February 2011
2 tags
January 2011
crystalmethsuperstar:
Dear Xanax,
I don’t even need to write you a letter because married couples don’t do that sort of thing.
Love your husband.
stfucolink-deactivated20120209 asked: we have the same theme. fight to the death? hugging competition? coincidence of brilliant minds?
2 tags
crepuscular swagger: When Sam sings in the car,... →
crepuscularswagger:
When Sam sings in the car, it’s not the idle singing of a teenager. Sam is always singing to Jay. Jay’s Camaro is dark and gray and much quieter than its noisy engine. Jay’s hair is black, and his eyes are locked with his voice in a constant battle for overwhelming depth. His baritone enchants…
Unapologetic, emerging from gray-black shadows, shame-chic, leather skin laughing. A pronoun claiming space justly, blushing erotic with two shaking thighs. Rise, ascension, exodus from cobwebbed corners. Emigration, an immigrant, like teeth growing into my head.
llenyharth asked: your writing makes my days and my nights.you are awesome.
2 tags
“He just didn’t want to be small anymore. So she did what he asked. It...”
– Paint it Black by Janet Fitch
I would rather be an interesting drunken mess than a dull sober one.
All us uglies are adopted somewhere, a public service announcement.
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Because Matt Hawthorne said I could.
i tried to set my goals but they slipped.
i’m the person to speak to with words you’ll regret come morning.
3 tags
Almost anonymously messaged Jackson Jawbreaker asking if we could have homosexual intercourse. Good thing I stopped at the last minute.
Why do people kiss in pornography: you’re not getting paid to be in love.
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I’m taking auditions for my next boyfriend. All you have to do is talk with your mouth full.
Passive aggression is better than unhealthy obsession.
internetvirgin:
why do people expect me to have a sense of guilt, morality, conscience, or concern for anyone other than myself?
are there people who actually have all of that? i think everyone fakes it and i’m just too lazy to fake it.
1 tag
I’m too sober to be this lonely.
Less fawning, more fucking.
3 tags
katiefuckingdrewdeactivated-dea asked: Nick, you are the most discerning man to have ever walked into my life. I've never gotten a chance to sit down and properly give my gratitude for the faultless psychoanalysis, they way you effortlessly pull my thoughts apart only to piece them back together into a work of art and just being an all around amazing friend. I love you more than I can even fathom.
We are gluttonous people. Full of the paper we eat to be perfect. Full of some stranger’s dick to feel valid. Full of shit because the peace we want is never coming, but we try to be good enough anyway.
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I’ll make the full post (with pictures!) later tonight, but I got an amazing package in the mail a moment ago, I just need everyone to know how much I absolutely, totally, and completely love KC.
1 tag
fuckyeahsweetmusic:
louiserr:
I really fucked...
I could play your body like a cello carved from balsa wood and the railings of staircases in houses older than our every memory of the war. If only you’d let me sharpen the bow, I swear I can show you what I’m made of.
are you ready to come clean? then come to me with your broken arms and yellow teeth. I’ll take you in, malnourished infant, feed you my tongue from the honeysuckled bottle. Pressed together soft parts like daisies in gilded books, we’ve got nothing but stomachs and semen below the belt.
My bones crack when I think of the pretty things I could say to you, but only in the darkness where you can feel my skin against your teeth and I whisper in those perfect ears, “I know where you sleep and your bones must be so fragile. You love me more than God and the devil, can I see them?”
When I die, put my ashes in the bridge they’re reconstructing downtown so you can run all over me like usual. I wouldn’t want to disrupt your routine, would I?
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-furious -hedonist -destructive -masochist -listless -solopsist -broken -linguist -darling -your -heart’s -my -carnage -now (I just wanted to leave you with some words that are beautiful.)
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itskevinellis asked: All of that 'shit' that you write makes my day on a consistent basis.
Never stop, please.
Never stop, please.
You don’t look so high and mighty with your head between my legs.
2 tags
I hate musicians and I hate trucks and I hate honesty. But I’m going to lose these twenty-five pounds, rattle my skeleton bones in your face, fuck you with my eyes open and leave in the morning with a clear conscience, soft lips, chapped legs. Oh, and did I mention I hate trust and love more than anything?
boyzinthahood asked: I sent you things yesterday:) I hope that they arrive soon! be careful opening it though, because there may or may not be an EXPLOSION of glitter:)
2 tags
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Cynical and Beautiful.: Sex-Free February! →
twofagsandahag:
Post by: Stacey (evenmyegoispink) I started this last year, when I was going through a time of lowered sensitivity, boring sexual experiences, and I hit a point in which I was masturbating cause I felt like I had nothing else to do. That’s not okay. Of course there were…
I’m doing it correctly this time around.
1 tag
Rigor mortis (n.): Muscular stiffening following death.
“Shortly after death all the muscles in the body become soft and flaccid. At a variable time later, they become firm and rigid. This is known as rigor mortis. Rigor commences in the smallest muscles such as those in the face and the hands, and then extends to the limb muscles. Rigor can be ‘broken’ by stretching the muscle, for example...
I’m already dreading the funeral tomorrow. I’ll be storing a Xanax stash and taking notes. Maybe I can use it for all this writing I’m not doing. Maybe it’s an excuse to get fucked up around members of my dad’s family I’ve never met.
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crystalmethsuperstar:
BITCHES DON’T EXIST TO ME THEY’RE ALL CUM FACED SLUTS, HOW’S THERE ROOM IN YOUR MOUTH FOR MY NAME WITH ALL THE DICK YOU SUCK?
- “Bilingual,” Remy Ma. All I really want to see is blood on the concrete. Bodies in bags and flowers on caskets, corpses swarming with flies and maggots. Innocent boys and girls turned into bastards, I want bitches to die deaths that...