February 2012
7 posts
ess-eff:
Aqualung & Lucy Schwartz - Cold
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Cunt Destroyer
Emotionally distraught, wrung like a dried wash cloth. Vulnerable, lost — in need of physical comfort, of warmth; of sexual healing. Retreating to a lover to be nurtured — From this day forward, You shall not walk alone. My heart will be your shelter, and my arms will be your home. Taking refuge in the folds of their cunt.
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nirvikalpa:
Question: How can I judge myself less harshly and appreciate myself more?
Ram Dass: I think that part of it is observing oneself more impersonally. I often use this image, which I think I have used already, but let me say it again. That when you go out into the woods and you look at trees, you see all these different trees. And some of them are bent, and some of them are straight,...
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“From beginning to end,
The rituals of our lives shape each hour, day, and year....”
– Robert Fulghum
January 2012
29 posts
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I keep trying to move but when I do I just smile and fall into a quiet giggle; the type that you pull out of your pocket and seal with a glass jar. Now my shelves are full of dusty giggles and I think, hello, I really want to give Cory and Gabriel a hug right now. But they’d never get it. No one gets it. Only Sarah gets it.
Vomiting up Tequila & Glitter: Innane ramblings of...
-I’m really digging Beyonce’s new album 4. I get it now. I get the singles, the videos, the direction she’s taken sonically, and the inspiration behind the choreography. It’s taken a quite a few live performances, one telling documentary, and a gentle nudge or three to finally get me there, and now that I’m ‘there’, wherever ‘there’ is, my...
His Pain
nickmiller:
“I hate the taste of alcohol—beer, wine, whiskey, all of it,” he said to me once, a statement which bemused me initially because he was always drinking.
But there came a time when I understood that it was never about the actual act of consumption or the actual act of sex for Parker; rather, it was about doing what he could to keep the deadness alive within him. His pain didn’t...
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“Last night, in the silence which pervaded the darkness, I stood alone and heard...”
– Rabindranath Tagore
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I'm hotter than. A 100 Degrees. A lot of bread. No...
Breaking fresh ka’ak over my laptop, ripping pieces off the loop and munching away, munching away. I seal the bag after I’m done. Air tight. Find sesame seeds scattered across my desk; all over my thighs. The sight amuses me. Bare thighs covered in sesame seeds. The thought amuses me more. Jashua hunched over his beloved, pecking seeds, kissing exposed flesh. A gnawing sensation. A...
He bustles about in socks and an apron wearing nothing but socks an an apron. Sets the tray of pretzels and tea down with a loud thud. Thud. Two lumps or three, Lumps of what, Sugar, I’ll have one thanks. He coughs gingerly, and then again, then excuses himself with a hoarse whisper, a fit of coughs in his back pocket, a used handkerchief in his front. He stands in the corner like a suicidal...
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There’s a wrench in the engine. A scarf caught in the spokes. My heart’s in overdrive, and you’re behind the steering wheel.
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swamibooba asked: Somehow I missed your posts about getting into an accident. I hope you're making progress on recovering and back to normal soon!
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“You might say, “What a dreadful day,” without realizing that the cold, the wind,...”
– Eckhart Tolle
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The Life & Times Of Isabella Summers.
After watching the movie Adam I tried dating a guy with Asperger’s. He wasn’t as cute as Hugh Dancy, and he kept doing this weird twitching thing with his mouth every time he was upset so I dumped him. It was right outside a pet store. He sat by the curb and whimpered like a wounded puppy. It was the cutest thing ever.
Since my accident I’ve been on heavy duty pain medication, and one...
December 2011
46 posts
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I promise to love you like a hand-embroidered pashmina scarf.
More Tongue.
My sudden absence from your lives. My being hit by a car. Leona Lewis wants to collide. It’s been a while since I’ve posted. My impending knee surgery. My inability to walk. Jessica Simpson’s walking boots. It’s been a while since I’ve posted. My dearest Sharona. My love. Maya Angelou. Lest we part again. Lest the flames of our love dim. Know I adore thee. Know...
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Anonymous asked: would it be weird if i called you daddy?
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"Hauntingly Beautiful"
A phrase I’ve come to loathe more than mention of Korean Pop music, or its equally repulsive abbreviation, ‘K-pop’. Tired and utterly glutinous, like a leech, the phrase festers and creeps — a poor replacement for serious, thoughtful commentary, stubbornly latching itself to and infecting the vocabulary of the lazy and uninspired. Never too far from a tragic storyline or...
Used Cars For Sale
We once walked on sand, you and I. Footwear left stranded by tired, wooden gates and a pathway of unrefined asphalt. Words were a seasonal affair, ‘i’s dotted with good intent, ‘t’s crossed with an unspoken friend request. My letters went long unheard until one day you confirmed. It rained that day. Sand turned to mud, and mud to grass, and we were since walking hand in...
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lordcockington asked: What's your blog writing process? Do you look for pictures and extrapolate a story from it, do you think up a piece and look for a picture to match it, or...?
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rabbitsfollowme asked: You like all the things and reply to my posts. You're a nice person who is nice! Who are you guurl?