December 2010
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Fuck this. I’m fucking sick of it. I’m sick of being more uncomfortable in my own home than I am in someone else’s. I’m sick of the school-hour phone calls, the criticisms, the year-round opinions of people I only see once a year, the cookie cutter box shape that I guess I was “too large” to ever be able to fit into. I’m sick of being embarrassed and...
November 2010
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Yeah, well, I don’t care. It’s just about fucking up anyways....
– BTW; I’m Never Having Sex as a Woman.
I wrote this way too long ago
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POSITIVE ROLE MODEL: We are the dubstep... →
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havokcore:
…. That’s it? Out of all the other things the generations were known for?
WE SUCK.
I have to agree with Gaby here.
Other generations stood up for what they believed in. We don’t stand up for anything, unless all the couches at the shitty apartment party in Williamsburg are…
It’s beautiful to know that the two with the most common sense are...
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I need to create something amazing so fucking bad right now, I might scream my...
– My Frustration
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positiverolemodel:
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“I don’t think I’ve ever been more inspired to love somebody.”
Well fuck you, because now it’s too late.
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Sometimes...
… I get so lost in wanting the dreams of others that I forget what my own dreams actually are.
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Succeed
To be honest no, I don’t hope you fail.
I hope you make it - maybe just that once.
I want you to spend countless days and hours, to give up all the things that make you smile just so you can get it.
I want to to finally be in the aura of space where the lights are on you and it’s your turn, where the watchers have their hungry eyes on you and everything you can do.
I hope you can...
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POSITIVE ROLE MODEL: Gamble: a poem. →
positiverolemodel:
You are standing at the edge of a bed That doesn’t belong to you The bed is in a room You have never been in On the bed is a boy you have known For all of two hours His body, his phallus, is luminous in that special way, Like a newborn But miles away, there is the familiarity, There is a body you already know She’s waiting in the dark, displeased, pouting: Hills and valleys...
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Dignity
It was funny how, running my fingers against my whipples of hair, he continued to press the microphone to my lips to get all that I had to say out onto his camera and paper so he could tell the world and get a good week’s pay. Bills to pay and children to feed? Certainly, I’d been there before, and I wasn’t even so angry as he smeared my lipstick against his speaker so he...
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