On The Way To A House Not A Home

“how’s the veganism work with your whole thing with vampires” i’m not the one eating blood. Hope this helps

“My father never stepped in when his wife would rage at me”

-“Wildflower Wildfire” Lana Del Rey

does anyone else have this other self they’ve created in their mind that is not really exactly you irl but is more like what you want to be and has a life that continues in your head with like weird continuing daydreams but they’re not perfect or anything and wow i forgot where i was going with this

God why do I worry about what people think of me

Like today I went to Target and there is a Starbucks in there. So, my mom and I just got some because we had a long day. And she knows I love Starbucks coffee. But seriously as we were walking through Target the whole time I was worried about what people were thinking of me. THE WHOLE TIME. Like 'oh that girl has Starbucks, how stereotypical' and 'She has Starbucks must be a spoiled little brat.' I feel so stupid.

I keep forgetting what I’m doing in the middle of doing it. Keep walking into a room only to go in circles confused. Boxes are half-packed. An old sweater is evidence in a case I can’t close. Smells like spring sweat and laundry detergent and nights I didn’t cry. Smells like someone else’s life. I fold it, I unfold it. Sit on the floor and let the carpet burn into my skin until I remember who I am. I made a home here. Multiplying myself by one; I'm the exact same number but a process has occurred. 

Moving in for the summer. To the house with the hole in the door and the woman with the tongue of a snake. The walls listen. Time has passed and new people love me. 

I want to be a lighthouse. A warning and a welcome. I know my existence is temporary. And so is yours. The fact that we eventually gave parts of ourselves to people who may only be passing through our life is even more absurd than the fact that I can still recall a stranger’s favorite movie from years ago. It’s true what they say; a place is only as good as the people in it. I miss you. 

I quit smoking two weeks ago. But the craving still curls in my throat like something half-alive. My lungs taste like promises I don’t want to make, I can't keep. A ritual, in lullaby. Warning signs I keep ignoring. A ghosted friend, it’s waiting for you to come back home. Maybe healing isn’t healing, maybe you just learn to carry your rot more quietly. You are not who you were last november. You’re safe; it’s only change. 

You walk through the world reading patterns like omens. Separate harm from hurt, sickness from survival. Studying monsters or trying to understand your parents. I’m both the predator and the prey, I’ll catch myself then eat myself whole.

I’m nineteen. Which means I know everything and nothing at the same time; an apology, an excuse. The universe is an ongoing explosion. That’s where you live. In an explosion. We absolutely don’t know what living is. Sometimes atoms just get very haunted. That’s us. When an explosion explodes hard enough, dust wakes up and thinks about itself. And writes about it too, apparently.

Sometimes I lie to my therapist because I don’t want her to think it’s getting bad again. Sometimes I cry while doing the dishes because the clinks means someone is throwing them. My ribs are setting wrong in my body. How did that sweet little girl turn into this horrid creature? everything is better when it’s private.

In the middle of becoming. I keep dreaming about the idea of home. blankets and fairy lights and spotify rain playlists and the soft. There’s something soft in me that refuses to die. It is almost time that I change shape again. It’s out of my control.

I don’t mind the walk.

It’s summer and I’m getting better. hopefully. Dandelions are starting to swell at my feet, seas going over hills. I've missed the yellow. The wishes of childhood. where had it been all this time?

Because what are fruits but symbols of greed, and love, and humanity

Blackberry Picking, Seamus Heaney// @noquietrevolution//@vampireapologist // Oranges, Gary Soto // We Are Okay, Nina LaCour // Twitter user super_smasha// @inkskinned

I'm already human and dont call me Detroit

unprofessional thoughts

Can you imagine the whole room going into a dead silence after Izuku says “Dad?” Just no one knowing how to react or what to say. Everyone is just confused but something clicks for AFO and he’s just like “...son?”