I don't want to be here, figuratively speaking ( Read more... )

I don't have anything left to say because I know that everything's perfect, even when we don't know it.

Even when we can't feel it.

(http://www.meish.org/mayfly/index.php)

Rachel, 2003 in 20 words or less:

Dropped out and sold out. I shut up, fucked up, drank up, sobered up; repeated in Birmingham, NOLA, Memphis.

Postcards ( Read more... )

I have a tendency to blow things, and we all know this. Opportunities abound and I shoot them down. From the mundane attractive-stranger's-flirtation encounters to the more splendid unbelievable-job-opportunities and et cetera ( Read more... )

I like Cornbread and milk, Breathtaking lingerie, sleeping nude when it's cold out, seeing things I've never seen before, sleeping nude when it's hot out, going places I've never been before, flirting, pretending I'm artistic, Peanut butter and graham crackers, my Dogs, pretending I'm a talented writer, and drinking coffee.

And being in love.

I ( Read more... )

Is it true then? Is love supposed to always be easy? I can't imagine that love isn't supposed to be something that requires sacrifice and work and compromise. I can't imagine that perfect circumstances cultivate strong relationships that stay strong through adversity.

I can't imagine that, and I think that it's bullshit.

I want to be inspired. I want to be beautiful. I want to put all of my eggs in one basket and count them before they hatch. I want to grow guts. I want to realize that life is a mountain so big that I will never stop climbing it.

Ever.

And I realized what love must be, today. And it made me patient.

I'm ok. Everything's fine ( Read more... )

Floating like the blemish on your face with ( Read more... )