what if I do

🌻sometimes NSFW

[4allweknow]

Hey Dad

So I’m about to sign papers and officially be able to celebrate accomplishing a long term goal. It’s been nearly 10 years in the making if I remember correctly, or even if I don’t remember correctly, it’s close enough for me. I bet you’re proud of me. I bet you’d come out to Ten I See to move me in and look at all of the things S has already checked out. You’d be impressed by him. I could see happiness in your eyes. We stay out late burning boxes and shit from moving. Always the last by the fire, eyes to the stars. We’re you searching for something, somewhere? Did you find or even know constellation’s? Did you wonder what space would be like? Or did you just stare off into the distance not seeing the sky and watching your life pass by. Did you know? Did you suspect?

But that doesn’t matter now, because you’re dead. And I’m here and I’m fighting myself, lost in my own mind all day. Would he tell me he’s proud of me? Working hard and putting myself in a position to succeed, successful in my own, and now a steady slow growth into a beautiful life meant for me. A life I want to live.

This is the foundation of the rest of my life and I’m really happy with where I am. Who I am. Who I love.

It’s a beautiful life.

Thanks Dad

[4allweknow]

Wow what a life.

I fell away from myself. Writing journaling scribing whatever. I held in all expression trying to be an image of someone or something I didn’t have to. I was being me but in a fake way? Or maybe it’s just a phase mom. Like life, we continually cycle through seasons of change. Sometimes we hate ourselves and that’s okay. I got some help. I let others help me. It was rough at first coming out of the tunnel space. I felt like it was an out of body experience. The last year had flashed before my eyes and I couldn’t believe how much life went by while I what, disassociated. It was a dark foggy maybe blurry tunnel when I flowed through the motions. I say things I have no idea why I’m saying it. I can be so “normal” or just less anxious in my head but then anxiety comes out of me I’m weird fucking ways and I can’t stand myself. But I know I’m changing gears in life and death. I’m about to know life in a way I crave, deserve even. And I know death so much more intimately. My dad died of cancer at 47 years old,3 days after thanksgiving this year. I’ve always fucking hated thanksgiving. It has been one hell of a roller coaster. We have been just enjoying life together, get engaged, we invite family to move in and as we all know that hardly goes well, dad dies, another exciting life event soon.

The clouds in Knox are supreme.

[4allweknow]

Why am I always loosing myself. In people, in ideas, in anything but myself. I’ve been in a place before where I was lost in myself and navigating that was beautiful. I loved me. I was sure of me. I knew me.

Where I fuck up is when I let other people get lost in me. I am a magnificent and complex creature. It’s always fun and easy to fall in love with me. The problem is, I learn them. What they want, what they like, things i see that they may not. And I give. I give all of me and and give more than I have and I become nothing. I become a shell of who I once was. Now I’m a chameleon. I’m who they want me to be. I don’t know myself anymore because there’s nothing left to know. I am here only to serve them and make their life better while I become nothing more than a mother, a maid, an automated bill paying system.

Then I become extremely needy. Needy because my own needs are not being met, by me or them, me because I have nothing left to give myself, by them because I’ve become a convenient tool to their life. And now I’m insecure. Because I’m extremely needy.

When will I stop making excuses for others to not treat me how I deserve to be treated? When will I stop giving all of me to people who don’t actively support me and what I need?

When will I stop upending my life to live a fantasy life I think I will get to live and just live the fantasy life by myself.

[4allweknow]

I need someone who will love me obsessively.

[4allweknow]

