March 2012
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rabbit rabbit
rabbit habit habit ravage ravaged have it grab it savage have it have it ravish ravage rabbit rabbit have it have it
February 2012
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it's raining out,
so i’m skipping class. sitting in my favorite library. when the rain stops i’ll migrate to that coffee shop i like and treat myself to some nice tea because my heart got broken last night which perhaps i should have seen coming. i keep writing the end of this post and then deleting it. i am a cool girl. i will be fine. i won’t eat for two days maybe. and not go home either. not...
fuck this shit, i’ve been crying on and off since six o’clock, i’m going to sleep.
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well.
so apparently trying my best to maintain good relationships with people, handle our housing, and generally just take care of people i love & care about— apparently that backfires. it does hurt. when someone says, i don’t want you in my life anymore. because the very moment you tell someone you don’t want them around— in any capacity, whether it’s forever or for a...
Anonymous asked: i like that thought, as incomplete as it may be. i think the key really is to just give people a chance, and give yourself a chance as well. i do wish that i knew you in person though, the amount of beauty that you find in everything is wonderful, and something I am exorbitantly jealous of. -loveanon
Watchdevincastro:
“Zebra” by Beach House + the Pegasus scene from Disney’s Fantasia (1940).
This video is now forever carved into my tumblr.
wait wait this makes me so fucking happy i don’t even <3
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guys why am i such an anxious person all the fucking time
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wknd:
dnc prty / rgh sx w ltrry frnd / cff w qn f my hrt / rnng rnd / trn t bklyn / ndrw brd / chns fd w chp br / hm lt lt lt t nght / brkfst / gd tm w lvly ppl / fncy dnnr w brst frnd / pzz / tw sxtn dwght / rdng / cgrtts w mpy pt / slp slp slp slp slp
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berkeley, 9:10 am
i feel like all i write about these days has to do obliquely (or not so) with food or sex. which makes sense, because i am always concerned with what goes inside me, the way my body and its soft bulk take the outside world— take it, really, in every sense. once i asked a friend if i looked too risqué and he said no, you just look like you can take it— take what, well, whatever they...
Anonymous asked: Hi, love-anon here again. I guess I just say that because i've been following you for so long, and if this blog is anything like the inside of your brain I can't imagine not falling in love with you.
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i love my tumblr-pals. you all are golden. yes let’s please have a party in hell with s’mores and punch and we can make collages and nibble chocolates i’ve lifted.
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questions for late february:
if we made out but i don’t look at you was it still kissing? if i dance on the roof but i don’t remember it am in trouble? if we’re talking again, does that mean sex will follow and can i say no and did i eat today and did i sleep yesterday? if i can’t find my way back home tonight can i call you and crash on your futon? if you like my poem does that mean you like me too?...
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this is unrelated to anything ever
but last fall when i was studying greek and roman sculpture and spent hours and hours in the university art gallery i had this terrible terrible urge to put my mouth on a marble sculpture— to just slide my tongue along the stone, taste it, i imagined it’d taste cold and sweet and clean but you’re not allowed to do that in museums. this is to say right now i want something between...
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(note that that’s a kissy face, and not my usual asterisk-untitled-header) things i realized today: maybe my brand of ~feminism~ is standing on cross campus next to the women’s table in bright pink booty shorts, a button-down, and my bomber jacket, with unshaven legs, eating a slice of pizza in front of a group of tourists like it ain’t no thang.
Anonymous asked: you seem like the type of girl that many people fall in love with.
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hot pink, white, oxfords, sand, red.
it’s warm out, so i’m wearing clothes from this summer— and i found that pomegranate balm i like, so my lips taste nice. everything reminds me of last spring, but the good parts. i am happy today without knowing why (blue sky, sun), i smell a little like september. but not in a bad way. and i am only human. this afternoon i’m undressing for performance art. rehearsal that...
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peaceandflying:
shh-utlow:
if i didn’t have a midterm to study for i think i would like to write about objectification in fandom/online, particularly as it applies to tumblr. basically i think that tumblr (particularly the reblog feature) sort of cultivates this weird culture that makes it okay to talk about people with a complete disregard for theory of mind. like, straight up...
