February 2012
284 posts
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fromaplacewithin replied to your post: fromaplacewithin replied to your photo: .photoset…
I grew up with the sea by my window. It is such a comforting space to sleep, play, grow in. With all its vastness, compromising your abilities to touch any part of it but the shore. And of course the secret thoughts which only the sea can bare.
This. Yes, everything you say and more.
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fromaplacewithin replied to your photo: .photoset .photoset_row { width: 500px;…
This is beautiful..
There is a certain beauty to the cold, grey Atlantic. I find it quite inspiring actually. This is where I grew up, and the sea is such a profound part of me.
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Driving down to the ocean.
Be back in a little while.
I’ll miss you guys
Because that’s how I roll.
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Last night:
This morning:
Mom: Have a snack or something. Me: I was going to have the rest of those waffles. Mom: Don’t do that, have some fruit or something. Me: But I want the waffles. Mom: Save them for a midnight snack, instead of eating ice cream. Me: I WILL NEVER BE ASHAMED OF ICE CREAM!
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Dad: Okay, Mom and I are going out now, behave while we're gone.
Me: Yep.
Dad: Dinner's in the oven, but I didn't get any dessert.
Me: It's okay :(
Dad: Maybe if you're really good we'll pick up some ice cream for you on the way home.
Me: I'll be good! I promise!
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I'M BACK!
did you miss me?
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There was food stuck to the plate so I licked it off.
Oh my god I just bent down and licked food off a plate.
Like a fucking dog.
Or an anteater.
What is happening to me???
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What should I write about?
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At the stationery store:
Me: Hi again! I'm getting forty pieces of loose stationery and twenty envelopes today. Oh, and this sticker book!
Cashier: I really love seeing you in here. You always seem so excited!
Me: Writing letters is about my favorite thing ever.
Cashier: You're keeping the post office in business, lovely. Keep it up!
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Jenny is my fucking spirit animal.
maliciousintent:
Your life is not complete until you witness a guy walking down the street, playing guitar, with an unbuttoned shirt balancing a hacky sack on their head; which I just did. Completion.
This deserves a reblog for sheer awesomeness.
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Today I did fucking science. And I fucking won.
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Me: I feel kinda guilty, I just saw a couple of high school girls and thought they were really attractive...
Drew: Were they asian, studying, and in a coffee shop?
Me: You know me too well.
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Joanne used fucking full stops.
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I'm using liquid fucking helium at work.
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Did I mention that I fucking love you all? Because I fucking do. I spend more time with my tumblr friends than I do with my friends in the real world.
And I’m totally okay with that.
Here’s what I like about y’all, in convenient list form:
You’re some of the kindest, most non-judgmental people I know.
We stick up for each other. When Greyface the bully shows up we all...
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athousandcleverwords replied to your post: trigger warning: graphic depictions of eating.
Dare we say some form of recovery, if you are happy that’s what is moat important. So eat cake if you like it :).
Yeah, that’s the thing. I am happy eating. I don’t really know what happened. I probably can’t get fat because I only eat vegan stuff but I actually weigh more than I ever have...
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trigger warning: graphic depictions of eating.
So I’m pretty sure my anorexia has done an about face and is now a full-blown overeating disorder. Which, I guess, is fine for the time being. I really like food. And I’m happy that I’m starting to feel okay eating it.
And the strange thing is that I’m starting to enjoy seeing the numbers on the scale go up.
I’m eating cake while I write this, I’m liking the...
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Let me fucking text you.
If you have iMessage and you want stupid texts from me you should give me your number or something.
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Time to bake a fucking cake.
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Will someone go here with me? →
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I told you I wanted to tattoo a line of my writing on my left shoulder-blade but I still hadn’t decided on which line, and you said—trying to be funny—that I should get the vertical line, but I couldn’t bring myself to laugh because I was thinking of the serifs that make vertical lines beautiful and fill in the spaces around my words because I never want them to be...
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Fucking Links
THE FUCKING WEATHER
How fucked is Metro?
tights are not pants
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We should start a "fucking prose" tag for bullshit...
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That fucking burrito was fucking delicious.
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I really want a fucking burrito.
Going to Chipotle. brb y’all.
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TUMBLR MADE ME UNFOLLOW MY WIFE.
THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE. I WILL COME FOR YOU IN THE NIGHT, TUMBLR. WITH KNIVES.
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I like this motorcycle idea.
I’m even starting to think it may be a good alternative for self-injury. A lot of strong sensations and all that. My parents even say I should go for it. Now I’m having fun at work looking for used bikes. Once I move back to NH this is totally happening.
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My grandmother says, Sex is better than cheese. She may be right, I don’t like cheese much Anyhow. But cupcakes, definitely, Are better than sex.
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fat girls have souls too.
I actually love this piece. Enough to have it on my blog. It also makes me want cake.
the-peony:
my mother always told me i was too fat to be pretty — that underneath my ginormous breasts and heaving rolls, there was a skinny girl — screaming to be let out. i blamed her for not starving me, so my greatest purpose in life was to suck the joy out of my mothers perfect mouth, to punch her tight...
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On this night, my wife and I waged war on full stops. And it was kind of romantic.
girlbrokendown:
Written with my Tumblr wife Amy
North Atlantic waves stretched out under overcast skies grey with the walls of empty rooms before light brings color to them, ghosts cold in the corners but somehow welcoming, somehow remembering the pull of the ocean on swollen knees—dreams draped across the...
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From the same psychiatrist appointment.
Psychiatrist walks into office, sees scars on my arms: I see you're borderline.
Me: That's what they say.
Psychiatrist: What's your name?
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Conversation with my psychiatrist.
Him: How's your work going?
Me: My boss wants me to file for disability.
Him: You can't go on disability if you're not disabled.
Me: I am.
Him: No you're not.
Me: How do you know I'm not dissociated right now and I'll forget all of this in three hours?
Him: Borderline is not a disability.