that you’re ignoring them), please let them know
4. Stop being a disrespectful asshole and don’t ignore them in the first place. How about that?
Alyssa Marie. 22 years. Libra sun-Gemini moon-Leo rising. INFP. Enneagram type 4 wing 5. Hufflepuff. Button. Juliet. Moth. Artist.
These are my insides.
nonsenseinspiration.tumblr.com
1. Massage therapy
2. The 1920’s
3. Glittery pencils
4. Inappropriate puppets
5. Rainbow chasers
6. Perfectly rolled burritos
7. Herb gardens
8. Vegetarian tamales
9. Professionally dyed hair in a salon(it has literally been 5 years)
10. Cold brew coffee
11. Spontaneous club dancing
12. Being in a theatre again

Ashland is a weird place. Now that I’ve been here for four months, I think I can safely say that. It has some majorly contrasting demographics. There’s the homeless and the hippie-artists, they provide some kind of that weirdo culture Ashland puts off. There’s the old retires who go to OSF shows and file noise complaints. And then there’s the college-town aspect of it, the young college kids who don’t know what they want.
It’s just weird.
I obviously identify with the kids. But still I’m different.
There’s a weird thing about me, in my bones. I’m wild. I’m childlike. I like being busy and always having new things and experiencing everything possible. I always want some kind of stimulation.
Lately I feel like everyone’s complaining about Ashland or SOU or the tourists or the food or the lack of nightlife or SOMETHING. It’s really wearing me down. And if I think about it too much, my wild bones say, “Oh, maybe this isn’t the right place for me either.” and then I get sad and I stop trying to find the beauty.
But okay. Is there anyone out there who likes where they live?
And the next question is, why not?!
We get too wrapped up in our brains. We’re constantly thinking the grass is greener somewhere else. I consider myself a drifter or a wanderer, and I’d love to explore as many places as I can as much as the next person, but I should enjoy myself wherever I am too!
No place is perfect. Every city has flaws. But there is also just so much beauty that no one focuses on. Yes, I wish I could go out more often, but maybe I do need to focus on myself a bit more. Yeah, I hate the liquor laws here, but that means I just drink more fabulous red wine! The truth is, you’re never gonna be happy anywhere if you’re not happy with where you are at any given moment in time. I urge everyone to do their research about the silly town they live in. Find the good things, the big ones, the small ones. Write a list. No town is like your town and that’s why it’s awesome.
I’m definitely still going to move and explore, but I might as well enjoy it while I’m here.
Things I love about Ashland, Oregon:
—Lithia Park—the weather—Morning Glory—The Jackson Wellsprings—The Oregon Shakespeare Festival—no sales tax—very friendly strangers—walking across streets and not having to give a shit—walking EVERYWHERE—the vast array of coffee shops, yoga and massage clinics—Ashland Co-Op—small-town feel—small businesses
And because I never appreciated the beauty in the other places I’ve lived, here’s a small bit of love for them too:
The Folsom-area’s one-of-a-kind sunsets, creative sushi, and wooden castle park
Amador’s incredible thrift and antique shops, hidden caverns, and Munnerlynn’s homemade ice cream(OHMYGOD, do I miss that)
Anaheim had Disneyland, massive blocked-street farmer’s markets, and so much excitement!(and mind you, I was allergic to SoCal)
The Divide(my hometown) hasan extremely supportive community, gorgeous twisty car rides, and tiny town charm
Not too bad. Do it. Love where you live. Even if you’re gonna move.
1. Very strong orange juice margaritas
2. My new healed tattoo
3. Glitter, stars, and corsets
4. Fuck You music playlists
5. New hats
6. Fairy pond picnics
7. Umi Sushi (still not Blue Nami, but still pretty wondrous)
8. Flower petals in the wind
9. La Roux
10. Still-warm rainstorms
11. Cheesy spicy tofu flautas
12. Twisted ear cuffs
When I was seven years old, I was diagnosed with OCD, anxiety disorder, and clinical depression. I promptly went on strong doses medication for it(Zoloft and Paxil, specifically). I got tests and evaluations, and went through some of the strangest therapies you could possibly think of. This continued for years. I was a pretty messed up kid.
Serotonin is a neurotransmitter chemical in the brain that helps with sleep, appetite, and overall happiness and contentment. Too little of it is linked to depression and anxiety.
I went completely off medication at 18 years old after 11 years of being on it. I was in a haze with meds. I never knew who I really was. Everything had just been clouded up for years. Getting off it was one of the most difficult and terrifying things I’ve ever done. It is still the thing I’m most proud of ever doing. No matter how slowly and carefully you do it, there will still be horrors. I was on it for so long. Adjustment took me years, and in some ways, I’m still adjusting.
I got this tattoo to remind myself of the serotonin that can be had without using synthetic chemicals being pumped in my body. The bonds aren’t quite right because my brain’s not quite right. I still struggle and go manic sometimes. But I have finally learned how to accept myself for who I am. I have learned to love myself. Even though life’s a little more overwhelming for me than most, I get through it and I find my own happiness. I find my own version of serotonin.
This June 24th will mark four years anti-depressant sober. Hell yes.
And yes, it’s on my ribcage. And yes, it stung. And actually, it wasn’t as bad as I thought.
You’re on my shoulder every day. Haunting. Sleeping. Burning. Still whispering.
I’m the only one who loved you. I’m the only one who was your biggest fan.
You nip and talk and run in circles.
You want someone who will love you less. I want someone who will love me more. Love doesn’t mean a fucking thing.
It just hurts.
You hurt. You bite. I bruise easily. Nurses don’t help.
Coyotes on soda bottles and coyotes on bookends and dead coyotes and coyotes in Shakespeare classes.
Write. Bleed. Learn. Teach. Create.
One year. Two years. April first.
Because nothing fucking matters.
Because everything matters.
Will you burn me?
I want your fire.
I want to burn.
Smother me push me pull me burn me to the ground.
I want your hands to melt me.
I want your kiss to choke me.
I want your eyes to light me like a cigarette.
I want to get lost.
I want to forget about my hollow cold bones, just for a little while.
Serenade- The Naked and Famous
I literally just sat through this video laughing uncontrollably. Granted, I’m currently drinking a rather large cup of wine.
I love this band. Cootie catchers. What in the hell.
The first of April. April first. April Fool’s day. I knew it would come eventually. I actually forgot completely until last night. I don’t know how.
Happy fucking anniversary, darling.
Nothing works.
April fools. Joke’s on me.
How fucking hilarious.