She seems to smile down at the world, just a sliver of light, ever watchful. Always seeing, always quiet. She appears to fly alongside the cars - it's just a trick - she doesn't actually visibly move. At least, that's what we've been told by the grownups. An optical illusion, they call it. She soars through open fields and over quaint brown ( Read more... )

There is no more wonderful feeling in the world than learning to love someone; getting to know someone, their facts and figures, their flaws and feats, and finding where you fit in their world.

There is nothing more beautiful than watching very, very, bad anime with women who never wear pants, but have rocket-propellers attached to their legs, and ( Read more... )

As most of you know, I went through a very complicated breakup within the past three months, that had been in the works since July or August.

A week ago, on the 21st of February at 6:09pm (he's the one that knew that, yesterday, not me), I met a boy that seriously blew me out of the water.  For our first date we met at a giant record store, ( Read more... )

( Read more... )

It's crammed down our throats again and again.  When meeting people from the internet do so safely or don't do it at all.  We're told over and over again that some percentage of women are raped and murdered by a date met on the internet.  Warnings galore exist than men on dating sites could never possibly be who they say they are.  The negative ( Read more... )

And for Valentine's Day?  What?  With a mad cute boy?  What the fuck is going on?


( Read more... )

Whoever despises the clitoris despises the penis
Whoever despises the penis despises the cunt
Whoever despises the cunt despises the life of the child.

Resurrection music, silence, and surf.
Who are we really, but a culmination of our stories?  Who are you?  Are you hair and eyes and nose and hands and feet?  Or are you that time you ( Read more... )

He was a decent friend of mine in high school, but we were never Bee Eff Eff or anything like that.  We were outcasts, the both of us; our mutual friends were the bizarre artsy types.  He was massively depressed and completely unstable.  We only hung out a few times outside of school, but he was one of the most creative, interesting people I ( Read more... )

Her fingers trace the cold tiles as she sits, surrounded by a small city of cardboard. Her back itches against the plastic of the refrigerator. She pulls her legs underneath her body and forces a crooked smile. Indian style is what they used to call it when she was in school; Gods only know what they call it now. Political correctness and ( Read more... )

Manstration posted a couple of posts recently about promiscuity.  Now, as most of you know, I love her and usually do nothing but agree with her.  I've been in love with Olya since I found her page way back (in the day) before she was Manstration.  For some reason, however, these posts pushed my buttons in all the wrong manner ... end tangent.

I'm ( Read more... )