October 2011
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I just want to stop thinking so I can stop wondering what the hell I’m doing.
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I wish I could make sense of things.
September 2011
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amicita:
I act smart? So I act white. So I can’t be black and be smart because black people are dumb? […] I will never equate stupidity with my melanin.
Kai Davis
Every time I see Kai.. she’s incredible.
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I’m just going to sit here and listen to Landon Pigg and drink my black-cherry-cranberry juice and continue to be generally nostalgic.
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I miss our group. I remember last year, over Thanksgiving break. I’d just met Nolan and he assimilated into our little faction perfectly.
I miss all of us being together. I think about it a lot.
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My college professor just graded my haikus, and I got a 4.5/5.
I don’t understand how you can grade a poem. Obviously, it’s easy to tell when something is simply just a bad poem, but it seems more of a pass-fail type judgement to me. Either it’s shit or it’s good. There aren’t really C’s in poetry; it’s either no good or great.
I can’t imagine how...
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Why does this Russian guy want to fuck me so bad?
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I’ve discovered that the more scarce I make myself, the more people pay attention to me when I actually am around.
I don’t know, is that bad social strategy?
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Sometimes I make ugly things to remind myself that I can, that they exist and that I can make them.
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Just keep realizing I don’t deserve jack shit.
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Infatuation feels good.
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Just spilled coffee on my editor's lap.
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A cup of coffee and a moaning fit later, and...
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I live at the top of the world.
I mean really, it’s this tiny town of eight hundred people that’s been forgotten in the peaks of the Rocky Mountains. Old people come here to die and young people come here to raise their kids; it’s safe. No murders or robberies, no gangs, not even a fucking stoplight. Or a fast-food restaurant or large store, for that matter.
The air is always...
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upsidebarcodes:
idk sometimes when you tell me I’m beautiful I just stop and believe you for a few minutes.
And then there’s the way you look at me or say that phrase that seems so fucking ridiculously concrete, like nothing else in the world has ever been real before.
It feels really, really good.
Wrote this exactly a month ago. Trois mons aujourd’hui.
[probably butchered that...
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If I took that twelve-font type and made it sixteen, would it be large enough for you to get the picture?
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I had to wash one of Kurt's shirts yesterday
because I spilled apple juice on it.
As I watched in spinning in the wash, I literally felt like dying. Oh my god it smells like something that is not Kurt.
I hate everything.
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bornahero asked: You look a lot like Phoebe Tonkin, ok
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Kurt told me that if we were going to hang out with Coty, I had to put real clothes on.
Well baby, if you’re reading this, I’m annoyed that you made me do my homework. So I’m not going to put a shirt on under this hoodie.
I DEFY YOU, STARS!
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I’ve got to stop having these temper attacks. I’m not a little child, and I’m not my father, and dammit I am not a mental illness.