Another wishing it was a different day. Another trudge from point A to point B with stops at Where the Hell Am I Going? Today, I’m just trying to make it to Friday night, this one, and the one two weeks from this one. I feel like I spend my whole school year longing for Friday nights.
I Know I Care About Someone When I Think That I'd...
Sometimes I worry about how lustful and sexually-minded I am, but then I masturbate and the feeling goes away. It’s a good system, I think.
So Much To Say
Nowhere to say it. I just want to feel sexy, remember what being looked at feels like. What being wanted feels like. It’d be nice, alright? And that’s all I’ll say.
Things will be better then. Hell, things will be better this time tomorrow, when school is over for the week and I’m on my way to Granny’s house, but things will be infinitely better on Friday. Am I silly for considering driving to Virginia Beach tomorrow? I just want things to feel better right now. Right, right now.
empty-aisles: My current sexual frustration is through the roof.
We did E once ‘Cause booze wasn’t cuttin it We always did the same thing: Tumble our lips onto each other Say I love you with saliva clinging Rock Paper Scissor who’s on top And with every contraction, I love you, love, I love you, love It grows expected And we were too young for that Every beer bottle said I love you Every shot glass the same, And we just wanted to know What E would make us say...
I’ve always liked the time before dawn because there’s no one around to remind...– Brian Andreas. And sometimes I’m sad, that’s who I am: Sad. A lot of Sad some mornings.
Late Night Rambling
I have held my own hands For so long That I’m beginning to think I’ve lost all ability to unfurl My love is late night whimpering The shade of a pillow on a wall What does my shadow say, That sits so quietly around me The opposite side of you That gives my quietness shape And depth And with every love it gets deeper It is also sweat congealing When it gets tacky to touch Salty to taste When we...
Some mornings I don’t know what I need to do more: shit in the toilet or puke in it. I just pray I don’t do both at the same time.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Joel: Yeah, Tangerine?
Clementine: Am I ugly? When I was a kid I thought I was. I can't believe I'm crying already. Sometimes I think people don't understand how lonely it is to be a kid. Like you don't matter. So, I'm eight, and I have these toys, these dolls. My favorite is this ugly girl doll who I call Clementine. And I keep yelling at her, "You can't be ugly. Be pretty!" It's weird, like if I could transform her, I could magically change, too.
Joel: You're pretty.
Clementine: Joely, don't ever leave me.
Joel: You're pretty. Pretty. Pretty. You're pretty.
My room is freaking cold. I miss him even more when I’m cold, like it only amplifies the aloneness. I am a stupid, hormonal girl, but that doesn’t necessarily make me feel my emotions any less, even when they’re stupid and hormone-driven. I think too much, about things that don’t need thinking about, ‘cause everything is and will be fine, but it is my way, to worry...
I am about to inflict something unholy and frightening upon my body. I hope I make it to the other side unscathed. This is when I really wish I didn’t live in a dorm, with shared bathrooms and all.
it’s cuddle weather– everything that has a vagina (via coagulates)