it actually just started snowing outside my window so i think i’m going to go cry/stick my face in a bowl of soup instead. but yes, i do love the time of year you are describing when it actually occurs
I don’t want to write my essay, so here’s some Charles Bukowski poems.
What I want most is to have been a girl with you and played on the opposite team so I could have liked you and competed against you at the same time.
unfortunately there is no other way to look attractive in a homosexy way than to wear massive jeans and a lip ring. MASSIVE, okay? make sure they’re massive. that’s the most important part. then the girls’ll come-a-runnin’. I know it seems gross now, but you’ll get used to it, like your period.
you guys have a very clearly defined voice/point of view that makes your linkage of that sort of stuff interesting on its own merits. I appreciate you.
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thank you, that is exactly what we’re trying to do so yay!
know what to do because we’ve been fucking on and off for about 9 months but seeing other people. My reasons for breaking it off would be superficial (i’m not attracted to her face) but I dont want to hurt her. Should I break it off?
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i tend to believe
that if you’re really in love with a person
they are beautiful to you
faults become quirks
you just get so grateful
that this body has decided
to hold this person’s
thoughts and love and personality together
so that you can hang out with it
i might be naive, though
or wrong/naive
or just wrong
quit playing games with her heart,
would be my advice.
season 1 is the only season i watched sober, and i loved every minute of it
:(
You need to get the hell out of that village. There are so many other villages where you will find friends/new ‘family’ that understand. And cute girls to date.
when you update your version of chrome to the latest version
get a journal or notebook. write ‘NOTE TO SELF’ at the top of the piece of paper and write 'REMEMBER THIS FEELING YOU ARE FEELING’ at the end. in the middle, describe your feeling. every time you feel sad, look at that page and remember that it exists.
I’m alternatingly brilliant and witless
—and sleepless: bed is just a swamp to roll in.
Although I’d cream my jeans touching your breast,
sweetheart, it isn’t lust; it’s all the rest
of what I want with you that scares me shitless.
To miss you without being so damn cold
all the time. To hold you without dying otherwise.
To die without losing death as an alternative.
