.bejeweled.
(Source: mary-beth)
.can you tie it in a bow?
Seriously though, I am extremely cautious of white women and learned to keep them at a distance until I know they actually have a hold of their own whiteness, they can actually see me as a woman like them, and they can handle themselves and hold themselves responsible for…
.Ladies and gentlement…THIS.
.singular.
.fiend.
…THIS^ is another reason why I love her so.
(Source: domo-nation)
(Source: Spotify)
.this is how Harvey will live forever.
(Source: foxintwilight)
What the bloody fuck is wrong with me today? I feel like I am fighting regression and I can’t get a hold as to what humor I am trying not to slide back into? Can I possibly not give a fuck today and be okay with that? I can’t focus on work because I want to read. I can’t focus on reading because I want to write. I can’t focus on writing because I want to do. My hands are trembling ever so slightly. Taut in anticipation for…something. I feel like I am coiled up, ready to strike out. But this is not in retaliation or anger. I am ready to burst out into…something. Everything feels ephemeral. This body, these thoughts, this place. I am swimming in semi-conscious thought. I need to get a grip. I could barely get a wink of sleep last night. I kept feel this mounting in my chest and through my fingertips. It was a sensation similar to when I practiced too long on the violin and muscle memory was taking control. I miss those days. Yet, it seems like they are finding me again.
I am in a weird mood again. I could blame the heat, but I don’t think it is that. The next couple months are going to move rapidly. I am not sure it I am ready for it, but I have a lingering feeling that I won’t have much choice.