my fingers and blankets are probably covered in toilet germ
also, shopping in boystown is a drag. I sort of h8 it.
so i’m effortlessly working hard to get on this teacher’s good side and she shall be my artistic doula, and i have an inkling that there will be something to appreciate about each other down the road, and today i have the dollar large iced coffee at dunkin donuts and it had me feelin funky and i’m still off and have to be at chicago state in the AM so wish me luck randos, with me luck
It takes courage to grow up and turn out to be who you really are.
This (I am 95% sure) was taken on the ship that I spent my summer on. This makes my life so happy. <3
SAS for my summer semester is starting so soon. I’m so nervous!!!!!
It was my cunt, too—not the velvet one, of course, but the center one with the hanged man attached to it. That same summer, my sister and I turned detective and held the spy glass over the ants and discovered they were busy planning hoaxes. Everything I do, I do because I know I am dying. My most favorites of things are optical illusions. We don’t become senile or “lose our minds,” it’s just that as we get older, we have more to think of in less time-we must think of more in a compressed amount of time. I think I know now what you’ve tried to teach me, that poetry is an instant, an instant in which transcendence is achieved, where a miracle occurs and all of one’s knowledge, experience, memories etc. are obliterated into awe. Is anything I say real? And by real, I mean sincere—or is everything an attempt to have love? I know now why the line breaks: it is because something dies, and elsewhere, is born again…
I suppose we were merely on loan in each other’s lives; these last years have already broken their secrets, have already gone out ahead and beyond us, reaching their conclusions: the present was beautiful in my not knowing. There are some sufferings as crimson and fallen, vibrant as autumn’s tremblings.