ohthepoppiesareinbloom this is how I act towards other lesbians
“Still, I wonder. Why--how--have I managed to learn these things while others have not? Why have I managed somehow to leave behind at least for now what looks like wreckage, and shape something solid from my life? My prognosis, after all, was very poor. In idle moments, I still slide my fingers under the sleeves of my shirt and trace the raised white nubs of scars that track my arms from years and years of cutting. How did I learn to stop cutting and collapsing, and can I somehow transmit this ability to others? I don't know. It's a core question for me in my work. I believe my strength has something to do with memory, with that concept of fluid time. For while I recall with clarity the terror of abuse, I also recall the green and lovely dream of childhood, the moist membrane of a leaf against my nose, the toads that peed a golden pool in the palm of my hand. Pleasures, pleasures, the recollections of which have injected me with a firm and unshakable faith. I believe Dostoevsky when he wrote, 'If man has one good memory to go by, that may be enough to save him.' I have gone by memory."
A Few Pictures
Bad First Drafts
Catch Me On Thought Catalog
"Your vagina is supposed to smell like a vagina, not a mango. If your partner complains about the natural smell or taste of your vagina, they can go fuck a mango."
All I’ve done today is sleep and cry…
ughhhh handling this much worse than originally anticipated.
and I’ve basically been crying all day even though it’s really selfish and ridiculous.
At least I have chocolate covered frosted flakes.
"You go from dream to dream inside me. You have passage to my last shabby corner, and there, among the debris, you’ve found life. I’m no longer sure which of all the words, images, dreams or ghosts are ‘yours’ and which are ‘mine.’ It’s past sorting out."
Thomas Pynchon, Gravity’s Rainbow (via larmoyante)