here's to our attempt
at living next to death
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philosophically, that aint easy

i. clean my collarbones with rubbing alcohol, eyelids with witch hazel. every morning. every night. scrape off the dirt. cover myself

ii. wine. a lot. too much. bathe in it until i melt into it. then fold myself up; stick me in the empty bottle. throw myself out to sea

iii. maybe someone will find me // iv. maybe i’ll find myself

v. rubber bands around my wrists. translucent neck for the severed ties. the broken ones. friends; mother; god. picks up a bottle. throws it against the sky. shattered glass and wine-drop rain. read me

These past few days/weeks have been rampant. That probably isn’t the best word to use, but it’s the most fitting. I feel like I’ve been collapsing.. maybe exploding. I’m not exactly sure. But I feel stuffed—breaking at the bones, tearing at the seams. Maybe it’s because my nose has been stuffed for the past few days so I feel kind of enclosed, tightened. I want so desperately to spend an entire day or two at the beach. Just sleep on the beach. Wake up. Take a run along the coast. Ride a bike during the day. Eat frozen yogurt. Drink a smoothie. Bite into fresh fruit. Do it all over again. I think I just need a break. Both fortunately and unfortunately, school starts up  in a few weeks. I’ve been working diligently on writing, and have been making an attempt to shift my focus to school. I keep warning my friends that once school starts, I’m gonna be M.I.A. No one seems to really get it, though.. at least I don’t think they do. But I’m excited, to say the least. That thing that gives us the option of choosing between work, school, and social life works like this for me: work and school; I can definitely survive without a social life. Esp. since these past few months it’s been work and social life, and I feel unaccomplished. I’m gonna drink some tea, write, and think about my plans/schedule for tomorrow.

  • rlly thinkin about getting baptized in the future. like, rlly rlly
  • i’m sick with a v dense headache and stuffy nose
  • green tea green tea green tea
  • dude at work i used to talk to offered to buy me a drink last night; i denied. idk idk just not feelin anyone rn ‘cept for myself and even that’s questionable
  • woke up this morning feeling the world collapsing on my eyelids
  • went to the beach today. felt perfectt
  • listenin to this playlist diabl sent to me. only on the first song but kinda diggin’ it
  • hiking early tomo morn and beach early Sat morn. im feelin’ nature a lot lately

flawr-ents asked: I just wanna tell you. You're amazing. That's all;)

I’m not sure when you sent this (for whatever reason, tumblr doesn’t notify me of new messages and I stupidly don’t check my inbox every time I’m on here) but thank you.

You’re so kind; hope all is well with you!

Do you see what you look like? Are you aware of your existence, your presence in relation to how others perceive you? Do you have a twin? Is he anything like you? Do you wish you were anything like you?

— "Modern Coffee Tables Don’t Speak," a short story by ku-o

And, suddenly, the wait is over.

— SIX WORDS (9/2/14)

(Source : ericboydblog)

(Source : lightsnaxx, via shulammitegirl)

Opal

wildflowerveins:

God called me Fish Heart. Lily Mouth. I was an evening sort of girl. He liked me better ripped up, bar bathrooms, bar peanuts, skip the small talk. We’re both Adam. We’re both Eve. In the mornings, swallowing bait, swallowing nails, pulling apart the microwave, two forks and an empty socket. Baby, there is always a limit. Hours spent rubbing my belly, waiting for watermelon trees, or orange bushes, or flowers heavy with green apples. And now, this is what I can dissect: his fingers in the gut of the fish, his fingers in the core of the flower, always pulling. Like it wasn’t enough to feel, like He had to see, to know.

I only write when I am falling in love, or falling apart.

— e.s. (via selectables)

(via diabl)

The timing in which people enter your life is very important.

— Unknown (via wethinkwedream)

(Source : black--lamb, via wethinkwedream)

I’m beginning to understand the significance of emotions—of having them and of releasing them.

Today I cried at work. Two times, it was external. Too many times, it was internal. When I asked myself what I was doing and what was so wrong to provoke me to tears, abashedly, I didn’t have a coherent answer. So I suppose I was crying just because my body felt it was necessary in that moment. Despite not having a legitimate reason to my melancholic state of mind, it felt good and mainly necessary to cry. I don’t know why, but I did. And I’m glad I did. And I guess that’s why sometimes it begins to rain when the sun is out. Or the sun sometimes peeks from the clouds when it’s storming out. Even nature has it’s moments where emotions become too overwhelming, and sometimes too simplistic, to keep inside. But the sky never apologizes for crying at random, or feeling slightly too complacent with itself to even want to bring the moon out at night; it doesn’t apologize for storming in the morning, or shining too bright during winter.

I’m learning to learn a lot things and from a lot things. One thing is: pay attention to nature; observe how it interacts with itself; mimic. There is an indispensable amount of knowledge in it that is also so intricately intertwined in us—our veins are aware of it; our subconscious lusts for it.

The link between nature and emotions is more visible than we think.

But that’s the wonderful thing about foreign travel, suddenly you are five years old again. You can’t read anything, you have only the most basic sense of how things work, you can’t even reliably cross the street without endangering your life. Your whole existence becomes a series of interesting guesses.

Bill Bryson, Neither Here Nor There: Travels in Europe (via mymangotree)

(via sendmethesea)

the latter half ||

o8.21 || it was a day of salt-water, sweet margaritas. riding along the beach with the sun painting my skin a deeper color of gold. later that night, we relaxed on a hammock in the middle of a plaza that looked like a forest. she talked about life back home and he talked about how lonely he is, in so many words. i listened. thought about him. wished i was alone. that night i left with a horrible stomach ache. the next morning, i woke up soar and flushed out. i want to go to the beach again. next week. tomorrow. right now. in this moment.

o8.22 || after work we met up in the parking lot of the mall. we went out to eat with a friend. drank more sweet drinks. talked about future plans. basketball games. work. people who treat friendships as if they were competitions. we talked about a lot. after, the two of us drove up to a dirt road that leads to a forest, overlooks the city. she said, “the city’s alive” as we stared ahead like locals to foreigners. we talked about each other, others, the strangers that were around us. parked in cars like silhouettes. i danced around every time i saw a shooting star. i like how she makes me feel as though we’re growing together, encouraging each other, benefiting one another in some way. there are two, three people that have made me feel that way- made me feel like i’m actually gaining something from being around them. i’m not sure, but i think she’s beginning to become one of them.

o8.23 || i got into an argument with my parents. when i came home from work, my mother was in the kitchen cooking something for my dad. it was just us two. when i came down after changing, as she requested, she talked to me about myself, morals, misguidance, etc. she told me about my progress, but also about my tendency to digress. i agree. i didn’t agree with her at that moment, but i agree.

o8.24 || i like the way my body feels when i drink a lot of water. when i eat a lot of fruits and when i exert myself willingly. lately, i’ve had this strange desire to be natural. submerged in nature. i went to work bare today. someone told me i look different. like something’s “missing,” he said. I told him how my face was naked and he “oh’d” as if he found the answer to life. and he looked so intrigued i felt like a showcase at a museum. another person told me, “there’s something different about you today. I like it.” i’m carrying myself like i’m gold. people notice things like that, you know. o8.24 || he keeps pulling himself toward me; asks why we can’t just be friends after having me deny his request to visit him last night. just hang out, he says. go do stuff. have a good time. i think the only person i’m ready for is myself, and even that’s a bit questionable.