October 13 2014, 09:43 PM

Dear Universe

Why waste your efforts on such a thing as this, when you could have made something more worthwhile? A bird, or a tree or even a rock. Something of value. Something people could look at and marvel. Think of all the potential this energy and matter could have been used for.
Instead, you made this sack of shit. Can I send it back? No refund necessary.

October 11 2014, 08:55 PM

How much can these arms continue to grow
When there’s nothing between to sustain them?

October 03 2014, 02:46 PM

Vapors of a Siren

lzlabs:

It’s the voice of a siren
singing sweet symphonic hymns
that lulls you into sleep each night
in a voice echoing sin

she’ll dance upon your shadows
play against your mind
tempt you in a scenic dream
plucking harp strings in perfect time

her kiss is never lasting
her body but a mist
you’ll reach for her in every dream
and in every dream, you’ll miss

September 29 2014, 08:19 PM

Reblog if you would read a post-apocalyptic comic about disabled people

neuroatypically-speaking:

Seriously. Because I have an idea for one, and I want to see whether I can make it work. I don’t know if I can find an artist who’d be interested in collaborating on it, but if I can, I have some ideas on how to fund it. I just want to see enough people would be interested in it.

Surely I can’t be the only one who’s tired of the idea that the apocalypse would wipe out all disabled people because we couldn’t possibly survive. 

September 29 2014, 06:28 PM

The End.

becksthewriter:

Today I met him, for the last time to bring him his things and to get mine from him.  He told me I looked different.

 We talked for about 40 minutes.  Some of it was heavy, some of it was not.  We cried, but we laughed too.  Sometimes both together.  When things were winding down and we both knew we should go but neither of us wanted to leave, I asked him about the song he named after me.

He wrote it on a summer day when I was being a weirdo.  I had an episode and shut down.  To escape I went to take a shower and rather than getting frustrated with me he sat down at the piano and wrote the song.  

He said he named it after me because it described who I was.  Soft in some places, heavy in others.  Light and airy and fun and sweet but in a key that gave the whole thing a melancholy suggestion.  A quiet sort of abrasiveness.

Standing on the street corner today, I asked him how it went and he smiled and hummed it and I cried while strangers looked at us funny.  When it was over I kissed him.  He held on to me and I smiled even though I couldn’t stop crying and he pushed my new bangs away from my forehead and wiped some tears away.  

"Now you look like how I remember you." 
I laughed, ”A mess.”
"A hot mess." he said and both of us were smiling.
"That’s me." I said.
He raised his eyebrows, “A hooooooot mess.” and kissed me on the forehead.

We hugged for a really long time and then he pulled away for real.  He looked at me like someone in love and said, “Take care.”

Then we walked away in separate directions, and I guess we’re strangers now.

September 29 2014, 06:11 PM

People lie and steal and take and beg, so much so that we hide ourselves, in fear that’ll be taken as well. Leaving us empty shells of ourselves.
Stolen heart.
Stolen mind.
Stolen soul.
Sold to none other than the devil for the gains, with not a cent returned for what was once ours.
Ours to claim.
Ours to steal back.
But there are those who take for the better, to say
"It will be alright. You can trust me."
There are those who will steal right from under your nose, and whisper
"Let me help. You are not alone."
For the burden of your
Heart
Mind
And soul
Doesn’t always have to be carried alone.
For there are those who just want to lift you up and say
"I love you."

September 29 2014, 04:37 PM
rachel-primaluce:

Sunrise - and I am privy to the day’s beginning the cycle of light and dark, night and day there is stability in this mad world- look skywards  let the beauty and grace illuminate these tired eyes with fire and lust  for this life- fanged teeth barred, wanting to sink every fibre of my being into trying to live again- remembering that happiness and freedom cannot be bought or bartered for; no riches  are enough to ‘have it all’ success means little if inside you are broken  still

rachel-primaluce:

Sunrise -
and I am privy
to the day’s beginning
the cycle of
light and dark,
night and day
there is stability
in this mad world-
look skywards
let the beauty
and grace
illuminate
these tired eyes
with fire
and lust
for this life-
fanged teeth barred,
wanting to
sink every fibre
of my being
into trying
to live
again-
remembering that
happiness and freedom
cannot be bought
or bartered for;
no riches
are enough
to ‘have it all’
success means little
if inside
you are
broken
still

September 29 2014, 02:46 PM

Your sugar tastes bitter
after golden honey kisses
have spoiled these lips…

 - (via lzlabs)
September 29 2014, 12:55 PM
September 23 2014, 06:28 PM

amnesia: life in the moment

mermaidsbite:

I’m not the sort of girl 
who cries and wretches 
over my pain endlessly as victim  
(I write it out and go on)

I’m not the sort of girl  
who drinks too much vodka
and breaks bottles on the walk 
(I did that once in college, still embarrassed)

I’m the sort of girl 
who forgets what we were upset about 
and crawls into your lap 
(I think I may be a puppy)

It’s important
to never say anything mean 
we cannot easily forget
(forgiveness is a given) 

September 23 2014, 04:37 PM

Horse of a Different Color

someothertomorrow:

Ive been so many things
To so many people
And you say you understand.
But its a little different
When you become the silence
That makes you feel all alone
At two in the afternoon.
Its a bit different when the sadness is
creeping into your mind,
sneaking into your sheets,
And laying you to restlessness
At the tilt of a glass bottle.

September 23 2014, 04:05 PM

dorkly:

"Eye of the Tiger" Played on an Old Dot-Matrix Printer

"Papa, what did the ’80s sound like?"

And this, kids, is why the generation before you is so grumpy. Because we had to deal with noisy shit like this and dial-up modems.

September 23 2014, 03:01 AM

I wish I could say that I’m in love with you, but that would require me giving the best of myself. Of that, I have nothing. I love you, but to be anything more would be unfair, for I have nothing to give. Funny, for all these riches, I am still so poor when it comes to you. There is nothing good in what I do. No beneficial act or kind word for those who are deserving. All I am is me, ragged and small and useless as I am to someone like you.
But it’s all I have as offering. The only thing I can give. It may not be enough - never be enough - but please don’t throw it away.

September 23 2014, 01:54 AM
  • H: Can I kick you in the back of the knee so you fall over?
  • Me: ... no.
  • H: Can I hug you tenderly and give you a smoochie?
  • Me: No.
  • H: ... well, then can I touch you in a completely emotionless manner that benefits neither of us?
  • Me: ... ...
  • H: I'll take that as a no.