My schedule for the next thirteen weeks goes something like; work, university, work, study, university, work, university, study, work and more university. All of my day light hours are taken up and most of my night hours are too, that’s not including sleep. But I am, well, I’m not scared, or not looking forward to it. It’s more ‘yea, alright, I can totally get out of this on the positive.’ But I’ll probably start to bitch about having no time because I like to whinge about things that aren’t really worth complaining about. Ya know, trivial crap that I totally just say just because I don’t like smiles or happiness. And I’m a whiny baby.
I’m ashamed of myself because I know I should be better and I have no idea how to get there.
— I Don’t Know Where to Go From Here (#370: April 7, 2014 (via massiv3
The reason why cat ladies buy cats is the same reason I buy plants…
Someone feeling wronged is like someone feeling thirsty. Don’t tell them they aren’t. Sit with them and have a drink.
There is no shame in being hungry for another person
He loved a girl once; for no particular reason, just a lot of little ones thrown together. Isn’t that what love is, anyway? The sum of a million intangibles that all come together in just the right way at just the right time? Like conception. Or the universe. He loved her before he met her, which isn’t as romantic as it sounds, because for some people, loving at a distance comes naturally. And then they did meet, and when she smiled at him through the shimmering air he felt it in his belly. He took her home with him - they didn’t discuss it, it just became their presumed destination - and the sex was sex: exciting, intimate, and awkward. These things take time. But afterward, after they had dispensed with it like a formality, they lay in bed speaking in low voices, confessing any sins that came to mind, absolving each other the way only near strangers can. Then it was morning, and she was dressing to leave and he kissed her good-bye, he was overwhelmed by the notion that they were, in fact, still strangers to each other, and he couldn’t for the life of him see how to get from there to somewhere else. The whole notion of building a relationship from scratch seemed like a vast and complex enterprise, the thought was instantly exhausting. And yet…
It seemed equally possible that he might love her forever or might never see her again, but that energy was incontrovertibly proof, long overdue, that there was still some juice in that creaky, battered heart of his.
The Minarets | Mammoth Lakes, California - by: [elmofoto]
tumblr | instagram | 500px |
You happened to me.
You were as deep down as I’ve ever been.
You were inside me like my pulse.
I think I might always be in some kind of love with you.
I hate what you make me feel,
but I will never hate you.
— Things I Never Got To Tell You, Part 17
Girls don’t want boys, girls want high-speed internet and dragons
She survived whatever happened;
she forgave; she became.
— W.H. Auden, The Model (excerpt)
You can actually feel it.
You can actually tell and feel when you’re starting to fade away from someone. The conversations get shorter, they get less meaningful, less exciting. You can feel the wall that’s coming up between you two. And then in the end, you’re back to being strangers.