- Ralph Waldo Emerson
A thing I do not enjoy about being female is that I am not allowed to mention someone offending me or hurting my feelings without hearing about how omg INSECURE I must be, like being “secure” means not caring about anything anyone says about/to you ever forever permanently or like it has anything to do with anything at all.
uh, i know what i will be doing sometime in november
… but i am more excited for june 14th to come around!!
Phoenix : Drakkar Noir
how i wish i knew you from before, run the avenues until the city unfolds
why would we have to know? do we have to know what truth is?
yess, new album just in time for summer
this summer seems a bit unpredictable, to say the least, but as long as i have my tunes, i guess things will be okay
goals: see phoenix live and wear lots of pretty dresses
COME HOME IM SERIOUSLY MISSING YOU SO BADLY. COME HOME COME HOME
I ALSO LOVE SINGERS CAN I WATCH HIM SING HIS HEART OUT?!
UH OF COURSE, YOU ARE NOW OFFICIALLY MY DATE.
i feel ready to take on this biochem exam
my veterinarian took in a stray cat so my coworker and i can learn how to properly and successfully remove its brain and eyes while still attached to one another in order to get extra credit for my anatomy course. i’m not quite sure if i am supposed to say that publicly, but anyway.
kristina, mariah, and ari, i miss you pretty ladies. KRISTINA, I AM DEFINITELY COMING INTO TOWN BEFORE YOU LEAVE. SO STAY WHERE YOU ARE. can we all have a girl’s night again pls
one of my younger cousins has a secret passion for singing but his parents won’t allow it because it’s “too feminine”. so he pretends he is doing something else every time he stays late after school. even though i am eight hours away, he still texts me to let me know when his performances are, in case i can make it. no one ever goes to his shows, so i am excited to make a surprise visit for his next one.
only twenty eight more days until i move out of this city and i’m never looking back
Love is hard. Love is so hard when you are so connected to someone in such a whole way, where their heart feels like the one that pumps in your chest. The blood which is the saddest of blues and the harshest of crimson courses through making your veins plump with life and everything starts pulsating and thudding. And you know something is too alive inside of you, something is breathing and living on it’s own and it’s not just yours, it’s theirs too. They are half you, the better half of you and you don’t know where you start and where they end. You can feel them under your skin and on some days they are the only thing keeping you upright. But sometimes they don’t know how it feels to cling to something so hard, to cling so hard it should bleed and they’re so silent standing in front of you, frozen because we never asked for things to be this way. It shoots through the heart, a jolt to keep it pumping.
But that’s what it is. We build and build and build, destroy and build again. That’s the way it goes and most times, it’s the way it lasts.