December 2009
My Top 5 Artists (Week Ending 2009-12-27) →
4 47
Ola Podrida, an unsnapped duvet cover, self-imposed third night sleeping on a couch. The sky is brighter than it should be. Some sort of murky yellow-grey, wonder if I’ve seen that colour anywhere else; I underestimated the height of these pine trees. Standing tall, jagged black monuments in the distance. A mountain and a lamplit balcony. There is always a glow beyond the hill - hidden...
And I do need the wind across my pale face
And I do need the fern to unfurl in the spring
and I do need the grass to sway
yes I do need to know my place
but all I want is your eyes
in the morning as we wake
for a short while
natalieenne:
“because the odds of you finding your “soul-mate” in your hometown in a world of billions are pretty fucking slim. because gay people and black people and immigrants and addicts and cab drivers and juggalos aren’t assholes. PEOPLE are assholes. and the only way you learn to undo all of the bullshit and prejudices and stereotypes people have put in your head is by experiencing more...
Kissing the beehive
I wish I could believe in who you are
you held your cock in the air and you called it a guitar
you put your face on the glass and you called it good cinema oh
as if you didn’t know that it would sting
I wish it wasn’t so hard for me to actually talk about my feelings for people, out loud. I almost feel like I am not allowed to feel the way I do. My brother asked me tonight if I was interested in anybody and I immediately froze up. I need to work on this.
Careful now, you'll hurt yourself.
Careful now, you’ll hurt, you’ll hurt someone else.
This bus just won’t go far enough so I’ll strap myself to a homemade bomb and blow the bus stop through the parking lot - we’ll celebrate like we were free.
Whirling
Black and white horror movies. Too much or not enough or way too much. Aching limbs, aching aching aching. The first time I met you and your ridiculous plaid shorts. Stuttering. You float in and out of my thoughts at random. It’s like any other thought but most of them don’t make me feel sad and inadequate. Dreaming of changes and the day I will be good enough. Feels petty and naive...
People who call other people ugly have seriously...
Really. Get real. Even if you are just watching Spartacus.
The year ends in five days. I can feel the time blowing through my hair; it is a wind in my ears and it is starting to frighten me. Things move too fast and I need to pull my fingernails from the clay and let the current take me.
2009 was the year of the topsy turvy. A bad job, the deaths of a best friend and a near-family-member, drugs and too much beer. I feel like nothing was accomplished. I...
“So, I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we’ll never know...”
– The Perks of Being a Wallflower (via heartonahook) (via awakeandunafraid) (via atmosfears) (via dilaudid)
Green Christmas
Fog. Ice on the driveway reminds me it is, in fact, winter. Rum and egg nog with people who will soon be joining my family. A blue-eyed boy about whom I’ve been misinformed. A fluffy cat. I like getting things that I love - “do you like it more than as a friend?”. Can I move through you? It’s still above zero. I would like to say I don’t miss Christmas in Moose Jaw...
“I’m not here to save anyone; those days are over. As a friend told me recently,...”
– Alan (via jeninla) (via tikilights) (via thoughtsonasunday)
2 59
Thumbprints on my glasses. First attempt at an update from a handheld device; technology is perpetually astounding me. I think of the time right after dad died when you said, “don’t say he passed away; he didn’t go anywhere. He died. He is dead.” crying over a game of cribbage, stunned silence in the back of the Yukon. I can’t stop picking at my skin. My demons are...
A laundry list of problems doesn't make you...
(via natalieenne)
I hate people
taleeroe:
but I fall in love with everyone, damn it
you're urged to call this number, now
3:09 in the morning. A sudden urge to assist in cleanup of an oil spill; Dawn dishsoap, greasy otters. Too much (not enough) cider. Ham and spinach, a duvet that smells like the inside of a cedar chest. A need to create, to speak, to reach out. Reruns of Wind at my Back, alone in the living room of a vacation home. Anxious for the return of my roommates: hair gel and Chanel cologne, a red coat,...
