seriously, i wanna know how many people don’t smoke.
“Sarah, beware. I have been generous up until now, but I can be cruel.”
“Generous? What have you done that’s generous?”
“EVERYTHING. Everything that you wanted, I have done. You asked that the child be taken, and I took him. You cowered before me and I was frightening. I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations of me. Isn’t that generous?”
“I ask for so little. Just let me rule you, and you can have everything that you want. Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave.”
Nonsense is a verbal communication or written text that is spoken or written in a human language or other symbolic system but lacks any coherent meaning.
I’m becoming uncomfortable with how often I tell you I love you. We both know its truth, but I’m beginning to think that you believe me a little to easily. Don’t fall. I might be too small to catch you, no matter how hard I try, and the distance doesn’t help my sight nor aim.
I’m still here and I feel your eyes, but my mind is gone and my heart’s for keeps. You don’t know what you’re doing; sending those little winged minions down into my guts. So afraid, yet I’m so calm. These articulate minds make me jealous, and I’m standing here wobbling at the knees, as if my flesh were bright green Jell-o. All turned around, about, upside down, still in the same position. Why must things be so complicated? Reticulated as if we were spiders making our homes in the empty souls of the past. That may be all behind us, but I’m not the same, and I cannot let this happen again. Peaceful and disoriented, I’m spinning and twirling on a cloud of confusion, being dragged into an illusion that this might actually work out. We both know it won’t. How can it?
I have this overwhelming urge to tell you what I wish. But my wishes will never be granted, either way, and what’s the use? To drag you along, pull you in, too? We don’t need another to be drowned in this commotion, though we might like the company. By we I mean I, but still you should stay above the surface where it’s safe to play. Don’t you break your bones and your organs and bubbles, remain in the air and away from these troubles, they’re nothing but heartache. It’ll only end in heartbreak.
I have this overwhelming urge to love you. To be with you and kiss and caress you, to know you better than anyone else, to see you just as you see yourself, and make you look through my eyes at your very own skin. To know exactly how many sugars, memorize each dimple and freckle and scar. I want to know who you really are. I want to know what it’s like to lie under your covers, writhing and curling and wrapping and warming. I wish to be closer, I wish to be near, I wish to be rid of all these fears and these gears and restrictions they’ve built up just to keep me here. Locked up inside my very own cage.
So I’ll dance for you, rant for you, speak to you sweetly. I’ll let you know now that I care for you deeply. But I won’t tell you how much. I’ll keep that a secret.
This is so legit.
I just had a giggle fit the size of Texas. (:
Physician, Washington State (via petitefeministe)
There’s a really great article about this exact phenomenon: The Only Moral Abortion is My Abortion
1. People that try to insult you and you’re just like
2. Someone tries so hard to be funny but they aren’t
3. People walk so slow in the hallways and you can’t walk past them so you’re stuck behind them
4. You find out you have a quiz today
5. When you get picked to answer a question but you didn’t even raise your hand