Sea salt and linen

I’m breathing in sea salt. My fingers are see through filled with light and my hair is a balloon for the wind. I don’t feel the wind on my waist playing with the corners of my shirt. I barely understand the reflections of lights as we fly through the tunnel. The darkness doesn’t feel real compared to the sun.

My first summer being me began this way. I didn’t feel the world, I was luminescent in my ignorance. I look back on the moments I captured from those fleeting seconds with wonder. How did I feel so alive? How could I feel everything so vividly? Was it even real?

Light prancing across the wall, laying on soft sheets with just the right amount of warmth and body. I felt his arm caress my hip, tensing and relaxing at the right points. Woods have the same pine smell. It isn’t as fresh as it was a few hours ago when we playfully teased each other across a table. We both knew we were going to fuck, why not just get on with it.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing…I don’t have to”

“You don’t have to think? Of course you do.”

“ I have a good body up against me and that’s all I need, thoughts are pointless.” His lips nearly spill the words. I feel him playing with the tips of my hair that cover his chest.

I should feel like a doll. I should feel used, scarred, abused. Why do we never feel used when we are using?

Romance. The taupe linen and freshly done face. The flowers and scent of sweetness. This exists in black and white films with main actresses dancing across the screen and gazing into the eyes of America’s war heros. It lay somewhere in the perfect 1.5 inch curls and the toxic hair spray soaked in her hair. Maybe even in the beauty mark dotted on her cheek. It isn’t that romance is a luxury I can’t afford, it is one I don’t desire. Romance is the idolization of the normal, the hiding of the truth behind a prism of lies ranging from massive to irrelevant.

The habit of smoking never appealed to me. Neither did tattoos or nose rings. They seemed extreme, irrational and blunt expressions of your mind. They lacked the crispness of chaste expulsions. I’d stare at the people casually lighting their death rolls with disgust. Now I find myself fighting the desire to stand in the tobacco aisle for longer than 10 minutes. I picture myself dying my hair, shaving it off, piercing every hole in my body and tattooing on the grotesque. I wonder what I’d be like if I were that person. If I took risks, I ran on impulse and love. We all have a story to share, but I always have planned mine. 


Sometimes all you need in life is a good playlist and a cup of wine


Sometimes all you need in life is a good playlist and a cup of wine

(via alienaided)

Friendzone is paradise

Dear best dude friend,

You’re in the friendzone. You always have been and will most likely always be. The reason you are there isn’t because you’re ugly/undateable/terrible human being. Actually you’re the opposite. You’re so kind and compassionate and understanding. You don’t pretend to care about things you don’t. You put me in place when I’m freaking out. You’re always there for me. And that’s why you’re in the friend zone, because that’s what we both hae always wanted.

So I have to say that your stolen glances and you watching me admiringly while I sprawl like a troll when we watch interesting movies, and your hinting references. They suck. Cut that shit out. It feels like I’m getting hit on by my not attractive cousin…the one with no tact for life and has a hitler mustache. Like I may awkwardly laugh when you make references about us dating but it seriously is the most awkward silence I have ever had to fill. It’s so awkward that its actually infuriating.

It’s so freaking infuriating because you’ve been there through the high and the terrible lows. I cried in your car for 3 freaking hours before. My basement is like your second home. Wev gotten in fights that end with me screaming “at least I have a personality outside a textbook you asshole.” And slamming a car door… You were also the one who convinced me to text him first. To move on. To stop fucking pitying myself and grow a pair. You’ve literally saved me from getting in trouble with the law a few times too… Dude you’re my dude best friend and I’m your chick best friend. Cut the shit and remember that we’ve been each others person for 4 years and that’s not changing.

With sometimes hateful love,


Never say that this isn’t cute. Because then you would be lying. Red pandas are too adorable for your lies.

(Source: superwholocked-in-albion)

Loving fear

I’m usually not one to openly gush but today was honestly one of the best days of my life. Yet somehow I feel like something was missing

I hadn’t seen him or more than 2 weeks because of my trip to the Grand Canyon and research work. (Pictures coming soon of Road Trip 2013). I missed our 6 month and his birthday so today was going to be one gigantic celebration date/day. He picked me up at 9 and we cuddled in a park, went for a long walk, had a picnic, went to see “Now you See Me” and then cuddled some more followed by a delicious dinner at my favorite Osaka Grill, followed by more cuddling and attempted star gazing. It was a perfect day. And every time I would look up at him he would smile at me and kiss my forehead and make me laugh. I’m thoroughly in love and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Yet today I felt something that really bothers me. I felt reservation. I have never felt reserved around him, not once. I was the one that sat down and introduced myself to him. I was the one who got to know him and at times had to show him what a relationship should be. I was never the one with fears. Yet I feel fear. I felt the fear of not knowing what the reservations were and why I had them. I love him more than anything, and after thinking about that more I realized that the fear is exactly that. Letting go. Taking faith in people. Truly. Falling.

It’s like the inner weather beaten heart is attempting to hold on to just one last reservation in attempt to deter me from truly giving of myself. It holds me back with the threat of all lose, of desolation, emptiness. Feelings not new to me.

However through my “faith” if that’s what you can call it and my experience, I’ve learned that fear is the fodder for a life I don’t want. Fear of the unknown and past experience is the soul of a monster I don’t want to feed. So instead Im going to cut the supply of fear to the cancerous tumors attempting to take a hold in my heart and instead, hunt fear through the courage of my mind. Instead of being the prey, I will focus on making myself into the predator of fear by loving it. Loving the feeling that makes us run is the only too solace from ones inner demons, and for me, giving him what is rightfully his. My whole heart.