I post more frequently on my Tumblr now – it is just more convenient because so many of the blogs I followed were Tumblr blogs so now they are conveniently on one dashboard rather than scattered in URLs that I sometimes forget.
You came over and I told you that I was okay to be alone tonight. I will be okay being alone tonight. But the way your eyes melt things like a stove top makes chocolate ooze takes it all, takes it all, makes it all a little harder.
The moment it happened my stomach smacked the floor. I thought of death. The moment after I was surrounded by two girls who watched, are watching, will watch me grow up. We drank and hugged and danced and the energy was radiant. It shot from my cheekbones, my hips, my lips.
The night ended and I was a drunken mess of mascara and knotted hair. I fell into bed and somebody fell with me but he could have been anyone because nobody else is you. But I bring this upon myself.
I left all of my schoolwork till the last minute, again. Procrastinating my obligations to the brink of insanity by anxiety – dammit, I’ll never understand it. But I bring that upon myself, too.
The first paper I have to turn in tomorrow is on Sylvia Plath’s “Morning Song.” The title sounds beautiful and so do the words till you realize what they’re all about. Saggy tits, decrepitness, moth holes and effacement. It’s awful and sad and wonderful. I wish I could enjoy it without the pressure of six pages.