February 2012
2 posts
i don't know what's worse
yuujincho:
the fact that i feel like i can’t vent anywhere online anymore because people i know are watching and i don’t want to upset or worry them
the fact that i’m really stressing out about money and the future and my financial future and wondering why the fuck i chose this career why couldn’t i be less passionate more intelligent why couldn’t i choose a desk job that could pay the bills...
not for lack of trying.
(love, love everyone and everything, and don’t expect anything back.)
October 2010
3 posts
illicitly i spoke: perfect picture. →
burymywords:
in my dreams wherever they might be wherever we might be i am sitting across from you at the diner and you have this look in your eyes like you don’t know how to be around me and read the menu as i take pictures of the salt&pepper shaker, napkin holder, packets of sugar, snap snap snap snap. then…
a sapphic that’s not quite a sapphic
burymywords:
Friend, you’ve never backstabbed me, even when the
arrows rained from heavenly skies and took your
breath to distant places, Apollo’s creed that
fell upon your quivering body. Now I
weep in stanzas that fill my
.
soul with only many regrets, like how the
sun would shine but all I could see was beauty,
yours surpassing all, yet a fool that let the
tides destroy the light of...
michelle, ma belle.
these are words that go together well, tres bien ensemble.
June 2010
4 posts
beautiful faces, beautiful spaces
this is what i will never understand: how you made a girl fall in love with you with a touch of the hand.
we're sad, sad, sad little things.
(or maybe just me.)
what every actor wants
i want to be, simply put, fucking amazing at acting. i want to blow people away and make them go, “wow, i did not know acting could be done like that before.” i want to move my audience to tears and make them laugh uproariously; i want them to sympathize with my character, feel, truly feel, as if it were the first time in their life doing so, and they just can’t get enough of it....
where the hell do i get off from?
unrequited as always.
you told me not to cry, because i was better than that, because i was strong. in reality i loved you like i love the moon, everlasting and unwavering, and i could never bring myself to take my eyes away from your bright personage, you beautiful enigma. you speak to me with lips that do not move, in long, mute words echoing across the raging sea, but i seem to hear it all, i hear it all. and i cry...
May 2010
2 posts
lol hiatus, and no email sucks, so i'm posting...
don’t ask. » but the amount of photoshop links proves that i should reconnect with psdtuts and such sites lol…my photoshop skillz have been collecting dust in the closet, and i need to pick it up again. ANYWAY.
http://www.brusheezy.com/
http://www.photoshopbrushes.com/
http://www.bittbox.com/freebies/free-high-res-photoshop-brushes-grungy-texture
...
March 2010
5 posts
“Delay is natural to a writer. He is like a surfer—he bides his time, waits for...”
– E.B. White, The Art of the Essay No 1, The Paris Review (via @kissability) (via lanipauli) (via bildungsroman)
-
MY GOD. thank you, EB White, for not making me feel like the only one who does this. :3
words. it is always the absence of words -
the elusiveness, the way they dart in and out of those dark spots - that frustrates me to no end.
i felt particularly emotional this morning.
do you have a problem with that?
paper abuse.
[why must i always be surrounded by beautiful people?
to be reminded of my constant unworthiness.]
they wrap nylon bandages around me
oh, paper doll, paper doll
hide
those
damn
scars
rushing through your veins like
(damn tree fibers
that never died with the
scythe)
the jewels the necklaces gold lace hang on my neck heavy they take me they eat me! they feast on me for breakfast lunch...
and then all of a sudden i'm lost again.
like i never even had anything to hang onto in the first place. like all this time, i was…so weightless, so insignificant, so infinitesimal that it takes the presence of God to pull me back in.
(what can i do? i love him, i love him not. i love him, i love him not.)
February 2010
2 posts
weak.
i can’t even write about what is it this thing that sits so heavily on my soul like i used to like when the angers used to stab and prick i could release it in a nice flow of ink and not blood but it now it looks like blood is that answer but i refuse to be that suicidal i am only partially suicidal suicidal in that i want to kill the part that hates myself, the part i myself hate, those...
utterly alone.
i fall in beautifully gentle ways
watch me crack, tumble, split at the ends
this face, these fingers reaching out, could never be so removed as they are now.
look at me go
pearls of swine
descent into vacuum
(empty, like my breath)
January 2010
7 posts
i'll be the best girl you never met.
hello, my unrequited love.
my life is boring
oh well.
WHAT DO I DO WHERE DO I GO?
nobody knows.
i wish i had insomnia
so that when i closed my eyes, i could pretend to sleep. fool the clouds. fool the world.
they told us it was fate
and tied us together
failed to mention
it was doomed to begin with
so when the stars started to fade
all we could do was fall
and lose ourselves
remind me again. →
ashley, and then some
(or, there is a boy in my world somewhere and somehow, and i wish he’d drop like ash) his elbows dig into his thin sides like sticks glued too close its origination, and collarbones jut out against his smooth pale skin, just so delicately sloping it takes pains to actually resist running your fingers along the long descents. he’s way too skinny for your taste, perhaps his flesh was...
December 2009
20 posts
breathe. breathe.
you’re finally getting your shit together.
I DON'T REMEMBER ANYTHING ANYMORE.
clawing at my brain just doesn’t work.
