#kind of a
#but not really
Sometimes I become so suddenly overwhelmed with passion and pain and beauty and love, and hate and anger and longing all at the same time. It grabs me and pulls me under, pushes my head underwater, until I can’t breathe, but I’m forced to open my eyes and it’s like I can finally see. Sometimes I’ll be standing on a balcony, and I’ll hear it calling out to me, it’s telling me to jump. But I just stand there examining the view and looking at the distance from there to here, and I think of all the farthest things I love and the closest things I fear, without a view of at least 180 degrees, I feel crushed, like there’s four walls closing in on me, like though my eyes are open wide, I rip and tear at my eyelids but still, I can’t see. There’s nothing there in front of me. That’s why the window never opened wide enough, and only seconds in I’d had enough, and I’d only feel safe when I could see the lake, and I could touch the vastness the earth could make. My heart is a fire that can’t be put out by the rain. I meant it when I said I feel safest on moving trains.
I don’t think I’ll ever change.
to you everywhere.
you are not here."
|boy:||what u wearin? ;)
|me:||Prada spring/summer 2013 fur coat with daisy appliqué and archive Margiela tabi boots
#goodbye old iphone
RIP old shitty iPhone 5. You were a defective piece of shit but I still love you and you stood by me for a long time. I will miss you and I’ll always remeber you.
A warm welcome to my brand new shitty iPhone. Courtesy of guy at the apple store.
Omg I feel so bad xD My cat has been sitting in front of an open door to my backyard for half an hour, meowing so uncontrollably loud. And I was sitting in the kitchen watching him, being like make up your mind!! Inside or outside!! And it took me that long to realize that the screen door was shut and he couldn’t get out…
I’m sleeping but I’m wide awake,
going back and forth between mistakes,
trying to connect the lines,
between there to here and all that lies,
between the lines of every word,
and all the things still left unheard,
trying just to fill the gaps,
like withered pieces of ancient maps,
hoping I can find you here,
that though I can’t see you doesn’t mean you aren’t still near.
I’ve been busy etching every line,
wrapping myself in a thorn covered vine,
hoping I can get deep enough to see what’s inside,
to discover what secrets the surface may hide.
A shrine to life in all its glory,
the only true side of the story.
“You had horrible things - eye gougings, and terrible stabbings, and people being terrified in their homes. And yet… there were these young women who came to court and were, ‘Richard Ramirez groupies.’ They thought he was ‘cute.’ They thought that he was ‘handsome.’ They were, I suppose, mesmerized by the whole mystique. “