You can’t pretty away grief. This morning for the first time in what feels like an eternity, I put myself together. On the outside. Moisturizer, primer, full face of makeup, spent an hour on my hair. Had my fancy matcha latte, some pumpkin loaf. Pulled up Snapchat, took some quick photos and videos to post and remind everyone that I exist and I’m hot as fuck. Riding my wave of hot girl emotions, I went to town, to the craft store, a little anxiety being in a public space, so alone. But kept on rollin, off to the makeup shop, grabbed the couple things there I needed. While I was in line waiting to pay, a person stood a little close to me, told her daughter to stay there she went around me to look at those awful last minute grab this $20 travel size mascara type things. Anxiety again. I felt like I was suffocating. How do you think it’s okay to stand that close to me. The seconds ticked by as if they were hours. Can I hold it together for one more stop? To the grocery store. Grabbed everything I needed and got out faster than I’ve ever been through any shop. Made my way back home, put away the cold groceries and felt the first wave. This is not anxiety. Text my best friend if she was busy and she immediately called me as she was pulling into work. Her desperation of “I need to go to work but are you okay” and “I’ll call you when I can.” I’m sad. But that’s not enough to describe this feeling. And I’m crying. This is such deep sorrow, this is warm tears falling without welling up in your eyes, no pause, no holding onto it, no way to keep them from falling like fat soft rain. Forget that I spent hours getting myself to look okay. I am not okay. I am grieving. All that could have been, all I wish I could want enough to try harder for, pain and emptiness. And the invasive thoughts, is there regret? What if this was what was going to save me? And the guilt. And the pain. And the ANGER. And the grief. I tried to cover it with makeup and hairspray. But you can’t pretty away grief.

[4allweknow]

“You can cum now”

How many times have I imagined those words falling from your lips? How many times have I imagined you telling me I’m a good girl and your intoxicating little ‘hmmm’, smile spread across your lips watching my back arch, my knees trying to come together unsuccessfully, your face between my thighs..

Did I hear you correctly?

Say it again.

Smile dancing across your handsome face, “you can cum now”

And just like that, your body on mine, filling me with love…

…and cum

[4allweknow]

Kissing me not as a question,

but as a bold statement.

Hear me, by the way I touch you.

The way my hands speak to your body and my

passion ignites you.

And my body listens and responds,

As if it were created to be tamed by you.

r.b

[iglovequotes]

https://iglovequotes.net/

[jamausis]

“You make lists in your head about what you want in a lover, like brown hair and a sweet voice. A sharp mind and a soft heart, a sense of humor that actually makes you laugh like you mean it. This and that. And it’s all bullshit. Because people aren’t lists. And I’ve always wanted to be the person who made someone realize that. I want to come across someone with a list in their head that is nothing like the person I am, and I want to show them what they didn’t even know they were looking for. People who think they know what they want are fooling themselves. Nobody really knows what they want. Not until it’s right in front of them.”

— Anonymous (via suspend)

[4allweknow]

Do we need words for this?

What a thing it is to feel this way about another human.

Enjoying who they are, exploring their interests, learning, teaching, growing. Being so attracted and SO proudly in love.

So that’s how it feels.

[4allweknow]

I say I don’t give a fuck a lot. But the truth is I do. I give a lot of fucks a lot of the time over a lot of things.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, when I go out and I haven’t shaved in a month, and it’s 106 and I’m wearing shorts. Seeing the hair on my legs gives me pause before I get out of my car in the parking lot. That little fuck shows up like “maybe you should have worn pants..“ but I shut the fuck up looking at the temperature gauge in my car and see that body hair as the part of me that it is. It is not disgusting like “they” have told me. It is not to be ashamed of. If it wasn’t meant to be there, it wouldn’t be.

I feel the fucks rise when I put on a pair of shorts and my inner thighs bulge out a little. That one small “fold” on my left leg that everytime I look at I throw the shorts to the side and opt for yoga pants. I do it to myself. I give the fuck myself. I put myself in the shoes of a stranger and I turn and look and angle myself in every way that I know I stand or how I walk and I fixate. Fixate. Fixate. I stare at it until that tiny fold turns into my entire body and I try to find the biggest teeshirt and the most loose pair of jeans I own or just not go out at all. After I see the mess I made trying on different pairs of the same shorts I laugh and fold the fucks I gave, up in the boyfriend jeans that are 2 sizes too big for me and hang the fuck up with the men’s XL dress of a shirt. I look at my body and I give thanks. Thank you. Thank you for giving my the strength that I have to laugh these fucks away. To hold this love that I’m learning to give unconditionally to myself like I do for others. To have given me so much already without ever taking. For having the intuition that you do. For enduring the trauma and loss that you, that we, have. And that fold shrinks, is no longer my body, no longer my fixation. The shorts go back on. I appreciate the fold and acknowledge what it means for it to exist. It means that I exist. It means that my body has grown with me. It is a really reminder of the battles we fought. It’s a reminder of strength. That I’m a human and my skin suit is not the meaning of who I am and does not tell my story, but is there as a reminder for myself. It’s the human condition, I think, to give a fuck about things. I think if we don’t then how could we truly claim humanity? How can we claim one emotion without its counterpart? I like to give a fuck but one just enough of a fuck to matter to me.

