Last Seen Blogs
barcasalon-blog
Mahdiyar
the-insurgent-generals
Craziest Ragtag Band of Rebels in the Galaxy
sinning-again
Let's give this another shot
hellothereimaloser
I WANNA HAVE A NORMAL ART BLOG
license-plate-heaven-blog
License Plate Heaven
Text
@fucking-eyelashes your username is amazing beyond words and i love that i understand it.
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
to me, these are the best paintings in the world.
0 notes
Text
“"I want to write a poem / for the women on Long Island who / when I show them the knife I carry in my purse / tell me it’s not big enough / Who are waitresses and realtors and massage therapists and social workers and housewives / and tell me they wish they would have been artists / "But life comes fast, ya know? / One minute you’re taking typing classes for your new secretary job in the World Trade Center and the next it’s almost over / Life, I mean / but I kicked and screamed my way through it and so will you / I can tell by the way you walk"/ One more thing - when they call you a ‘bitch,’ say, "Thank you, thank you very much."”
- Olivia Gatwood, Ode to the Women on Long Island
1 note
·
View note
Text
hate is tiring.
my limbs are heavy, as if moving through molasses.
my chin curls toward my stomach,
my knees to my chest.
at this point, it's a reflex.
i wince at the spot beneath my sternum that feels cold to the touch, and hollow.
i'm so tired.
the days of my childhood are eternities away.
where did that happy kid go?
i wish i knew.
i am so sick of being angry.
i am so sick of mourning who i was.
that happy kid isn't coming back.
maybe it's time to be happy on my own.
time to reach tenderly into the hollow of my chest,
and find the pieces of myself i thought i'd lost.
perhaps i'll reassemble them as modern art.
sure, they're not where they were supposed to be.
they're all crooked and bent,
but they've been to the depths of hell and back.
i wish i could go back a few years.
tell myself that it all works out for us, in the end.
i wish someone had told me i'd be okay.
i wish someone had hugged me.
i wish someone had kept the child in my soul alive.
i can't bring him
i'll spend my life mourning him,
the lost piece of me i can't ever find again.
what choice is there besides being kind to myself?
i do it for the lost part of me.
for that kid who was scared out of his mind
the kid who just needed a little love.
maybe, by loving others, i'll be able to heal what i lost.
i can't undo his loss.
i'll never be able to.
but maybe i can be a little nicer to myself.
maybe i can show myself the compassion he needed,
and, in turn, love others with unrelenting fervour.
love and love and love until the world is better for it.
0 notes
Text
scientifically speaking, it takes about 3.4 seconds for me to fall madly in love with whomever has the good rationale to make me a grilled cheese. what's my love language, you ask? quality time? physical touch? nope. grilled cheese. that's true love right there.
#science#grilled cheese#love language#hopeless romantic#grilled cheese is the mortal equivalent to the sweet nectar of the gods
1 note
·
View note