February 2012
45 posts
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You're nothing special.
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OMG, Brandi found a puppy! THERE IS A PUPPY ON MY DASH!!!!!!!!!
*flails*
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You are a self-fulfilling prophecy. Don't cry when...
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Quitting
punctuatethis:
That is the fundamental problem with writing: If you want your words to have any life whatsoever they cannot be held onto. Writing is a private thing, and it is hard, but there comes a time when you must stop shielding your words from all of the terrible things the world will say about them and let them out into the air to breathe.
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On the outside looking in again. I can’t help you from here. I can’t help you from in there either. That’s your job. But I can be here. I can support you. I can be a crutch when you need it.
But you don’t want it. You want to give up.
Why should I be any different?
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Listen
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“When you love a woman, there should be absolutely no hesitation to keep her...”
– R.K.L
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“I don’t have a choice, but I still choose you.”
– The Civil Wars, Poison and Wine
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My current addiction...
nowhere-inparticular:
SHHHH. THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE GIF.
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Touch Me
Give me true, gritty intimacy. Write me something. Sway me with the written word. Forget your fingertips, move me with adjectives. Caress me with alliteration and perfectly placed punctuation. Make me climax with a deadly combination of impeccable grammar and breathtaking imagery.
You fumble too much when we’re physical. Be graceful and write me something. Leave your mark.
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The Perfect Country and Western Song - Part One
“You don’t have to call me darlin’, darlin’.”
He’s like a damn country song. Lamb of God beats through his veins along with that shitty ska music I loathe with every fiber of my being, but as far as description goes, he is a country song. A sappy love-done-wrong song, too. The bittersweet kind that leaves cavities all over, as it were. He’s a fool, and...
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Lights will guide you home And ignite your bones...
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Listen
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AU
My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was twelve. She fought it. Went into remission a couple times. Just before I got my driver’s license, it was back again. And before I knew it, she’d passed away two months shy of my seventeenth birthday. But I’ll always remember those days. She was so sick, she reminded me of a zombie. Her cheekbones were protruding and every bone in her body...
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Socket
ordinarywonder:
She is an electrical socket that he can’t resist — poking with the fork of his curiosity. It takes such little effort to penetrate her, but you’re in for the kind of shock that makes your hair stand up on end. The kind of jolt that can knock you back against a wall. The kind of spark that will burn you from the inside, out. Electricity is not a toy; her desire is not grounded....
Differing Degrees of Fine
punctuatethis:
“I have no interest in refining my tastes and affectations. I hope I never become one of those people who is in the business of teaching himself how to like things less. For my part, it would seem to me the greatest gift to be of no educated sensibility whatsoever, to spend the greater portion of my years teaching myself only how to confront my life in a manner that disturbs me...
Of everyone, I wanted to lose you the least.
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Debate.
My creativity has hit a new low. Obviously. I don’t even particularly care at this point. I’m currently trying to decide whether to keep this account or not. I guess we’ll see.
In the meantime, maybe I’ll manage to write something for the five of you to read.
Cross your fingers, kiddies. You know… if you care.
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“If someone is encouraging you to let them go, do not clutch them tighter. Leave....”
– J
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Tired.
I’m tired of staring at this screen with nothing to fill the blankness.
I think I’ll go study my eyelids.
“If a girl is silent, it’s dangerous. She’s either over-thinking,...”
What happens if you fall in love with a writer? →
boomboxdiction:
saaraeliisavaris:
feels-:
sleepingtigers:
Lots of things might happen. That’s the thing about writers. They’re unpredictable. They might bring you eggs in bed for breakfast, or they might all but ignore you for days. They might bring you eggs in bed at three in the morning. Or they might wake you up for sex at three in the morning. Or make love at four in the afternoon....
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Let me go.
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Why happy sucks:
I’ve come to notice that I can’t write a fucking thing when I’m happy. I can’t write much at all normally, but it’s so much worse when I’m happy.
January 2012
103 posts
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Dear Anon,
Oh, you know who you are. Do me a favor and get a bit more creative instead of DOGGEDLY asking the same stupid question over and over and over again.
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