So, I hit a really major milestone work-wise in school. While it’s totally knocked the energy out of me, I’m very proud of myself.

As a reward, I’m spending tonight in and getting some well-deserved rest and relaxation. 


Well, good thing other sexy tumblrs are writing out my fantasies for me so I don’t have to. 

Now somebody get me something to fan myself with.


You know why I’ve made you kneel on a towel pet?

It goes like this. I’m going to talk to you, I’m going to whisper sinful things in your ear. I’m going to tease you with words but I will not touch you.

You see there will be no touching until you have dripped your honey on the towel. 

Do you understand now pet? Just nod and listen.


I’m getting close to the final shove. I could really use someone to make me…focus. Sure, I know I need to develop that skill in myself a bit better. But, a girl can fantasize.


“O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart.”
– W. H. Auden, “As I Walked Out One Evening”.


“This is more for you than it is for me, really,” he told her as he straightened the headphones over her ears. “I know where it takes you.”


Ugh, I feel you, Heart.

I was just having a conversation today with someone very close to me about this. I have this horrible tendency to just bury my upset and disappointment with people and situations in other people. And lately I’ve been trying to tap into the resolve that I know I have and the strength that I completely underestimate and make positive, lasting change within myself.

I go out of my way to appease people that I love and I suppose part of that is so I’m reassured that I’ll never have to be alone. But, it seems like loneliness creeps up as a reflex, despite how many people I have around me, to handle real upset in a more immediate way. Somehow, feeling lonely and then quickly solving that by finding someone to come pick things up for me is nowhere near as effective as picking things up myself, but it’s so much easier.

Someone else I recently expressed this to told me that I was growing up. That’s a nice way to look at it. It makes me feel optimistic about the whole thing.


I hate that I have so much love in my life but I feel so alone sometimes. There’s this little voice that says “You need someone to fix this, someone to scoop you up and make you feel all better.”

I’m trying to just sit with that voice instead of scrambling for my phone to find someone to take care of me. I’m trying to teach it that it’s my job to make me feel better. When I let everyone else do it it’s just superficial, and eventually these feelings just come roaring back. I have to learn to stand on my own two feet, without distractions and delegating.

It’s hard.


(via davidcliffordphoto)


They took her someplace where she could be herself, regardless of what that looked like. 


Your presence is foreign, as strange to me as a thing.
I think, I explore great tracts of my life before you.

You’re a fabulous idea.

It’s funny how you can grow before me, grow on me. I have not suffered entirely getting to know you, I think. Maybe I’ve blushed a few times. Maybe I’ve felt a bit disoriented by some of those long, deliberate silences. Maybe I’ve stumbled over a few words when I’m not nearly as careful as I could be.

But you’re harmless as just an idea. You’re nice to think about. You grow in a different way when I simply think about you. Not nearly as dynamically, but in a way that I can tend. Until there’s you and there’s the idea of you. And you’re a wonderful idea. But you’re much better when you’re not.

Because perhaps the only thing stronger than an idea is when that idea takes shape, however sufferable. As the pieces fall together, I like you better than the idea of you. It becomes harder to remember you as you were before you existed, because I seem to enjoy more the fact that you exist.


Just got through with a major deadline (early!!!) and I feel so relieved.

But, alas, another is coming up Friday.

Time to keep shoving on.