“But 90 percent of love, even a man of science will volunteer, is illusion. In defense of love, a story we love, a person we love, is there anyone among us who has not closed his eyes and refused to see?” – The New York Times
Thing To Remember
“Before I am your daughter,
your aunt, niece, or cousin,
I am my own person,
and I will not set fire to myself
to keep you warm.”
— 1/? Things To Remember
[outfit post] Skirt Bloggers Wear
Me, working that “fashion blogger pose.”
I am not a fashion blogger. Obviously. (See my lazy-day, “The Girl Can’t Help It” post for proof.) However, I have recently discovered the secret to appearing just like one.
Own a leather skater skirt.
According to the Tumblog S**t Bloggers Wear (pardon my French), which has made it a mission to point out common fashion items that bloggers, well, we…
[poetry] I wrote this because I couldn’t sleep.
I want to love until my toes curl
and I “ugly smile”–all scrunched up eyes
and wrinkled nose
and too many teeth. I want to love
like an alt-rock anthem,
full of poetry everyone can feel,
even without understanding the words.
I want love like alcohol–
but like sobriety, because I want to love
knowing what I’m doing.
I want love like gravity:
not the fall, but how it anchors
so that I never…
Missing Enjonine/Epjolras Fanfiction
There’s a two-parter out there that I can’t quite find. Reminded me of Gayle Foreman’s “Where She Went” in a way. Eponine is a violinist, and Enjolras goes to Columbia as a law student. AU, obvs. I think Thea might have written it. Anyone have a link?
Your Puppet, Poppet
It’s been ten months.
Ten months since we came together, agreeing to become a single unit. I was happy, at first. Sometimes, I still am. But most days talking to you feels like a chore, like I’ve signed up for another job only this time I don’t get paid.
Submitting to authority is not a problem for me. Just as my actual boss, at work–she’ll tell you that I’ve never not followed her orders…
I Wish You’d Let Go
You were my friend. Emphasis on were, I guess, because as much as I’d like to stay friends–as much as friendships are precious to me and I hoard them like doomsday preppers hoard canned goods because their life depends on them (because my life does depend on them)–I can’t. I can’t talk to you anymore without second-guessing, without thinking twice, without wondering if I’m saying too little or…