SEARCHING THROUGH THE BELLY

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(Source: popserial)

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The quietest quiets always fall after the loudest louds. This is because the quiet can put its arm around you and gesture at the loudness right behind it and say, ‘look at that thing compared to me’

Grow Up, Ben Brooks. (via quitehappily)

(Source: earlrae)

I AM SOMEONE'S DREAM HUSBAND by Guillaume Morissette

neatomosquitoaltlitfireworksshow:

I am someone’s dream husband.
I like to fail just to have something to look forward to, which is success.
my favorite relationships are ambiguous, unreciprocated or entirely fictional.
I love being retweeted by a stranger more than I love myself.
the trajectory of my life is a pendulum getting entangled in itself.
I regret every part of my body that’s external.
my hobbies include dying alone.
I believe that if there is no hope then there is no disappointment.
I am immune to cereal.
I like to delay gratification until gratification is no longer possible.
my penis has unrealistic, utopian views of other people.
I seriously need someone to explain my hair to me.
I am a catalog of anxiety issues.
I experience anxiety in non-anxiety situations.
I read in a book that anxiety is the median between desire and jouissance.
I will tell you what I did with that knowledge.
I revisited the memory of my mom lying to me when I was eight.
she said, ‘we can’t have fondue like other families, because I am allergic to fire.’
she had anxiety issues and was afraid the flames would kill everyone.
I ate cereal and didn’t call her on her bullshit.
when years later we finally had fondue it was jouissance.

sometimes I sleep with the light on.

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Guillaume Morissette \ 

http://monogamie.tumblr.com/post/39525142879/neatomosquito-i-am-someones-dream-husband-by

Humans make their own worlds in the small area in front of their face.

Miranda July \ “Majesty” \ No one belongs here more than you. 

orbital elements

we are carbonated bodies,

bubbles with a tang a tight rope

to a tighter squeeze\

we are circular creatures

endlessly aligning, subscribing

to the gravity

(of our peculiar lives)\

we are evolution’s disasters,

cellular spindles mini-depressions

in a swell of stars\

we are the zenith

or the unstoppable runners

or the unsettled revolutionaries\

but only i and you

know, just how dangerous we are

suspended so carefully\

and rotating so gently

                                                                                               leah fishman

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brand new sister\brother moons 

             endless amounts of love for allie sider at code of conduct (chicago)

today’s thrift trips (value village, goodwill) led me to perfect prints