February 2012
41 posts
i miss you.
who ‘you’ is is irrelevant. there are multiple people and feelings and moments that i miss as much as i might long for it, the ‘you’ i’m missing is dead. non existant. time has molded ‘you’ into something else that may or may not miss me.
i worry that my goals are unreasonably high. simultaneously i worry that i don’t strive for more...
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my dinner from a few days ago and the music...
bitching/whatever
so a few weeks ago i was in a friend of mine’s room and somehow the subject of motor boating a girl came up. this leads to them questioning whether i’ve received one. i’m not usually open about my sex life at all and didn’t want to answer the question. i didn’t really feel like elaborating on how i felt they were invading my privacy, so i just shrugged my shoulders...
stripedsweater:
collect dust with me. we’ll decompose together and celebrate our ephemeral existence.
at a loss
i sent her a text message today. that’s the only way i can reach her these days
she didn’t answer. i knew she wouldn’t. i realize the futility in this; people inevitably pass in and out of life. most won’t stick.
but the way i envision my close relationships is like growing a connecting limb between the souls, and the process of taking a chainsaw and severing that so...
epiphany
in college nobody cares if you jump on the bed at midnight YESSS
breasts
they are really cool unless you actually have them.
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“dead girls don’t cry.”
had the most beautiful dream
was sitting in a french restaurant with some people that i was vaguely acquainted with; they had blank faces and the place was poorly lit. You had to speak french at the restaurant, and my skills were rusty at best, so the waiter was pretty disgusted with me for being such a foolish American. The people I was with were chattering in heavy accents, and I decided to excuse myself. I ended up getting...
ccd
adult: tell us who you want us to pray for this week.
student: my friend. we went to the grand canyon and he fell off the edge on top of my uncle, who fell off of the grand canyon the week before.
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peacefully falling asleep in the arms of my...
when suddenly i realize that week 10 starts on Monday, and it’s Sunday morning. and then it’s finals week and you flail and scream and then the bar falls off of your bed and crashes to the floor below. i find this fitting because all of my hopes and dreams for the next week and a half have also crashed to the floor.
when you boil down any relationship, it’s about using the other person. parents have kids to make themselves live forever, pass on genes. live out the dreams they couldnt fulfill. we get into relationships with people not to feel alone. to release frustrations and receive attention, sexually or emotionally. friendships are based off of having someone to hear you speak. to build self...
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SPEAKERBOXXX!!!!! THE LOVE BELOW!!!!! AW HELL NO!
Waiting by the mailbox, by the train ...
fapitalism:
i am fearful.
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the moment when you’re rounding a corner and catch a glance at the two deaf guys having a conversation and gesturing at your ass, but you don’t understand much sign so you can’t be 100% sure that they are talking about you
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week 8 anxiety
this is just a rant and i need to vent and yeah. disregard.
i worry that i’m focusing too much on the people at school that will probably forget about me by next year. i have this unshakable feeling that people around here view me as stupid or at least kind of strange. and i don’t mean in the quirky, cute way, i mean in the “why does she talk” way. Erin (my roommate) and I...
6 tags
so gorgeous
i don't care who you are
don’t tell me you love me if you don’t mean it if you aren’t willing to accept that i am a human that makes mistakes and has emotion just don’t it’s the worst lie you can tell.
“i love life…yeah, i’m sad. but at the same time i’m really...”
– butters, south park
i have never been more heartbroken in my entire life than i am right now at this very moment.
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written in srvy; w.art & architecture
He sits in the muggy, curtained room. The sun shines outside the window, but he intentionally blocks it out. He is in his boxer shorts, accompanied with a white t shirt that’s turned grey from being worn over the years. His stomach bulges slightly out of the waistband and he cannot recall the last time he brushed his hair. A half eaten slice of pizza sits by his side, his only companion....
upon receiving his first camera, Bill Cunningham was told: “Here. Use this the way someone might use a pen.”
this has been stuck in my head. I want to be a poet really, but replace the words with images.
January 2012
61 posts
7 tags
hunger games
i hate to break it to you but you aren’t an original idea Battle Royale was written like 10 years before you and, although I haven’t read you admittedly, is almost definitely a better read
BYE
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when I was young(er) I lacked confidence.
I was reserved and thought too much and liked watching discovery health while playing pokemon which is all fine and dandy as a 19 year old but when you’re 11-13 years old and society expects you to be start becoming womanly and be interested in mtv and what shade of lipgloss to wear.
anyway it was also at this age when i started to think about...
requiem for a dream
should’ve just been named “why not to do drugs ever”
but the soundtrack is wonderful