July 2011
68 posts
Ballerina by Leona Ness
My eyes were fixated on the road, when all I wanted to do was float up high into the atmosphere and forget about everything remaining on the ground.
“My love meter is low.”
– said by Ula, my best friends 7 year old sister
your brown eyes.
Success is not measured in the money you make or the job that you take. It is measured in the connections you have and what you decide to fill your life with. That is where the true value is.
“Why didn’t I learn to treat everything
like it was the last time. My...”
– Jonathan Safran Foer (Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close)
My eyes suddenly felt empty looking at you. Feeling less and less with each word. It was as if someone was tearing away at you and I, an us. Ripping sections of us off, piece by piece. And I sat there with absolutely no control over our pieces.
Life is composed of a series of choices. Ones that you make based on what you want, what you believe, what you feel. Every emotion you have, every impulse, every desire; you choose. There are no excuses, just choices that you’ve made and the ones that you didn’t make.
We had something really beautiful.
2 tags
Open. Unfasten yourself. Tell me your somethings, your anythings, your everythings. Let me listen to your words, your run-on sentences; soak them in—feel them. Peel your layers back, one at a time if you wish. Show me (Please show me.) Look at me, straight into my eyes and let me see into yours, truly see into them. I will not close my eyes, I will not blink. I will not take a step back. Let...
I looked over to the sky, the sun was falling in a way that made my skin crawl.
And I thought of you.
To think of the moments that I walked your way with no intention of actually walking your way. The days where our footsteps left trails on the same sidewalks, parallel to one another. Those are the moments that I hold onto, knowing that lines crossed and we took those lines and did something with them.
And today is a Niptuck marathon. I have so much catching up to do.
“One day, in retrospect, the years
of struggle will strike you as
the most...”
– Sigmund Freud
2 tags
He strove to extract the moon Which took up residence so brightly In the globes of her eyes Perhaps she was looking for the earth And her weariness made her suffer But all was for naught, for it came quick A gust of creationism into the quiet air Scattering flares of the bloodiest red The aqueous blues, the purest whites Arboreal greens, flowing golds A spectacle to astound the blind A twist of...
If you never let yourself feel the rush, you’ll never know how it feels to be swept away in it.
Having a Dexter Marathon with a PB & J sandwich. Best Idea Ever.
2 tags
Having once been the two makers of one love, they were both sitting in air too thick to see through clearly. There was something unsaid sitting on their lips, something hidden; a secret; a knowing. They were chosen without a choice of their own. The were two pieces of one idea.
Heavy brown eyes.
The Call by Regina Spektor
tinmanbrainfarm asked: I love that picture of you on page 3 in which you're adorned w/ the burgundy patterned scarf. Also I like your prose. *tips hat*
1 tag
E: I got so drunk that i convinced myself that someone stole my wallet. Called citibank from a bathroom stall in Prague and somehow cancelled my entire families credit cards.
T: HAHAHA WHAT.
E: Yup. My mom is going to kill me. No one stole my wallet, it was at the hotel.
2 tags
She bit her lip because it tasted like honey. And the sun fell down onto her shoulders, small and frail. Lifting her face up to the sky, she could hear his humming. Having always wished his limbs closer, she smiled at him sweetly. And she bit his lip because it tasted like honey.
1 tag
Just got my parking permit for MSU. I’m such a nerd because I’m so excited…about a parking permit.
Allergies are currently taking over my life. Where did they come from? I’ve never had any allergies.
2 tags
My fingers pierced nervously into the side of my leg. I sat there, in the low lights of a small room with you across from me. My abdomen was in knots and my eyes remained fixated on you, observing curiously; wondering (hoping). When had it gotten so easy and when had it gotten so hard, and when exactly had the two of those thoughts made any sense co-existing? Questions were flooding; drowning,...
Drinking black tea out of an antique little teacup while at work. As much as I love tea and working in this little bookshop, I’d much rather be outside enjoying the beautiful weather.
I’m cashing in all my chips on you.
I think that I used to allow myself to get wrapped up around thoughts too quickly and too tightly. I used to soak in them to the point that they would saturate my head and completely take over. I’ve gotten so far past that. I think lightly and act with a full heart, and I think that’s all anyone can really ask for.
My eyelids are so heavy. I’m ready for today to be a good day.
People need to start using their blinkers before I blow up their cars.
I hate the days when you know you had the most intense dream the night before. And you feel it right on the tip of your tongue, on the edge of your thoughts, and yet you can’t seem to remember a single moment of it.
My Dearest Rebecca, I love you and am thinking of you and your family. You’re a strong and beautiful little lady and I know you can hold your chin up.
marcellefever-deactivated201111 asked: I never realized it before, but you are a phenomenal writer, Tracy.
I’m currently registering for classes for next semester. I’m so incredibly excited and ready for books and folders and papers.
“I just think you embody a positive, strong energy.”
– C. J.
2 tags
My body was aching, the heat crawling across my bare limbs as the white noise of a fan bounced off of the walls in your room. Your eyes were closed. It was 3:30 in the morning and too many thoughts poured into my head. One, Two, Three; Ten. Your eyes were closed, but I tried to catch them nonetheless. My skin was glowing in the dim morning light and I moved restlessly on my half of the bed,...
Fear is such a silly little man; with so much power in just four letters.
It’s stange how the more you tried to make of yourself, the less I saw in you. The world is such a funny little place.
I have always wanted it to be us. From the very moment we locked eyes from afar. I didn’t even know your name then. Your arm linked to one foreign to mine. I look back on that moment every now and then, thinking how strange it was that we knew something that we didn’t actually know. How is that even possible?
