Work Song By Hozier / Mahmoud Darwish

Lets say, hypothetically, my lover's got humor and for the sake of debate... lets say, she's the giggle at a funeral.

“There’s an opposite to déjà vu. They call in jamais vu. It’s when you meet the same person or visit places again and again,but each time is the first . Everybody is always a stranger. Nothing is ever familiar.”

-Chuck palahniuk

Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

No one talks about the transition from being the girl everyone respected too much to come forward to and the girl that everyone desires. To feel like you are never someone's first choice, just a woman they would eventually settle for. To never be the girl they passionately, intensely ache for. To be the one they're afraid to taint. The one they will compromise with. To be the girl that becomes the mother of their child, but never their love.

And suddenly, suddenly you're the girl of their desires. The one with a free spirit and reckless behaviors and self-sabotaging actions. The one that hates herself so much, she throttles her own soul to fit an ideal image of what a man yearns for. To be savage and soft, simultaneously. To gaze at a man like a siren and never admit to being hurt.

No one talks about how you slowly feel both of these girls within you amalgamate. So achingly, so abruptly, you feel yourself spiralling out of control. You jump, face first, infront of a moving train, you wrench your heart inside of your chest. You swallow the thought of not being loved. There is a perpetual knock at the base of your mind of someone burning to come out, to be heard, to be felt, to be accepted.

You either become the trophy wife, or the girl they never wed. No one talks about girls like us.

every day i wake up and discover a new health problem that i have

“Go and love someone exactly as they are. then, watch how they transform into the greatest truest version of themselves. when one feels seen and appreciated in their own essence, one is instantly empowered.”

— Wes Angelozzi

Fuck productivity. Its cold, and I'm hibernating

Sapere aude

Edgar Allan Poe by Gina Iacob.

“you’re so pretty,” okay write poetry about me then.