“they Were Flirting With You” And How Was I Supposed To Know Such A Thing When Everyone Speaks In

hope you motherfuckers go bankrupt for real this time

tenderly removes your vocal cords

Gonna sound insane but I actually rlly don’t understand the rampant obsession with becoming famous/ going viral that’s rampant in so many ppl today regardless of age. As I get older, everyday I wish to share less of myself and less of my work. I want to be alone with the people I love and surrounded by safe and loving connection. I want a life where I’ve released my burdens and my heart is full with love. I just want to come home to the man I feel at home with and make dinner before we both fall asleep on the couch. I don’t want to be known beyond that, not even on a local level.

"tragedies: the love was there"

u ever see someone with extremely fucked up views (or actions) and think wowww if a couple of things in my life went the tiniest bit differently that would have been me

"I would kill for you. I would die for you" would you take a break for me? Would you sit down and rest? For a day, a week, a year? Would you let others take care of your needs for me? Would you let yourself be held for me? By me?

Us, arriving to Austria to a tiny family hotel owned by an elderly lady

Us: speak only limited German

Lady: barely speaks English

Us:

Lady:

Lady: Czech? Slovak?

Us: Czech

Lady, to herself: Czech, that's a Slavic language right

Lady: understand Yugoslavian?

Us:

Us: yeah that works

Pink Calcite from chenzhou prefecture Hunan province China

Photo: Future Mineral

all day, a breeze dances in and out of the apartment. the windows, wide open. the sky gets dark around 7, and I turn on a low lamp and light two candles, content in the half-dim living room. a rain rolls in and I can hear the long-dry earth breathe a wet sigh of relief under its shower. the tv stays hushed and sleeping. my dishes from dinner wait in the sink. the candlelight flickers shadows across my notebooks. after a nap by my side, the dog pads over to the window for a better listen of the cars slicking over street puddles.

I've missed this. living alone. the way a night deepens my solitude. how each decision through the day has come to this: a quiet apartment, save for the sounds of my typing. four walls, warm and dim and perfumed by the sky just beyond it. I've missed this, closing down the kitchen on my own. watching the space around me fall asleep. comforted by the knowledge that I made this feel like home. I made this feel nice for me. every corner, a letter of self-love.

God bless Deadpool.