December 2011
Updike
Soon the soft rhythm of his unconscious breathing rises from his side of the bed. On her side, she cannot sleep. Awake in every nerve she untangles her life. The traffic ebbs down below. She and Charlie float motionless above Brewer; he sleeps on the wind, his heart hollow. Next time she might not be able to keep him up. Miracles are granted but we must not lean on them. This love that has blow...
As he drove off, she waited a while before walking inside and instead sat on the porch in the front of her house. The neighborhood was deathly quiet; the kind of evening stillness that blanketed the suburbs at such an hour infused her mind with a slow, tranquil kind of movement. It was as if water was seeping through her membrane and soaking her memory with thoughts she could not bear to...
even though you can't read this
i guess what i wanted to say was that i do love you and i am sorry and there’s nothing left to say except that i am still grateful we can breathe the same air as each other and expose our pain in the same, familiar ways
I Miss You, Smith College
kalon101:
Our commencement program, a window into the Smith experience:
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how my father responds to affection:
me: “merry christmas daddy!”
da: “811 nazis were executed in comparison to 6 million jews. horrifying ratio.”
to my lovely sister:
i really do love you to pieces, but if you do not cease to sing an incredibly botched version of adele’s (already horrifying) ‘someone like you,’ i may have to end you.
nellrazor:
I used to think I was judgmental but then I hung out with my mother and my sister.
In between sung phrases of music, litanies of ailments, shrieking imitations of each other and festering resentment, I can almost eke out a relationship.
SO TRUE/THIS IS REAL/OMG I MISS YOU
There was so much and yet, there was not enough. This was the way things would always be for her, and she knew that. And for now, that was quite all right. That was okay.
“i am, in fact, in love with the feminist ideal of “get used to being...”
– dorothy allison, notes to a young feminist (via karaj)
“I always wonder why birds stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere on...”
– Harun Yahya (via queerfatfemme)
