“I sit here thinking about how much courage it takes to live an ordinary life…I say to myself, That’s okay—this is real, this is something I can handle, I’m just sitting here, I’m not doing anything bad. And then I leave because I can’t accept the brokenness.“ – Colum McCann, Let The Great World Spin.
Month: June 2011
Seriously. His portfolio looks like this?
Definite evidence of Steve Almond’s beauty gradient. If you know what I’m talking about, I love you.
Marilyn Manson’s exes. Lucky Bastard.
Has this been an issue for me with partners in the past? Hell to the yeah. Terms are always a weird topic to go over. You feel so vulnerable presenting what you want. You’re not even sure it’s what you want half the time and you keep going over it in your head wondering if you can handle that or if that isn’t nearly enough. Terms of any kind of relationship are that way, I suppose. But when it comes to something of this nature, its “tabooness” and the associated discomfort factor in a lot. The emotional drain. The urges. The constant fluctuation of libido. The interplay of intention (for sexual gratification, for fun, for power, for love). It’s all a lot to handle.
gpoy.
I love this photograph for the mismatched pillows, the open laptop, the messy bedside table. It feels so authentic and incredibly natural.
Beards make me weak in the knees xxx
Back in high school, I used to keep my mild obsessive-compulsive tendencies in order by growing and tending plants on the shelf by the kitchen window. I kept on top of those bitches like crazy. I trimmed them with these little scissors, I watered them just so, I repotted when needed.
I re-watched Secretary recently and noticed that Mr. Grey was a bit of a nut about his plants, too. Even more meticulous than I. Which got me thinking, “hm, do I have a mild dominant streak that I take out on potted plants?”
Nah. I’m just anal.
Sure, she looks ravishing, but why would you ruin her with such poor Scotch?
(via wonderlandcode831)
The Southern Gentleman once said I reminded him of Phyrne.
I’d never heard that one before.
“You’re attractive. You’re artistic. A lot of people would consider your lifestyle to be indecent."
I could handle that. I was even flattered.
"Oh, and you’ve got awesome tits.”
Ding ding ding.
I think he’s the only friend of mine who could ever get away with comparing me to a BC-era prostitute. (Okay, okay, she was courtesan. So she didn’t get paid.)
Hey, followers. I’m just checking in from my remote, rainy location to let you know that things are going quite well. While I do have internet here, I do not foresee myself going on tumblr a whole lot. Once again, the queue is clearly working.
But, yes, it rains like crazy here. And I keep getting caught in it at really inopportune times.
Most of it is waiting on those kinds of days. Hearing them walk through the house, hearing their conversations, hearing the water run, the doors open and close, the dishes slide into the washer. Hearing their phones ring, hearing their keys clack against the table, hearing chairs being pulled out, pushed in. And waiting.