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if i didn’t have a midterm to study for i think i would like to write about objectification in fandom/online, particularly as it applies to tumblr. basically i think that tumblr (particularly the reblog feature) sort of cultivates this weird culture that makes it okay to talk about people with a complete disregard for theory of mind. like, straight up objectification. people posting pictures...
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breakfast.
me: your stubble did a number on my upper lip.
him: well, your teeth did a number on my bottom lip.
me: so between us we've got one complete mouth, at least.
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patterns
have consumed consolation hot chocolate, want to go on a run, vomit/cry, will probably just end up in someone’s room because it is too cold out for that running nonsense, UGH WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE
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so like,
(fun fact: that title autocompleted to “so like, maybe i’m weepy tonight” which is not what i intended to write but clearly something i’ve written before and also so fucking true) i feel as though this blog has lately been subtly or not so subtly a bit of a lotus-is-depressed-fest which is weird, coming off of lotus-does-yale-sans-substance and...
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i suppose it speaks to my temperament that given the opportunity to dj in my favorite coffee shop (m is the best and the sweetest man i know), i put on yankee hotel foxtrot. sitting at the counter pretending to write; writing sort of. i feel like i’ve slept-walked all through the day and am waiting for something very satisfying and grand. i can’t really get over that dream, though.
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that was a really unnerving dream.
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asdfjadjfdlkafjla
my phone may or may not have been stolen out of a bathroom and i am entering full crisis mode HALP i just want to find it and have my sole form of communication back
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tungsten teeth
(this is a daily theme i just handed in. please don’t reblog— this could be considered academic writing, and i’d like it to stay here.) I. I am sitting in a white plastic chair. Z has turned up the tungsten lights to their brightest setting and the small music room has turned cramped, stifling; I want to take off my sweater but I’m not wearing anything underneath so my skin...
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short poem
i touch your face i put twelve grains of salt on my peanut butter and honey toast i touch your face i apologize for not loving you more
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i’m in a strange place right now.
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guys. guys. tragic news. so that house i was going to live in next year? STOLEN AWAY on the vicious shoulders of some random people who don’t even have a relationship with the house but were cutthroat with the landlords. legitimate strangers. they were so aggressive; we didn’t stand a chance. i’m actually broken up a little bit over this. i love that house so much. /bittersweet
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why?
this semester i’m involved as an artist & assistant director on a production of cinderella that combines art, acting, and a chorus. it’s shaping up to be one of the most powerful creative experiences i’ll have this semester. at our last group meeting pan— the director— had us go round and talk about why we do what we do. and i realized, though i make work...
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things i learned yesterday:
1. vegetarian boys may love vegan raspberry strudel, but the one who wants to kiss you is the one who will walk all the way to book trader to get it. 2. i am the world’s best not-psych major research assistant. like, seriously. i’ve got cold calling and unlocking shit and restarting shit on lock. 3. semi-related: 60 minutes is lowkey visiting my lab and covering some of our research...
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it makes me smile a little bit to think that some folks consider me a scandal.
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valentine's day 2012
epic beautiful lovely dinner w/ lyra (three hours of ususususususus i love us oh gosh i love everything about this friendship and our journey and everything we’ve become)
cinderella mischief
stick-and-poke anticipation
burning sage & pink paper w/ names written on it & clearing hearts w/ pan
home home home home home sleep early work later.
i am okay. good night.
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bike light
just spent a few hours sitting around in loki’s room, talking. i was curled up against him— he’s much bigger than me— and it was an introspective night for both of us, i think. the kind of night where you just tell stories and sit and feel someone’s voice through the back of your ribs and nod and cry a little bit quietly and it’s okay i mean it will be, pick up...
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creepiest footnote ever:
*psychopaths only. (the perks of hanging out in psych labs)
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useless post
i think i need to take note of days i feel particularly lovely so that i can remember that they happen and yes sometimes i can be a creature of beauty and light not to sound like a fucking awful cliche but really, i just want to press my hands against glass and look down and smile a lot. this is kind of important because sometimes i have days where i can’t bring myself to crawl out of bed....
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lowkey blogging while i eat a grapefruit alone in calhoun dining hall. i’ve written of breakfasts many times over but i really think that they are the most lovely underrated meal. sitting there in the sun lingering over mint tea. i’m going through a bunch of my old writing that i wrote for no real purpose, just to write. i want to publish it somewhere besides here but it is hard....