when i told my parents i wanted to decide which college im going to based on the people and the experiences i would have there, they got the completely wrong idea….
they literally thought that i just wanted to go to a place where i can party and have sex and get pregnant and sniff coke and get wasted night and day, and just have myself a damn good time without ever touching a book.
sometimes, i don’t know how to explain to them that im really not the person they think i am. im not that person at all.
god, how did their perception of me get so fucked up?
“I left my heart in San Francisco.
I left my viscera in the Netherlands.
I left my liver on the 42 line, headed
from Farragut Square to the White House.
I left my occipital lobe in Reno.
I left my corneas in Tangier.
I left one foot in a courthouse,
and one in a traveling circus. I had hoped
to find you, Isis, before the fish swam
between my legs and swallowed,
but now I navigate the Seine,
sharing a scaled belly with the ashes
of Joan of Arc. So I left my pride in Paris.
I left a vertebra in Venice. On Murano,
my clavicle became the mouth of a bowl.
I left my mouth on Mount Everest,
holding every apology I had meant to offer
and while they chattered in sad fury,
I sowed my teeth in an arctic field.
Now there is little left of me: Fingers
with nothing to tickle. Hands with nothing
to grasp. The small bones of my ears
do their xylophone dance while the small
cusps of my wrist bones pretend to be
ears. Every king, in the end, is his only
audience. Every queen picks up the pieces.
Isis, every fish in that river is a child
of mine. You are my net. Hold me.”—“Osiris Speaks,” Sandra Beasley (via clavicola)
god damn, where are all the people they show you in the books and movies? the kind of people who are committed to your well being because they care about you so fucking much. the kind of people who will notice it when you are slowly drifting into a darker place and will try and reel you back into the world of sunshine and good things. the kind of people who are willing to do anything in order to make you love yourself again. where the hell are they?
fuck, im so alone. i will always be alone. i guess today is the day that i swallow this fact and let it live inside of me forever. i will never be able to escape this loneliness, no matter how hard i try. i must let it settle in my gut, that is its home.
“After you’ve surrendered to pillows
and I, that second whiskey,
on the way to bed I trace my fingers
over a thermostat we dare not turn up.
You have stolen what we call the green thing—
too thick to be a blanket, too soft to be a rug—
turned away, mid-dream. Yet your legs
still reach for my legs, folding them quick
to your accumulated heat.
only a word can earn overtime. Economy: once a net, now a handful of holes. Economy: what a man moves with
when, even in sleep, he is trying to save
all there is left to save.”—“Economy,” Sandra Beasley (via clavicola)
my parents know nothing about me and its the saddest thing in the world because they always accuse me of thinking and wanting stupid things and they say it with such conviction but they have absolutely no idea what they’re talking about.
the phrase “she’s such a strong bad ass character!”
shut up. shut up.
shut. the. fuck. up.
who decided that what we all want the most is a “strong” female character? maybe i want a weak woman character. maybe i do. because oh, there are weak fucking women. there really are. and i think their stories are good stories too. and worth knowing.
i speak of “weak” in a critical holistic human way. not hollywood sexist adorkable way.
i am so tired of bad asses. i’m not a bad ass. i never will be a bad ass. i’m not particularly strong. the women i know who i count as incredibly strong? they spend half their lives like i do, their asses whupped by depression and chronic illness and barely able to get out of bed.
“ardent, adj. It was after sex, when there was still heat and mostly breathing, when there was still touch and mostly thought… it was as if the whole world could be reduced to the sound of a single string being played, and the only thing this sound could make me think of was you. Sometimes desire is air; sometimes desire is liquid. And every now and then, when everything else is air and liquid, desire solidifies, and the body is the magnet that draws its weight.”—David Levithan, The Lover’s Dictionary (via fleurishes)
“Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody’s around - nobody big, I mean - except me. And I’m standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff - I mean if they’re running and they don’t look where they’re going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That’s all I do all day. I’d just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it’s crazy, but that’s the only thing I’d really like to be.”—J.D. Salinger (The Catcher in the Rye)