27771
May 27

(Source: chopstickgirl)


May 20

Skrillex Reviewed By Cute Kids

My kids are royally fucked, they’re going to turn out just like me.


1818
May 18

18
May 17
Stems.

Stems.


May 17

When the fuck did my tumblr become my diary?

I’m lame.


5820
May 17
This is inspiring, maybe once I get my act together, clean my room, sweep up all the pieces of me into some semblance of who I used to be, I’ll write an ekphrasis on it. Right now though I’d just like to kill my mind with a year of silence, it would be wonderful not to think for a little while, or a long while. Maybe I just need to move to where the sun never sets, or I’ll just follow it, day by day, hour by hour, so the sun sets on everyone else but never on me. It’s as if my smile rises and falls with the daylight, and with the moon comes all the thoughts I’ve deferred from my mind all day. The moon does control the tides, I suppose it makes sense that it would control the tides of sorrow as well. I can’t decide which one I like better, my delusional daylight self, all sunshine, laughter and cheekbones, or my nighttime self. Not the nighttime self when I’m around other people, but the one when I’m all by myself, the honest one, the one that isn’t afraid of the truth. I guess I like them both, people need a balance of night and day to survive and I’m not exempt from this general rule.

This is inspiring, maybe once I get my act together, clean my room, sweep up all the pieces of me into some semblance of who I used to be, I’ll write an ekphrasis on it. Right now though I’d just like to kill my mind with a year of silence, it would be wonderful not to think for a little while, or a long while. Maybe I just need to move to where the sun never sets, or I’ll just follow it, day by day, hour by hour, so the sun sets on everyone else but never on me. It’s as if my smile rises and falls with the daylight, and with the moon comes all the thoughts I’ve deferred from my mind all day. The moon does control the tides, I suppose it makes sense that it would control the tides of sorrow as well. I can’t decide which one I like better, my delusional daylight self, all sunshine, laughter and cheekbones, or my nighttime self. Not the nighttime self when I’m around other people, but the one when I’m all by myself, the honest one, the one that isn’t afraid of the truth. I guess I like them both, people need a balance of night and day to survive and I’m not exempt from this general rule.

(Source: nevver)


1
May 17
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

Heretics - Andrew Bird


“Although pratfalls can be fun, encores can be fatal

and then I hear you say 

Thank God it’s fatal, thank God it’s fatal”

10 plays

May 17

Anew

I’m all packed into little boxes.

I’ll carry them out when it’s time to

leave. My shallow heart steadily beating

in one, the tempo reverberating

through cardboard. I’ll hear the faint thump,

thump while my feet pad down the

staircase, holding the box in my tired hands.

My mind in another, along

with broken figurines, glass flowers,

disco balls, pieces of pictures I’ve ripped

up or cut out of magazines. All the useless

junk staring up at me, all the useless junk

I can’t stand to part with, and my brain nestled

within it all, a vulnerable robin’s egg.

I’ve haphazardly strewn the rest of myself

among a colony of squares, memories tossed

into boxes of dirty laundry, dresses with sneering

stains on the back, pants that carry heavy smells

from some place or another. I’ll bring them all out,

and that’s how it will end, with an empty

house, the vacant rooms echoing your name.

I’m all packed into little boxes, and when

it’s time to leave I’ll close the door gently

and with regret, the hinges softly squeaking

the possibility of you and I for the last time.


1392
May 16

(Source: hani-j)


106697
May 16
  • My brain during the day: Potato, potato, ching chong tomato
  • My brain at night: I wonder why the Earth was placed exactly here and allowed us to provide a perfect climate to sustain human life.