I put on my sunglasses, to hide my swollen eyes, over my tears. I cried all my makeup off. Went inside to have a milkshake. I don’t know why. I wanted something to drink as I figured out what I would do. I got a soda and a milkshake. Medium. The cashier looked at me and with a line around the corner of the counter he rushed away from the counter “Hold on “ he yelled to a coworker.
I filled my soda and went back and saw him looking all over. I go up and he gets close and says “I made it a large”.
That was seriously enough for me not to do it. His kindness. Someone went out of their way and as I went back in my car to cry I realized I could muster through a few other days. A few more weeks. Then I came down from that panicky high of anxiety, depression, and pain. I finished my shake. And it was enough time to let me feel better. I… I’m alive. I’ll make it through.
Try and be nice today. Tomorrow. Something as much as a smile. It helped so much.
Thank you man at McDonalds.
The milkshake saved my life
I hope you all can read this and remember to be kind
The smallest of gestures can save a life. My Mum answered her phone when I called and I am alive today because of that.
I’m glad you’re here.
It’s a phone call, a milkshake, a friend.
I feel like I shouldn’t keep reblogging this but when I do more people see what kindness can do…. I don’t know. Love everyone as yourself.
Nah, keep rebloging it. It gives hope.
walked sobbing around a city once wearing a summer dress in mid-september thunder and rain. basically dragged myself into LUSH as the smell of the store always made me smile. the shop was empty and dead due to the weather, just this blonde short woman behind the counter who smiled at me. i stared at her feet and asked ‘do you have anything for people who are scared a lot?’ (i was so out of it i had no clue). she showed me two bath bombs, one pink and one blue, and said both were good – i chose the pink, paid for it and left. i then sat at a bus stop clutching the LUSH bag in one arm and my prescription meds in the other – i’d lied and ordered a refill so i could just drift away with sleeping pills. when the bus arrived and i was out of the rain, i decided to have another look at my bath bomb, smell it and what not. opened my bag and saw she’d put the blue one in there for me as well and written on the receipt ‘feel better soon 🙂 hope you like x’.
no one had ever been so selflessly kind to me before, i didn’t know what to do with it except hang around long enough to use the other bath bomb.
Actually I’m going to reblog this again because of the truth of the inverse: think of any time you have been casually cruel or petty to someone for humor or because you weren’t in a great mood.
All demons have a vague sense of precognition, so they only take children as payment from people who would become horrible parents.
I was raised in the Demon Orphanage. You look skeptical. And who wouldn’t be? ‘Tis a rare thing to hear, but it’s true.
I know that sounds bad but really, demons are outstanding caretakers. They don’t need sleep or rest. There’s few beings more patient. Infernal magic is eminently useful. My education was continuous and organic. I didn’t so much attend class as I was simply around beings of incredible intelligence and knowledge who taught us as naturally as we breathed.
You wonder if I stayed all my childhood in the orphanage. I didn’t. But some do stay.
I was personally adopted by an archduke of Hell whose specialty was astrophysics. My mother taught ethical philosophy to other demons. My second father was a polymath and inventor.My boyfriend during my teenage years was raised by an astronomer and a tactician.
You seem to think Hell must be a terrible place for a child. Poorly informed as you are by the Roman Catholic Church and it’s many, often wildly ignorant, offshoots.
Hell is orderly and safe. The souls of the damned are endless and their punishment must be efficient. Those who have not earned punishments must not be punished, and are safer there than any other place in the universe. The darkest, most remote wilderness of Hell is safer for me than in the most heavily guarded fortress or vault in the mortal realm.
So why am I here in the mortal realm? Well, I must admit my second father’s curiosity is quite infectious. I wanted to travel and experience other realms. Those who stay in Hell too long eventually become demons themselves, and many do choose that path, but I didn’t. And Earth seemed a fine place to start. Of course, I had to support myself, so I took a commissions job that pays quite nicely.
You shrug, limited curiosity sated. And put bloody pen to parchment. I was also raised in the old traditions.
I promise you won’t regret this.
My eyes are, perhaps, a bit too bright. There are, maybe, too many teeth in my smile. You shrug these impressions off as illusions. I’m a mortal, like you.
Let’s go beat someone up! But no seriously, does this prevent pain or something ? What do these bandages actually serve ?
It keeps your bones aligned to prevent injury, compresses soft tissue to make the fist more rigid, and pads the knuckles. Skull bones are sturdier than hand bones, and even if you know what you’re doing there’s a high risk of damaging your metacarpals if you punch someone barehanded. It’s why they recommend if you find yourself in a fight unprepared to bunt their nose with the butt of your palm, because if the other person tucks their head and you end up hitting their forehead instead it’ll do a lot less damage to your palm than your knuckles.
Tumblr teach’n you how to fucks someone’s shit up.
kazzykatt 