January 2010
93 posts
“I was half in love with her by the time we sat down. That’s the thing about...”
– J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye (1945) (via chelseapaigebarker)
1 tag
Hopeful. I feel hopeful, which is a pleasant change. Hopeful in the way that my whole body feels filled up with questions and promises, quivering with possibilities. And it’s like I’m walking along the edge of a cliff. One wrong step and it could all be over. And then I’d be plummeting down, down to who knows where, for who knows how long. But so far I haven’t fallen, and...
1 tag
It seems like excitement is so fleeting these days. One minute, I’m doing something, I’m painting words across my wall with shaky, cold hands. And I’m excited because my plan is for my wall to someday be filled, completely covered with words and pictures. In my mind it’s beautiful. And then suddenly all of that excitement leaves me, like a blown out candle, leaving the...
1 tag
Once, when I was younger, still in Tae Kwon Do, I was told something I’ll never forget by the instructor. I was sparring someone, and he said to stop and then he started sparring with me instead. I was nervous because he was so good, but he went easy on me at first. But then he began to call out each move that I was about to make. “Roundhouse. Side kick.” He’d say them...
You clench your fists and your cracking knuckles sound like snapping tree branches. I unfurl your fingers and scatter the broken bits of days past that you held so tight. You look at me hard pulling the secrets from my eyes. Your breath is warm on my neck as your words fall into my ears. I have nothing left, nothing but teeth marks on my arm, and raindrops dripping off the waves of my hair. But...
1 tag
We’re waiting in the dark, in the cold. And the wind howls and the voices in our heads whisper and urge us to, ‘hurry, hurry hurry’. But we can’t, not yet. I hate this uncertainty, but I love the feeling that comes with it. The feeling of being alive. The blood rush, the adrenaline. Nervous, shaking hands. The uncertainty of when to run, when to stay, when to hide....
1 tag
“She watches the world through a pane of glass.” “That must be an awfully dull life then.” “Quite the opposite actually, for she carries it with her wherever she goes.”
1 tag
When all the other little girls I knew were putting on sparkly eyeshadow and learning to sew I was learning to break wooden boards with my fists and learning not to cry. There was a time when everyone went through the phase of making friendship bracelets. You were supposed to tie them tight enough that they wouldn’t slip off and wear them until they fell off on their own. I never wore mine...
COME, my tan-faced children, Follow well in order, get your weapons ready; Have you your pistols? have you your sharp edged axes? Pioneers! O pioneers! For we cannot tarry here, We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger, We, the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend, Pioneers! O pioneers! O you youths, western youths, So impatient, full of action, full of manly...
…This is a raincheck. An IOU…
Thank you, I’ll be sure to remind you.
And you’re lovely as well.
“You know how sometimes when you’re drifting off to sleep and you’re not actually thinking about anything in particular? And your mind drifts from one thing to another. And sometimes you don’t realize it. But if you’re aware of it then its like an endless nonsensical story playing out before your eyes. One image leading to the next and you have no idea how anything...
Writing is what I love. What keeps me sane. I like keeping a journal so I can remember everything that happened, good and bad. I like writing memories, reliving the happiness or sadness with pen and paper, or fingers tapping on a keyboard. I love stories and writing down random bits of whatever I think of. Real or made up. It clears my head, it makes me happy. I love writing letters, I love...
showmethetruth:
orangecrushsoda:
I hope other people look at my photos the same way I look at theirs, and I hope my photos hold that same mystery.
2 tags
I still remember the last night so clearly. How we walked the road all the way from one end of it to the other. You were looking for something missing, I was helping you find it. We would jump at every flash of a firefly in the dirt, but it was never what we were looking for. We ended up at the lakefront lying on wooden steps. I don’t know why we didn’t lie in the sand; it would have...
