I’m angry. I want to punt a small child in the face… But that is morally incorrect. So I want to bash my face against something concrete. I feel like my head is teeming and steam is coming out of my ears. All I want to so is hurl a large breakable object across the room. I want someone to punch me so I have a reason to get unecessarily violent.
In other words: “oh … Yeah.. I’m just tired…”
I am sorry for the abuse and neglect over the past year or so. I am sorry for sleeping an average of 4 hours most nights (but why don’t you just go the fuck to sleep?!). Anyway, I’m sorry for the big macs, gorditas, chalupas, tall boys, 40s, *unknown substances*, and any other crap I might force through you. I’m sorry for not eating, until 4-5pm on weekends, because I can’t function well enough to move. I’m sorry for not talking you out for runs like I used to, and I’m sorry I forgot how to get my heart rate up in ways other than drunkenly dancing, or running to the train when I’m late.
You may hate me this week.. for throwing you into the great unknown, formerly we knew it as the gym. It’s an old friend.. Please shake hands and accept it back into your life.
And good news! Vegetarian month is almost over!
please love me again :)
xox
Sleep is Saturday mornings, sunlight through cracked blinds and the sound of gentle breathing
Sleep is the warm nook of a neck and an arm wrapped around me
Sleep is nude, dark, and hidden beneath sheets.
Sleep is being the little spoon, even if it gets too warm
Sleep is at 4am-10am-2pm
Sleep is interrupted only to readjust, to better appreciate “stolen space”
.. I just want to sleep.
people who seemingly have no emotions
mustaches
mice
fetishes
construction workers
whipped butter
avocados
the smell of latex
honey flavored anything
voicemails from unknown numbers
alien conspiracies
portapotties
back hair
people who don’t own nail clippers
the m train in bk past 10pm
Amazing photos of a family in the 1970’s that lived with a lion by Michael Rougier. (LIFE Archive)
(via geminigypsy-)
