Something as simple as walking down the street sparks the most troubling of philosophical conundrums. I feel foreign fingers interlaced with my own, and even though I know damn well who they belong too I constantly catch myself placing them where they do not belong, wondering why they don't respond when I call them "Love ( Read more... )

It's as weird as they said it would be ( Read more... )

This kind of ease has a taste. It has an aroma. It has a temperature ( Read more... )

"I walk, all day, across the heaven-verging field ( Read more... )

I see the fog from my window and wonder if the metaphors are true ( Read more... )

i am convinced that losing and regaining faith is the only way to stay whole, and the only way to really feel anything ( Read more... )

i am a million tiny absences. surely there are FIREWORKS and surely there is LIFE but, just as surely, there are holes. doubts. there is life remaining unsaid, unseen, and Not Felt ( Read more... )

i think the secret to hope doesn't have a fuckin thing to do with perception. i think it's real when it's real and it's not when it's not ( Read more... )

"I don't love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz ( Read more... )

My desire for change is maybe not what it should be. Maybe not quite as urgent as I believed it was, maybe not quite as honestly passionate as I believed it could be (I am happy with myself and with you; I am happy without laziness and without eyelash curlers and without proving myself to Just Some Girl ( Read more... )