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why am i like this. my impulses never brought me anywhere good, and yet i sitll think to rely on them. stupid, stupid, stupid.
i'm writing on my fucking livejournal, hahahaha. -
what would it look like if you could start to embody home within yourself?
a mermaid, i can see it -- you were, i can ( Read more... ) -
the questions i have about my rape, at 28 years old:
- why did it take me so long to realize?
- does he know?
- does his brother?
- will it ever make sense to explain it to him?
- will i ever stop resenting his former/current friends?
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i wish i could do it all over, i do. but there is nothing I know
except a lifetime's one moment
and wishing will just leave you empty
i feel so small, still so small. how could things go so fast, how could so much happen? when will it start to feel like real life.
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when people get sick for their youth i wonder what for and whether the catastrophe of mine would be as addicting to people who aren't me. the best things about being young is constantly questioning whether you're pushing the limit, balancing the line between fun and getting caught, knowing you were fucking things up and loving them all the more for ( Read more... ) -
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in short i will repeat myself: you don't know who i am. you write a narrative in which you're the pure and tragic lead, and i'm the lost and struggling climax through which you display your deeds of psuedo romance. you are projecting, you're projecting, and if you bothered to consider me you'd see i'm more than just a screen ( Read more... ) -
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fodder for my writing but cyanide to peace, why once more after 8 months i thought for sure we had a point of mutual understanding. (i can't help but hold a grudge: the audacity, my wedding night, who do you think you are ( Read more... ) -
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it's hard to come back, it's always been. the admission that you're here again. you are here again. you're here, again ( Read more... ) -
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if given the chance, i don’t know what i’d do differently. there are reasons we ended up here, and they have nothing to do with the bushwick studio or the uninsulated twoflat or anything in between.
lately my people are dots on a map. indiana, georgia, californ-i-a. miles that may as well be lightyears when you’re alone in your room poking holes in ( Read more... ) -
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i don't know where you are today.
i know where you are - cutesy little westchester ( Read more... )