February 2012
but what and who am i even staying strong for? i certainly am not doing this for myself anymore, which is sad, but would anyone even care if i gave up?
1 tag
“I shall not exist if you do not imagine me.”
– Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita
“That’s who you really like. The people you can think out loud in front of.”
– John Green
2 tags
I like girls with legs entwined that provoke my mind with ugly words and harsh eyes but skin that is kind. With plaited white hair, faces that don’t care But scarred souls and full sighs and thoughts that are rare.
1 tag
It’s in the breath you take in at the break the air that whips your face, a small keepsake; You have not drowned, you’re still alive, swimming.
anthrodynia
n. a state of exhaustion with how shitty people can be to each other, typically causing a countervailing sense of affection for things that are sincere but not judgmental, are unabashedly joyful, or just are.
2 tags
maybe i won’t die after all
“They say when you are missing someone that they are probably feeling the same,...”
– Edna St. Vincent Millay
“Loneliness becomes an acid that eats away at you.”
– Haruki Murakami, 1Q84
“Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your...”
– Franz Kafka
it’s starting to happen again and i don’t know what to do. i don’t want to ruin this
“Talk, talk, talk: the utter and heartbreaking stupidity of words.”
– William Faulkner
how do people do it
how do they get out of the bed in the morning and go to work and smile and talk and laugh and have hobbies and friends and families and how do they do this all like it’s nothing at all and i don’t how not being depressed works and what it’s like to not hate yourself and be ashamed of yourself every second of every day and what it’s like to walk in...
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Here, all the girls have small bones, the smallest. A languor of yellow scarves and spelling bees. The day gives things names and we hide them between our thighs, beneath our mother’s mattress. We make nice with the books, with the dishes, with the men behind the blue shed. The ones lurking in the bus-stop woods, crouching near water heaters in dark basements. I can lie clean through my white...
“The sun stopped shining for me is all. The whole story is: I am sad. I am sad...”
– Nina LaCour, “Hold Still”
i really really hope i’ll feel a bit better by the end of this week
i’m so exhausted
why won’t you people just love me
is it dark already? how light is a light? do you...