i’m! not nearly as tough as people think i am. i have a lot of feelings. i write about them but i think people forget you have feelings if you live on the internet and say things that are opinionated and also if you are hot. anyway. i have my hand on my heart i’m trying not to cry. i’m not sad i just want to crawl inside myself and find a safe place
1:08 am • 23 September 2014 • 10 notes
i opened my window to let in a little bit of cool air it’s so warm in here & i was struck very quickly by the memory of watching myself touch you, our reflections ochre and gold, edged with light, of turning to the glass and seeing myself take you in i watched me and then i watched you watch me
i did not consider the backyard i did not consider the neighbors they may have been very lucky if they witnessed such devotion as the devotion i mumbled when i went down on you
now & again i step back into us like a dancer who’s afraid she forgot how to waltz but the body remembers its referents / i wear your shirt like a signifier and its long tail of sentiment stretches back before we were an us
will i never be rid of this / will i never stop marveling
11:39 pm • 21 September 2014 • 22 notes
i am waiting for my housewarming party to start and trying to drink this beer slowly so i don’t get too drunk, love me
7:36 pm • 20 September 2014 • 24 notes
thinkin’ about money a lot lately
thinkin’ about the capitalist underpinnings of romantic love lately
thinkin’ about how in your bed we talked about new money and i called myself a gatsby and then i said, all i want is a bunch of nice shirts, and you said— that’s my line, and daisy buchanan never wanted for anything anyway
there is a bite mark on my neck, very thin and very red, open-mouthed like a parenthesis
3:50 pm • 20 September 2014 • 21 notes
“Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.”
The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald
"What’ll we do with ourselves this afternoon?" cried Daisy, "and the day after that, and the next thirty years?"
"Don’t be morbid," Jordan said. "Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall."
(Source: balltillifall, via kerdea)
1:03 pm • 20 September 2014 • 127 notes
last night, very drunk in A’s bed, i asked him why everything was happening twice. i had visions of things happening over and over again, like they needed to repeat to be finished— pots of water pouring and pouring, a shirt folding and refolding. the whole world seemed like a giant ruse and i couldn’t find the seam in it.
"why is everything happening twice?" i asked. "i don’t know," he said in a soft voice, and kissed me on my neck. i knew then that he did not understand what i was asking, but knew that i was asking something. "why am i so cold?" i asked him. i curled up into a ball and put my feet against his knees. "do you want a pair of socks?" he asked me. "no, i’m okay," i said, and fell asleep.
in the morning, i woke up dehydrated. it was too early and i felt groggy but i asked A what he wanted for breakfast out of habit and he said “i don’t know, something simple” and then i said “i’m so tired i actually don’t want to cook you breakfast but i thought i’d ask.”
"don’t cook then," he said. "sleep in." he went to go take a shower and i lay in bed for a few minutes and then put my glasses on and decided to make him a breakfast sandwich, not because i had to but because i love him. i put bread in the toaster and fried an egg with some garlic and salvaged some avocados from our dinner last night to spread on the toast. i put the egg on top and then some cheese and watched it melt. i put the sandwich on a small blue plate and when he came out of the shower still a little wet and sparkling i said "i made you a breakfast sandwich," and then i said, "the avocados are from last night." "you’re sweet," he said, and he picked me up and twirled me around the kitchen, dripping water on the floor.
11:46 pm • 17 September 2014 • 22 notes
Anonymous said: Do you have a link to that post you made last year of advice to freshmen? I'm not a freshman anymore but it still feels lonely and often awful and i remember reading that post early in the morning on a park bench and it made me a bit more hopeful.
hi, yes, it’s right here. i hope you feel better soon, but it’s okay if you don’t, you are allowed to feel the way you are feeling. sending very much love your way.
8:07 pm • 15 September 2014 • 5 notes
Anonymous said: so did you decide against grad school?
for now, yes. i’d been in school for sixteen years & it seemed high time to take a break.
3:45 pm • 11 September 2014 • 3 notes
i feel v bruised and small today it’s bc i have been made very aware of my place in the capitalist machine
12:23 am • 11 September 2014 • 17 notes
curled up on the phone in bed / giggling like a teenager / wake me up any time, i don’t care, it’s good to hear you
2:29 am • 10 September 2014 • 9 notes
i’m very happy, for the present, and today i walked from 91st to 72nd in heels that made my feet hurt but i didn’t care, and every day reveals like a new lover another glimmering opportunity, and every moment is a little white egg waiting to be cracked, and i am in bed with a mug of red wine and i am thinking of my future, and of you who i see in it, of this room i am building and this life i am trying hard not to script as though it were a movie although it is hard, sometimes, when i get glimpses of myself on the subway, my reflection flickering over the dark tunnels under manhattan. today, my train ran parallel to the local for a while; to amuse myself, i made eye contact with the passengers on the other tracks, trying to hold their gaze, and smiling as i might smile at a friend, and smiling mostly because i knew that after whatever we shared so infinitesimally the moment would collapse and it didn’t matter, it never had.
11:57 pm • 9 September 2014 • 23 notes