February 2012
28 posts
another hill, another valley, another hill,...
something very bizarre
rule 2, 3, 4, and 7
Watchdamnit
People fall in love sitting in a room alone
It’s always incredibly easy to “fall in love” because people are always feeling incredibly alone. If we all got past this loneliness- this terrible, cold, snow-globe-living, then perhaps we truly could. I found myself crying last night because I wanted everyone to realize this. And just love -pure, not because you feel alone and need someone, but because you have this...
for no one to read
counting lives by how many “homes” i’ve had, because it’s always too blurry to connect to just be one. white flowers that remind me of mom’s dead friend she sometimes mentions. alanis morissette playing in the background. talking of irony. red wagon and brown rocking chair. chalk drawings of the dead end. no hand bike riding down hills. blue wooden flute and a...
He use to play an untuned guitar.
couch tonight because my bed is a long, mile away.
dirty old town
bullshit
My little brother just told me that sometimes, he likes it better on the floor. You know, I don’t know what or why this is, but we think almost the same things exactly a few days apart. I forget he’s only eleven-hasn’t gone through middle school or high school yet, but he just told me that, really, sometimes he likes it better just on the floor. And fuck. Even though I wrote it...
Last night, I found madness between a blanket and my floor while listening to the impossible sound of shivering from the cold of a broken, house furnace and curling next to a small, space heater. A comforting madness. One I could almost lay still to. From the quaking of my own body, brought restless, beautifully untamed, and incomplete thoughts. The kind of thoughts I would not mind whispering if...
The truth is, fuck “being civil.” fuck social norms. fuck sushi. fuck clothing stores. Maybe I’m just an asshole, but I sometimes really like standing on chairs in public, egging cars, yelling obscene things in fast food restaurants, never wearing shoes, only doing my hair on occasions and saying fuck it and not even brushing it most days, painting my face tribal and walking...
Anonymous asked: Is everything no worries?
I took my senior quote from an old, 1975 novel I first read in 8th grade. I read the whole thing in one school day after checking it out of the library. Then took it home, and read it again. I could sit here and write all the reasons why I liked it and still do, and explain the characters, and the plot and the not so plot, and go into detail about the motorcycle boy, but I won’t.
Truth...