how romantic would it be to be lying slowly bleeding to death from several mysterious stab wounds in an abandoned gas station parking lot located along a stretch of a never ending midwestern gravel road surrounded by corn on both sides
they've never had sex
i seriously cannot comprehend the sex drive that makes one exclusively horny for captain america looking movie hunks or the victorias secret angel archetype of tall underweight women with generically pretty faces in bikinis. that shit is like carbon monoxide or infrasonic noise to my libido like my sexual senses cant even clock it
The idea that language is a game at which some players are more skilled than others has a bearing on the vexed relationship between loneliness and speech. Speech failures, communication breakdowns, misunderstandings, mishearings, episodes of muteness, stuttering and stammering, word forgetfulness, even the inability to grasp a joke: all these things invoke loneliness, forcing a reminder of the precarious, imperfect means by which we express our interiors to others. They undermine our footing in the social, casting us as outsiders, poor or non-participants.
Olivia Laing, The Lonely City
Save me warm toned lit windows of tenement blocks on a winters evening save me
he needs a lot of rest before the big season premiere
grief is so crazy like what if i forget what her laugh sounds like. does she know i loved her. i miss her so much. i catch myself doing things she used to do. i wish i could call her. i miss her so much. i do a crossword puzzle. i cry while washing the dishes. does she know i loved her? my heart feels like a hummingbird. i miss her so much. what if i forget what her laugh sounds like. what if i forget.
I have female hysteria + male loneliness + toxic masculinity + dark empath abilities
Waking up feeling like shit and giving myself grace like
drawing art for my own fic to motivate myself to write the bloody thing... college au.......