February 2012
66 posts
“Beauty is nothing, beauty won’t stay. You don’t know how lucky you are to be...”
– Charles Bukowski (via soulstereo)
Well
I ate nachos with you in a god-awful mexican dive and it was the first real meal I’ve ate in 6 months and nothing bad happened
so there’s that
I’m not sad
I’m just trying to thrive in a festering cesspool of horrible people
Yeah it’s Valentine’s Day, and that’s cool because for some reason I’m fortunate enough have someone handsome who understands my constant dependence on caffeine and shares my love of burrito places.
Ghazal: Glass
My unfinished shit from class doesn’t belong on my blog, but here it is anyway.
The old heat heavy, now more than sun breaks through window glass In the basement, boys in green hats fill new glass. The bare earth roads lined lush with fresh futures under June rain, become mud, splash filthy on thick glass. That urge to burn one’s life instead of breathe it makes collars smell musty under...
Late night thoughts I’ll regret:
You had your chance with someone that’s a much better fit for you than I am, yet you didn’t pursue this person—you chose to be with me instead. Your very capacity for admiration of someone like me (particularly in favor of the superior option) lessens my attraction to you.
I don’t want to date anyone who would date me.
This all...
My entire life is complaining about how much of an awkward misfit I am and sitting in my room listening to the muffs and the descendents and thinking about the past or the future.
“I am lonely, yet not everybody will do. I don’t know why, some people fill the...”
– Anaïs Nin (via heavydrug)
Everyone is so poignant and endearing and I am so basic and trite in all that I am and I can’t stand it. Always making marks on my body, burning off the shell around me, dying the dead cells on my head a different color, playing dress up and trying to make myself someone else.
scientist: the average person spends 18 hours online per week.
me: you mean per day
scientist: what
me: what
I could almost guarantee no one cares to hear what I’m about to whine about, but I am on the fringes of a total, complete, unabashedly grandiose nervous breakdown. An emotional collapse over feeling like things I can’t bear to think about have happened, are happening, and will continue to happen. I want to declare to the world that it wins—cry until my head aches and I can feel...
I should probably stop acting like the decision of what I should do with my life (in terms of becoming some sort of an arguably productive, working citizen) is comparable to deciding what I should eat for lunch. I should also probably stop being so fickle. I should probably stop being many things.
Writer! Art! No, psychology. Well, what would you do with that? Well, some people tell me I’m...
