Anonymous asked: Ok why do you have no confidence? You turn down compliments every chance you get and you talk about yourself like you are immeasurably ugly. You are talented as well, why would people be interested in you if you weren't?
My father attended a twenty-first party once, this was at least ten or so years ago, a friend’s son. The boy (or man, as it were) stayed till the speeches, thanked his parents and friends with sincerity and warmth, and then hung himself from the sky-grazing pine tree in his backyard. With this father gripping his legs, he did not wake. And this happens, every day, maybe.
Portraits Of Seventh Heaven Pt 1 (Sad)
‘I am sad because everybody around me is sad. It’s really hard to avoid and it rubs off on me. I just broke up with my boyfriend and I’m having to move into a new place too quickly to really be picky about it, which is really stressing me out. I just want this year to be over.’ [[MORE]] Why is it that crazy people inexplicably find each other? Something to do with pheromones. We all give off a...
There comes a point in life where each one of us who survives begins to feel...– Birds Without Wings - Louis de Bernières
zombiehammer asked: Stop being down on yourself. I just re-read that and I realised it is a hollow and pointless statement. Anyway, I just wanted to pop in, tell you yet again how I appreciate your writing, and use it to try and better mine. You influence my writing, just like I'm influenced by Vonnegut, Plath, Hunter S Thompson, Tom Robbins et al. There, less hollow, and with more of a point. Keep going.
Preceding All Other Things
So there were precarious steps at the entrance to my high school and I once saw a girl break a brick from one just by stepping on it, she tripped and fell, the step was never fixed, it remained chipped at the front, like a tooth. I visited the school at 1am, sixteen years old, in blue jeans with two boys. We put condoms throughout the playground and ran into a group of kids celebrating one of...
Anonymous asked: I wouldn't say that... I like reading what you write because it's done in a way most people (like myself) wish they could, but can't quite grasp. It's a talent I admire, even if some of the things you write about aren't necessarily to show off, but for personal purposes. I'm useless with advice, but that's just my opinion.
Anonymous asked: Advice for what exactly?
Anonymous asked: I love the way you write. I'm in a appreciative mood, despite having a rough night - so I thought I would just let you know. :)
Anonymous asked: Can I ask anything?
Ne Plus Ultra
To be honest, your dress doesn’t fit you well and does not do you justice. Or if there is no justice to be done, you have tried very hard to create some. In tutorials my intelligence is latent or overrated. The girl with the upward inflection and dark roots doesn’t irk me the way she might in any other situation. In all fairness, what she’s saying is correct and has been given...
She was licking the opened tin for hours and hours without realising that...– Spyros Kyriazopoulos - The Cat
Anonymous asked: If you were mine...?
Anonymous asked: You are a beautiful, strong, and intelligent person. The world needs more people like you.
Locked In A Public Bathroom
The main steps to the hospital are so inviting and the atrium is washed with sunlight, walls of windows. Except my Dad has cancer. I guess that’s common though right. Probably shouldn’t make any sort of deal about it, walking home I am composed and purposeful. Except the bones underneath the skin of his shoulders appear scrubbed right out and the tangle of tubes, extensions of his...
Wearing in new shoes again, my heels ache in defiance and the sight of my skin blistering is excessive, I think, like I have been boiled. I feel I am forever doing this, softening uncomfortable things. Finding ways to cover the sore spots that have no rush to heal. Like: Winter coats in the sun, such is the bandages on my soles. But my body does not even look like it has been blistered. Talking...
Anonymous asked: How's university? Are you being challenged? Have you made new friends?
And it was during that period that Madeleine fully understood how the...– The Marriage Plot - Jeffrey Eugenides
I Miss Everything
I wanted to write you something called The Life And Death Of Happiness Pt One, but sometimes I feel I never knew you happy, I only knew you dead. The season for flirtation and flings has slipped away, off stage, a costume change. And in this combination autumn, the obvious winter, the predator, with claws that dictate he is such. Clean months ahead, we are dry-cutting our hair. How many ten dollar...
‘There is nothing wrong with you’. Christ my keyboard is filthy. I have been dipping my hands in honey recently, writing pretty stories so slathered in whimsy I’m surprised they don’t make the readers vomit from the sweetness of them. The back of my throat tacky. Because some days are better than others, obviously, and some days call for an indifference. Have you noticed...
Anonymous asked: You should do a video if you have the technology and time... I would be interested as to what you are like in person, I can't vouch for anybody else unfortunately.
I prescribed for myself a striking plan, a proposition that when turned sideways had such a marked and beautiful profile. The difficulty comes with you who reads this, of course, you all have such stunning angles too. Turning my phone off, disabling email addresses. It’s ok, my eyes are so infected at the moment I could barely make out your beauty spots and premature creases anyway.
Fragile Explanations, Barefaced Torn Words
I did think it would be Him, feathered hair Him, conviction-less Him, that would fall for whatever alluring part of me dwelled underneath the colourless and consumer-offensive exterior. Barely negligible but pulsing hopefully. A mimicking heartbeat, but it hurts, my hope, shoved in a place too tight for even its barely-there volume. My weak wishes, they make me ache. But I did think it would be...
This evening I will be blowing out candles on a cake I can’t eat. The weather has turned its nose up at me, ‘weather bomb’, they’re calling it on the radio. Pushing my way home from the gym this morning with two bottles of red (twenty dollars each, for fucks sake) because mulled wine would be a comfort, I did not feel dramatic or stoic, this particular stretch of up-hill...
Are You Hungry
I am very tired, I’m telling the cocoa in my cupboard, not so perceptive, it does not even realise I am speaking to it. This is a Friday. It is almost the end of my frivolous lifestyle. Except on Saturday I am throwing my first ever solo party, at my place. My tiny narrow place. The walk home was not spectacular. Fifty-four bottles of beer and five bottles of wine and I was standing at my...
Where were you at three am, with the moon blaring down across empty pavement, save for my heart (it is scattered, still)? And where did you go when the snow began to slip from skies not yet broken in and all of us in awe, our wintry dreams uncommon? And closer to the time I knew your name and you left to walk, to stay elsewhere, where was that and who with? Did the nearby-winter chill your lips?...