September 2011
home: writers make the mundane sound awfully romantic →
sealegslegssea.tumblr.com
I see a situation and I fluff it up, make an afternoon seem like an adventure
Because I can tell you that tonight I stood on the roof of the science building, I saw a shooting star, the Andromeda Galaxy and watched heat lightning while having a conversation about music, art and…
“Time is an equal opportunity employer. Each human being has exactly the same number of hours and minutes every day. Rich people can’t buy more hours. Scientists can’t invent new minutes. And you can’t save time to spend it on another day. Even so, time is amazingly fair and forgiving. No matter how much time you’ve wasted in the past, you still have an entire tomorrow.”
—Denis Waitley (via middlenameconfused)
Stop changing sources? No offence but its kinda mean
i don’t believe i’ve ever changed a source. what exactly are you talking about?
How to Balance Writing, Reading, Being a Human →
spectermagazine.com
Writing for Specter Literary Magazine, former fwriction : review contributor Brett Elizabeth Jenkins asks one of the most difficult questions, one I struggle with daily: how do you balance life and writing?
What sucks is that most of us, if we call ourselves writers, don’t get paid for what we love to do. Some of us enjoy teaching, and we do it. And some of us really love it. But some of us just love writing and can’t find anybody willing to dole out tons of money to us just so we can sit in a room all day without having to see other humans.
“My idea of a solution is to say screw it, and let the apartment look like a rhinoceros went ice skating in here. I go three weeks without writing a damn thing. I find time to do the things that absolutely need to get done right now, like eating, and having sex, and leaving for work, and occasionally mailing a Netflix disc. Eventually I will sit down and the words will come erupting out of me, because if they don’t I will twist somebody’s head off. And that’s how I live.”
i must be a really strange person to have sex with.
“nice belly button!”
“i just love the look of used condoms.”
one of the many reasons today wasn’t the best day ever:
the guy whose dick i sucked last week is ignoring me. i’d like to add that he’s been my friend for 2 years, so he wasn’t a one night stand. the sad part is that i sent him three text messages and one Facebook IM before i got the hint. i’m not desperate, just clueless. also, i was an only child for 9 years, so i guess i’m just not used to being ignored. dude, all i want to tell you is that i finally thought of an answer to your question, “what do you think vaginas look like?” they look like cocoons and/or a small person wearing a hood like the grim reaper! also, that first text i sent you? that was a lie. you really don’t have a talented tongue. i just thought it was polite to thank people for sexual favors.
this one's for the girls →
filleosophy.com
“As a society, we have moved beyond the tired practice of shaming women for leading irresponsible, public, or less conventional sex lives to shaming us for having sex at all.
Granted, you have no problem masturbating to us or fucking us. Some of you have no qualms about raping us. In fact, it is only when we want to harness our own sexuality that you take any issue with us.”
reasons i miss having a boyfriend
1. I want to refer to someone as Lover Lip.
2. I miss having a penis to play with.
the sex worker speaks of lavender
He lodges roses into bullets,
plants bruises atop eager tulips.
She bathes in petal’s milk,
cracks leather whips
across flesh mountains,
covers skin in lavender constellations
and marmalade bruises.
He is the breath of a caress,
the fading linen between thigh and chest.
She is the exhilarating gasp,
the moment before palm meets ass.
Their lavender thrives underground.
Authority penetrates soil
with lavender wisps,
attempting to stain
those who realize
a fuck is not a kiss.
traaaaang, yes, i did! it was interesting. haha. do you have an ask box?
i really think i lack coping skills, because it’s been over 3 and a half weeks since trevor uprooted our two year relationship, and i’m not even close to feeling happy for very long, much less moving on or whatever the hell people attempt to do at this point. my favorite way to cope is to think about how i made out with a drunk bro this weekend. he was wearing a baseball cap and knew the words to every rap song that played. when i said “wow, you sure know all of the words”, he was like “oh, i’m just singing as i go”. also, he sort of rested his head on my shoulder as he chanted “i’m so wasted, i’m so wasted”. i’m not sure if those were song lyrics, his actual thoughts, or both. i giggle just thinking about it. i can’t believe this is currently my life.
