March 2011
When left to my own devices
my mind turns to dark things.
and i don’t like the sound it makes when
the voices get louder
and angrier
and old feelings come back
because i relive the past much more lucidly than I should
and nostalgia is overwhelming
and every mistake I’ve made is over analyzed
and every action I do is thought of as a mistake
and I’m never good enough (in my own head)
Like right now,...
IT'S EXPLOSION WEDNESDAY
craigbenzine:
I can't go to bed without your kiss goodnight.
But your phone is dead :P
6th period
Dennis: (laying down) Hey Erin! Why's six afraid of seven!?
Me: Ummm, because Seven Eight Nine?
Dennis: No! Seven is a Six Offender! GET IT?!
It's a little awkward when you reblog someone's...
Ya know, no big deal. I just met Wheezy Waiter, zall.
FUCKING AMAZING. monday night got interesting…
sexandviolenceareheretostay:
My mood right now…
mylifeinbullshit:
I’m gonna be using this gif a lot ;)
mylifeinbullshit:
“Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, ‘The night is...”
– Tonight I Can Write (The Saddest Lines) by Pablo Neruda, 1904-1973
Truth is, I get jealous easily because whats mine...
“Sudden Inopportune Poetic Inspiration”
1 tag
We'll call this a work in progress.
People fear the forgotten
Or, in fact, being forgotten
I too have felt that wave of nausea that comes with the thought that
I will disappear. Gone for a moment, silent, I would not be there
And if they did not see me then I would cease to be
But then I overcame this feeling and saw the intrigue of disappearing
Like a child trying to get over their fear of the dark
I flicked the light...
1 tag
This is what happens when I spit without thinking
Trying to keep tangent, but I’m hopping from triangle to triangle.
My head is on backwards and I’m trying to split myself
atomically, causing extreme adverse effects to the vocabulary
that I have built myself upon, shaking the semantic infrastructure and
causing a cave in. Propositioning poetry as therapy to the natural disaster that is
my brain. Tell me what to think, because I...
i hate when you forget your own words
they’re a bitch to a remember
Home is Where the Heart Is.
That means I’m on the wrong intersection.
I gave blood today
It’s probably my favorite hobby.
I hate having to wait 56 days to be able to donate another pint. Especially since the blood they collect at one drive is used in about 2 weeks tops.
And honestly, the sensation feels pretty interesting too.
I enjoy it.
I understand that not everyone is like me. I spent my entire day after donating, volunteering. Several kids turn this queasy pale greenish...
I have to buy a box with a lock on it
Because my sister keeps stealing my things.
My sister breaks things.
My sister doesn’t understand that the more you steal, the angrier I’ll be.
But if you ask, I’ll more likely than not say yes.
Unless that object means something to me. Unless I know you’ll be careless with it. Then I will not risk that.
But the more you keep taking, the more I’ll lose trust in...
On sunday I have to find tears
Just find them. Put them on like an old sweater.
Have these old tears and then as soon as the camera is switched off, put them away.
Will it be difficult? Perhaps with you there.
One look at you and I’m all smiles. One look and I’m melty.
One glance and I’ll be thinking of the nights in your arms, the waking up to kisses, the feeling of your spine and your bones.
I’ll...
“i have found what you are like the rain
(Who feathers frightened fields
with...”
– ee cummings (via obscureepiphanies)
“Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he...”
– Oscar Wilde (via self-renovation)
I do believe in faeries
i do
i do
i can be the bad guy…
because I’m not a coward.
Even though I am believed to be.
I am free.
Wish I could fly.
Only in my lucid dreams.