[4allweknow]

•Venus Return•

I put on the dress. Intoxicated. I danced.

Full of stardust.

[4allweknow]

About to go spend a few days in the desert..

Everyone thinks I’m dumb for going alone, but I do everything else alone, why not the fun, the crazy, the beautiful things?

[inkskinned]

sometimes it’s like. i’m going back to my house. sometimes it’s “let’s go back to…” and you don’t know which word to use to sum up the building. sometimes you wake up to a text from your mother and have to shift all your plans to run home and sometimes you wake up and you are home. two nights ago i was confused about which bed i was still in. i sleep upside-down still, like i do at the house where my parents live. i don’t have as many nightmares as i once did. 

sometimes you’re in the car and you’re wondering - where the fuck am i going? what am i doing? why don’t i just go do anything else?

and sometimes you’re in the car and you’re wondering - how did i get so lucky? how is this real? am i grateful enough for all that has been done for me?

sometimes you type the text you shouldn’t send and you send it. and sometimes you don’t send it but you do have a full conversation with your dog about it. and sometimes you aren’t really sad yet but you can feel it percolating under the surface, hissing like it knows it will overcome you if you let it. and sometimes you aren’t really happy yet either but you get the same kind of something; a beautifully fine edge like the hair on the back of her neck. like if you reach out you could brush against a meadowed life. and sometimes quiet is just comfortable and sometimes it’s what isn’t being said and sometimes it’s a horrible exit. 

and you want to tell your past self - we made it out and we found a home! but you know she wouldn’t understand, because she doesn’t know what home is yet. and besides, you still say “im going home for the holidays”. you mess up and call the hotel home when you mean safe. sitting around a campfire, you find a warmth inside of their laughter, you mess up and call that feeling lovely when you mean belonging. 

and sometimes you’re like - wow! i’m really glad i’m alone for this. and sometimes it’s like. fuck thank god im not alone anymore. and you aren’t alone anymore. or if you are alone, you’re okay with it, because you are someone else now, and can be alone and happy about it. 

and sometimes it’s like. my childhood ended. i don’t know when. but i’m about to go close another part of it. i am aging, or i did age somewhere and forgot to notice it. the spoons are where we keep them, but the back of my hands have new scars and my sense of time is different.

i type - hi! i’m sorry to reschedule. i have to run home for a moment - and then go back and type i have to run to my parents’ house and then type i’ll be out of town. i don’t know where i am or where i’m going. i write home in the fog of my windowpane, and watch as snow starts falling.

[4allweknow]

I found it. A place I didn’t think I’d find. A place where I can finally settle. Where I can come for safety. I’m not in control, and the more I give up that control, the more I receive in return.

This place that I found was always there, I just had to stop looking for the external escape. I had to go within, to return home.

[4allweknow]

Last night I was alone. I found myself going down the rabbit hole. Mind betraying me, telling me awful lies. Panic would be setting in soon. But why? The thing about growth is that it is uncomfortable and sometimes can be mistaken for panic. I have grown so much, accomplished so much. I thought about how far I’ve come from a place where I thought I’d never get through. And not just once, but over and over again. So I got out of my own way. I slipped on the most comfortable night dress I own, put on a primal playlist, and danced around my room. I danced for myself, slow sway, eyes closed, focused breath. As the playlist picked up, my body rolled with the new beat. I kept my eyes closed, if I opened them I knew this feeling, this letting go, would leave me as quickly as it came. After four songs I was out of breath, pink cheeked, and wanting. Back into my slow sway my hands travelled the length of my body like an explorer tracing river lines of a map, through a mountain range, into a valley..

Getting lost, to find myself

[4allweknow]

How disappointing.

Men, who speak as if they know what they’re doing, then prove that they don’t. Men, to which I say “try me, if you think you can get me there. Be warned though, I’m not an easy one to get off.” Men, who think they are so mighty with a stick they seldom know how to use correctly. Men, who’s tongues are as useless to me as they are to bullshit they spew, the things that never should have left their heads. God knows the hands of men who have touched this body were undeserving. God knows the next pair of hands that do have the audacity to come my way....

They will not disappoint.