Posts tagged quoted
there’s only one rule
that i know of, babies -
“god damn it,
you’ve got to be kind.”
ps – did you get your tickets? to the cloud show?
would be a choice twitter bio.
u feel, moody ghost?
how i think about you,
how i hope you think about me.
sometimes i can’t crack my own code.
bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,
but to be young was very heaven.
let me give you some advice:
try to approach things
without preconceived ideas,
without supposing you already know
everything there is to know about them.
get that trick down and you’ll be surprised
at what’s really all around you.
your iphone pocket-called me the other day.
you were walking.
i could hear your legs moving.
i was in your pants, after all, with the phone.
swip swip. swip swip. swip swip.
very rhythmic. soothing.
i listened in for a while.
i was hoping for a scrap of inappropriate conversation.
i like to overhear things that hurt me.
i got nothing.
you were just going somewhere.
we are all frazzled and unruly, you and me. we are desperate and wistful and restless and funny and frayed at the edges. we can worry that we’re doing it all wrong, we can long for central air or true love or a view of the ocean, and that’s just part of the fucking clown show. we can be ingrates and role models, we can be flinchy and heroic, we can be courageous and also melancholy. there is nothing wrong with feeling unsafe and uncertain. there is nothing wrong with addled, misguided parenting, or self-involved rambling. i give you permission, my friend, to continue on this twisted, sweet path of suffering and satisfaction and distraction. i give you my blessing, my partner in failing at everything. i am witness to your grace and your faltering. i give you my undying love, as you struggle and stutter and the sun falls from the sky.
when the earth stops spinning, we will panic. there is no avoiding it. we’ll be crying and shaking, just like that woman at the side of the road, wondering if we did it the right way. we’ll wonder if we failed ourselves, or failed each other, if we were a big disappointment, in the end.
please remember, we were not a disappointment. not at all, not even close. we were gorgeous and strong, you and me. we were terrible and troubled and utterly divine.
(1) in october, i bought a block of 20 classes which cost exactly one million dollars. now i go like three times a week. over a year this works out to all the money i can imagine in my brain in one go.
(2) some clothes have a skull on them. it looks like badassery that roller derby girls would be hyped on. and everybody knows roller derby girls are depressing as fuck.
(3) nothing beats soulcycle for dumbing all the way out or re-calibrating a mood in less than an hour which is reassuring since i typically wake up in a panic that’s candy-coated with a low-grade rage.
(4) they also sell you water for $2 but i bring my own because they can fuck themselves straight to hell if they think they’re draining any more goddamned money from me.
(5) most of the instructors are pretty good but i avoid all the ones who like mashups because they’re disgusting monsters who need to pull it together.
(6) you will suck really hard the first five times you go and then you get better. between time one and three you get a lot better while remaining in the suck category … mostly, it’s hard to follow along while you want to barf out of your eye ducts.
(7) soulcycle feels gross, is gross and i’m grateful to have found it.
“ … get up, walk to a plant store, and pick out a plant you really like. take it home and set it by the window, and water it every single morning while you’re waiting for your coffee to be done. you are a regular pretty lady living a regular life, and this is the very beginning of your story. stay open to the world around you. pay attention to people who aren’t bullet-proof brands. give some time to those who make you work a little harder to see them clearly, to let them in. you are raw potential, but you’ll only stay golden if you give up on glory and show the world your true goofy, unwashed, brutal, brilliant, opinionated, vulnerable self. make them work harder for it. and if they’re not offering you the deal you want, be prepared to walk.”
how many times
we let them go,
they come back.
the words that matter
i could relate to my breakfast.
i was fried.
i was scrambled.
i was fresh squeezed.
to be loved.
i love you when
you are asleep,
or in the yard,
or at work,
or out with your friends.
for an answer.
some people don’t even realize they’re bitter. if you don’t know whether you are or not, here’s a quick quiz you can give yourself. if you ever wake up in the morning and the first thing you say is, “oh, fuck, not again,” …
you might be a little bitter.
when they tell you
exactly what they think is wrong
and how to fix it,
they are almost always →
the illustrations above are from a nsfw(ish) series by grégoire guillemin called the secret life of heroes. of course, i found grégoire’s series just as the office maildude decided to drop a package off at my desk. of course, i was stuck on the one of superwoman deep throating a banana (of course). in other news, my coral plimsoll sneakers arrived.
anonymous:..does there come a point in being a success when the laurels get heaped so high that you just kind of fall ass-backwards onto it and have a rest? or is everything exhausting, forever?
richard lawson:..christ i can’t wait to fall ass-backwards onto laurels.
a form of wealth.
- bonnie friedman
act ii, scene ii.
new job, second wed.