March 2012
109 posts
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leap day
poetry reading…oh my…who gets up to the podium, laughs for a long time nervously, and then reads her poem about lightbulbs? me, that would be I.
“I’m enamored.”
beautiful weather
I need to do so much but I don’t want to
February 2012
84 posts
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Sleeping in is giving in, so lift those heavy...
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truthfully though if we both put forth enough energy to being together and decidedly happy (and actually had time) all we’d ever accomplish would be watching old obscure films, having thought-provoking-obscure-novel-worthy conversations and have lots of great almost-too-far (for me) (but I’d be more than okay with it) moments
(and isn’t that just so terrible)
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“Time does not heal all if you just watch something rot.”
– Philip DeFranco
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Me when I go out: I should've stayed home
Me when I stay home: I should've gone out
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I thought it’d be really therapeutic to skip the family dinner before youth group and drink a bunch of hot green tea and dance like a crazy person to Death Cab but now I’m sweating and I have to change out of my tights
Anonymous asked: That's understandable. That's one of my favorite pieces of Literature.
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Anonymous asked: Why did you cry today?
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I literally just said, out loud, “Kaytlin, you’re retarded.” then laughed and said, “I’m aware.” I AM GOING INSANE
I also have a battery in my hand where did this come from
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February 26, 2012
I don’t know what I want.
I witnessed my friends making a bomb out of an empty jar that once held cloves and gunpowder and a straw last night. Not sure how that worked. They set it off in a field. What?
Laid on my back on a gravel road and looked at the stars. Honestly, it was just very cold.
I also packed food to be sent to the Horn of Africa, watched “Gone” (I WAS SCARED I...
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We were fools to think nothing could go wrong.
Go...
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Marylou was watching Dean as she had watched him clear across the country and back, out of the corner of her eye—with a sullen, sad air, as though she wanted to cut off his head and hide it in her closet, an envious and rueful love of him so amazingly himself, all raging and sniffy and crazy-wayed, a smile of tender dotage but also sinister envy that frightened me about her, a love she...
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Anonymous asked: Why does the sex of someone change love to you?
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How to get to me
talk about classic literature
smile at me
Hey, you’re good at this. (are you doing it on purpose?) (the previous question is the eternal one)
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“I don’t know what I want.“ I say that all the time when I mean, “What I want is impossible and frightening and painful so I hold on to things that only make me content.”
Is a lack of passion really that fatal? Is there something wrong with being only mediocre-happy all the time instead of having a soaring, crashing, over-sentimental, pin-pricked with terror...
Anonymous asked: Can you see yourself ever being with a girl?
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“You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have...”
– Charles Dickens
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“I may never be happy, but tonight I am content. Nothing more than an empty...”
– Sylvia Plath
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“The artist is a cut above the critic, for the artist is writing something which...”
– William Faulkner
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What I actually would want tomorrow if people were following my idealistic plot-line to my maddeningly idealistic, non-existent book in my head:
watching Breakfast at Tiffany’s and The Princess Bride (I’ll try not to say all the lines aloud)
“Sorry. I actually do care.” *
accepting stupid cards I made, stupid “I adore ya!” scribbled in my stupid handwriting
...
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