all i do is take long naps and then wake up and want to kill myself and either lay in bed crying or pop a few zyrtec and go back to sleep. i hate everything and i hate art and what the fuck am i gunna write on my senior page? “fuck all of you”
i wish all of life could be one of those weird sublime moments that i can’t describe, i’ve written some down, like looking at streetlamps reflected on the window pane in remington 2 am, kitchen embrace interrupted- no eye contact open the freezer fleeting image of a fish skeleton compresses this memory because it’s too big, chewing bubblegum in mt. vernon park listening to bjork before class
life is not all like that but i wish it was and i’m going to try really hard to make it that way, or at least have it weave in and out of those hyperaware moments and a trancelike state that usually happens when i’m making art or really absorbed in an essay i’m writing or a book i’m reading.
i hope to fill this summer with pictures and paintings and embroidery over stains, embroidery over stains is actually a nice ideal for my entire life, they play each other up nicely
i promise to spend lots of time outside even if its gross out and to love my friends extra before we all part. and to get ready to step into my new grown up shoes that will be waiting for me in august- living in a real house without my parents buying my own food and living my own life. i’m so excited:)
Please, someone make it so Santorum repeats exactly this to a scientist. Please, please, I’ll do anything to make this happen.
That might be the stupidest fucking thing I have ever read.
woah he is right!!
Fifteen ways to stay alive
1. Offer the wolves your arm only from the elbow down. Leave tourniquet space. Do not offer them your calves. Do not offer them your side. Do not let them near your femoral artery, your jugular. Give them only your arm.
2. Wear chapstick when kissing the bomb.
3. Pretend you don’t know English.
4. Pretend you never met her.
5. Offer the bomb to the wolves. Offer the wolves to the zombies.
6. Only insert a clean knife into your chest. Rusty ones will cause tetanus. Or infection.
7. Don’t inhale.
8. Realize that this love was not your trainwreck, was not the truck that flattened you, was not your Waterloo, did not cause massive hemorrhaging from a rusty knife. That love is still to come.
9. Use a rusty knife to cut through most of the noose in a strategic place so that it breaks when your weight is on it.
10. Practice desperate pleas for attention, louder calls for help. Learn them in English, French, Spanish: May Day, Aidez-Moi, Ayúdame.
11. Don’t kiss trainwrecks. Don’t kiss knives. Don’t kiss.
12. Pretend you made up the zombies, and only superheroes exist.
13. Pretend there is no kryptonite.
14. Pretend there was no love so sweet that you would have died for it, pretend that it does not belong to someone else now, pretend like your heart depends on it because it does. Pretend there is no wreck — you watched the train go by and felt the air brush your face and that was it. Another train passing. You do not need trains. You can fly. You are a superhero. And there is no kryptonite.
15. Forget her name. Daphne Gottlieb (via cuntext)
life is looking up because….
-there are so many great places to end up next year
-there is so much art in my head
-i know such wonderful people
-life is finally actually beginning, it’s already begun. 18 in 6 weeks will mean a lot. leaving home in the fall whether for college or work will mean a lot. this summer will mean a lot. and it all means nothing and so much and it will all be a great memory.