(he asked me one day, why are you just staring out, staring out into the blank space?
i first asked who are you? but then i said, never mind me, it’s because the surface of this scorched earth is all i’m privy to seeing anymore.
he hooked his lithe fingers nimbly behind my ear, and whispered to me, i know you forgot who i was, but...
and i just - i just -
(oh god, let me try to not break down.)
i just can’t stop dreaming about your hair, how i’d run my fingers through them, or your eyes and your lips and how they’d crinkle into all types of tissue paper when you’d smile, or how we went to the beach one day and just kept running and running and running because we felt so damn free
but how are there no words, no words,...
http://obsessionmia.blogspot.com/ →
i think i took one too many tumbles down the...
because now i am somewhere i don’t know the way out of, somewhere fantastical and horrific, somewhere the vines and brush grow their awful, dripping smiles.
http://princess-rachael3.xanga.com/ →
even though it’s too late
candyteeth:
(four ways to lose the love of your life) - (i lost her on a sunny day.) (it’s a secret how this happened, but a bit obviously glaring – one moment she was here, the next, she was gone. she said with roses and flowers and pretty letters penned by calligraphic hand that she was desperately sorry, and all you could do was look away and laugh and think [oh my god, oh my god] because you...
ash stymest.
my new boytoy model obsession xD
http://forums.thefashionspot.com/f52/ash-stymest-72971.html
i'll never speak again.
i’ll never love again.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K8aAdHQEbSY&feature=PlayList&p=A16CE7AD8778EBA3&index=20
HE ATE MY HEART.
HE’S A MONSTER, THAT BOY IS A MONSTER.
four variations on a Thursday sunset
1.
Remember? Remember when we would admit such niceties as “will you be here if I come back tomorrow?” and “I will follow wherever you go”? Sure, those are generic phrases to utter, clichéd and all, but I really liked it when you’d give a soft hint of a smile, turn away, and say, Idiot, wind blowing your hair...
khr motherlode.
you know it.
http://www.animepaper.net/gallery/scans/Katekyo-Hitman-Reborn/
animepapers dumb tho, they only let me view like 3 things. ever. let’s see if they mercilessly block me again.
I CAN'T FIND IT.
whatever it is i’m supposed to find.
you know what,
maybe everyone’s just tired of me being the artsy kid. i sure know i am.
(how do i put it? it’s not that i’m fed up with having to create beautiful things or look for beautiful things every second of my life, but that everyone else doesn’t understand the beauty.
and the loneliness is perpetually ugly.)
mm, whatcha say, that you only meant well.
the jason derulo version of this song is kinda ridiculous, but oh well. :/
erk. link dump #4 (?) i have to warn all, this is going to be happening all vacation, most likely, as i’m on my sister’s computer and obviously can’t bookmark stuff. so please bear with the rather embarrassing (at times) links:
http://www.crunchyroll.com/group/Gokudera_Hayato
...
link dump #3.
i can’t promise this will be the last one.
http://sparkskey.livejournal.com/44526.html (this amuses me more than you can know)
http://community.livejournal.com/super_junior/1151393.html#cutid1 (wth, this as well xD)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3WiU5GUfvVw
http://www.lilikoi-dream.com/doujin/pixiv-preview.jpg
http://www.lilikoi-dream.com/doujin/cover.jpg
...
more sites.
and then i’m done. i think.
http://fuckyeahladygaga.tumblr.com/page/2
http://blog.adamjustkidding.com/
http://community.livejournal.com/umberline/2617.html
some sites i can't bookmark at the moment.
think of this as an internetz reminder.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/giuliadifilippo
http://www.flickr.com/photos/cengman/
http://kjsdesign.blogspot.com/2009/08/madison-magazine-have-teamed-up-with.html
http://kjsdesign.blogspot.com/
http://kjsdesign.blogspot.com/2009/12/raymond-meier.html
...
(american psycho.)
the secret is, is that i’m the real american psycho. i’m rusting to my bones in what seems to be a severely dilapidated version of god’s limbo. breathless. alice’s rabbits run the town with time-bombs in their paws, tucking them carefully away into my every nook and cranny, and i’m patiently twiddling my fingers though i have a keyhole on my neck.
(and even so, even...
(and when they screamed, "death to the artsy...
November 2009
1 post
17000 words?
at that point, i even forgot about my laundry. i just wrote, and wrote, and wrote. it wasn’t one of those overflowing bursts of creative inspiration and energy, like “oh, i’ve found the answers to life, love, and the universe,” but it was something. it was something.
October 2009
6 posts
i fell for you, once.
we hadn’t even known each other. we were just strangers in the street, stricken with the same affliction of meeting eyes. pupils drawn to each other with child-muted puppet string, and then a long, continual stare. almost soul-searching, soul-digging. and then a quick snap-back of heads. i was disappointed (because in that moment, i really, really did love you).
all these lines of broken prose make me want to...
(and i want to love him, and i want to walk the pools of water, and i want to be loved, but i can’t.)
happy birthday, mr. president. you’re a man.
SOMEONE WAKE ME UP
because i can’t wake without you.
FUCK. I THINK I'M A LITTLE LOST.
(a little lost, my girl?
yeah. she looks around. i don’t know where the hell i am, and it’s scaring me.
he holds out his hand. come with me.
how can i know to trust you? she says wildly. how will i know you won’t just leave me alone? how will i know you’ll love me in the end, irrevocably?
just trust me. and she takes his hand.)