December 2011
35 posts
Making the yellow light.
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He looked at me in a specific way; the way someone looks at a new book. Hopeful, inspired; almost loving. I choked back my words and couldn’t stop staring at his lips. I felt bare. I was bare.
November 2011
68 posts
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I’m so sorry little opossum family, I killed your Momma last night.
Smiling a little more, laughing a little louder and breathing a little heavier. Maybe a lot heavier.
3 Rounds and a Sound by Blind Pilot
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The city skyline was glowing as we crossed the water; the ferry sloshing, as if it was a very full martini in a very unsteady hand. My nose felt the crisp air strike it as we moved forward. Everyone was talking, whispering, loudly ranting about their previous night. My brother sat there laughing a childish type of laugh, he always did. The crowd filled everyone’s eyes, but the sunset filled...
Like a feather bringing kingdoms to their knees.
Life is so funny, but in the most beautiful way, as of lately.
Anonymous asked: Beautiful on the outside is lovely (and you are) but you're stunning on the inside as well. I'm certain of it. Have a wonderful day!
The hands of a lover with the heart of a killer.
Anonymous asked: What are your favorite beauty products? Face wash, mascara, blush, etc.
I don’t think you’re romantic, I just think you’re lost.
Anonymous asked: I think you're beautiful, but watch your hands when you model. They have a tendency to either look awkward or too posed. Relax. Let the energy flow naturally.
Who finished their Christmas shopping all within the past 48 hours? This guy.
Spending time with my Mom has got to be one of the most fun ways to spend my time. I was at her house this weekend. She’s wonderful.
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When did the tide start to come up so far?
My lungs filled to the brim.
But I stood far away; some distant idea.
He remained a distant idea. (But why? And how?) And what is this mess of words in the back of my throat?
Get out of my head. Get out of my head. Get out of my head. You have somewhere else to be.
All I want is to find someone who thinks I feel good in their arms.
He was night and day and I only came outside at dusk.
And may the new tattoo craving commence.
This is a story about letting go, giving up, giving in. So far it’s been 22 years in the making.
“You don’t need water to feel like you’re drowning, do you?”
– Jodi Picoult, Nineteen Minutes
I swam in too far, to the point that the shore wasn’t even an option for me. But as long as the sky still hangs over my head, I know I’ll find somewhere to place my feet.
Justifications are funny.
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I really have the most wonderful best friend who calls me to make sure i’m okay, tells me she loves me and leaves her phone on the highest volume for if I have to call her in the middle of the night. How did I become so fortunate?
Well, I tried. At least I can say I tried.
Things can be easy. I promise all of you that things can be easier than you make them. I feel like the human race just likes to make things more difficult because if things are more difficult and they still succeed in it, they feel more accomplished. But what is the point, let things be easy like they can be. You will still accomplish just as much.
Her cry for help was merely just a cry.
melyancholy:
The corner of my shower is the best place to sit during those times when my head gets to be too much.
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You; drifting into my mind, slowly; —a heavy fog. Where did you come from? I’ve been a light shade of blue, but you’ve turned me yellow. Pulled to you, slowly; —a heavy silence. Subtle and grey, you hold my gaze. For a second. For a moment. For awhile. Craving: You; craving. Who are you and what is your place? Craving: words upon words; yours. —but why? Tell me....
Anonymous asked: So fucking ugly.
“Songs are as sad as the listener.”
– Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
The past few months have been the best, really. It’s interesting how life can go in the direction of your choosing if you just take a big breath and walk that way. I’m so thankful for who is in my life and what is in my life. Finally.
It starts out like a season in reverse.
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I once owned the angriest hands. Ones that held onto the fears of losing everything that pierced into my life. I once had the most subtle of hearts, disquieted towards any thought of any imperishability holding still; silent and weary. But my hands are kind and my heart is loud. And there’s a fire in my eyes towards you; you’re holding my bones together.
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What I have learned so far this semester:
The worst drivers live in New Jersey.
Friendship will outlast almost anything if it’s real friendship.
Being an English major is not only a good idea in theory but also in practice.
I’m really good at writing a decent 5 page paper in an hour.
There is always time for tea.
Sleep is your best friend.
Oh, and I’m actually really good...
I keep hearing people walking in my house when I’m the only one home. I’m clearly watching too much “American Horror Story”. I just can’t stop.
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“He pulled away, but his eyes held my eyes like hands.”
– Miranda July, No One Belongs Here More Than You 