afterlife

aloofshahbanou:

in the afterlife we all finally get to read the articles we “saved for later,” left in our “drafts,” and opened 50,000 tabs for

Tiny Beautiful Things

The useless days will add up to something. The shitty waitressing jobs. The hours writing in your journal. The long meandering walks. The hours reading poetry and story collections and novels and dead people’s diaries and wondering about sex and God and whether you should shave under your arms or not. These things are your becoming.

—	Cheryl Strayed, excerpt from Tiny Beautiful Things

drops

I don’t have any problem understanding why people flunk out of college or quit their jobs or cheat on each other or break the law or spray-paint walls. A little bit outside of things is where some people feel each other. We do it to replace the frame of family. We do it to erase and remake our origins in their own images. To say, I too was here.

—	Lidia Yuknavitch, The Chronology of Water

angel

reflections on our mutual history

(R)Nothing like a scorned lover to scorch the earth.

the sound of silence

it's strange that moment of realization. that you truly love someone. in a way you always hoped you would, platonically, be capable of loving someone, so poignantly in the moment that there viability is shattered by a lie they do not have the courage to untell. because, guys, let's be honest, friendship is fucking hard. past high school, relationships are fucking hard. work. and conscious toil and laboring and trusting it'll all be worthwhile in the big picture of that 'lifing' thing. and to find a friend so worthy, so understanding of ones own heart, and feel decieved. how does one forgive, when the act can't be acknowledged. but i will. because i love her. and i trust, despite our sins, our cowardices- love is worth it.

unlonely