macklin celebrini has autism
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
No title available
Color Me Curious
★
gracie abrams
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
YOU ARE THE REASON
art blog(derogatory)
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Show & Tell
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
almost home
The Bowery Presents
Claire Keane
Love Begins
#extradirty
untitled
Cosimo Galluzzi
No title available
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Canada
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Mexico
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Canada
seen from Brazil
seen from France
seen from Tanzania
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Brazil
seen from Singapore
@andrea-emilia
where do I see myself in five years? Well its sort of a multiple choice question:
A) dead in a ditch with a wrecked Harley
B) studying something pretentious and yearning for a canvas
C) dead in a ditch with a bottle of sleeping pills
D) living in my parents home in a greenhouse of silence
E) living somewhere far far away with extra quarters in my pockets for the payphone to call my mother regularly
F) dead in a ditch (metaphorically)
G) dead in a ditch (literally)
I feel like I will forever be a little kid crying in my bedroom loud enough hoping my mother will hear me and come.
I feel like you will always be passing by my door, and you will never come in unprompted.
i feel my loneliness grow by every passing moment and I plead for the sun to stop rising or my heart to stop beating so I dont have to feel time slip through my fingers taunting me about my own isolation
theres something inherently honest and true to lonely young girls and I think it is that inside everyone there is a lonely young girls and all we are is how we come to face that.
resonated too hard with Matilda (1996) as a child, so what I'm saying is I have built a home for myself at the cross-streets of depression and whimsy
“I paint my ceiling black so I don’t notice when my eyes are open” = I surround myself in the sadness so I become accustomed to it so I dont notice when I really am
“a teenage boy drives grown men in golf carts/hes coming home to a manicured lawn, hes digging holes in his manicured lawn” = imitating the people you want to be, finding there are consequences
“when my best friend started driving we never went to class/the worst part of the car crash was talking to her dad” = facing the consequences of destructive behaviour and finding the people who knew you best may not anymore
I feel like my fathers anger is a train, and I am a passenger with my mother. She keeps on getting off at the stops to grab a coffee and I plead with her to let me go with her, she tells me I have to stay on it to stop the conductor from leaving without her, that she keeps him from driving the train into the wall.
we all know he is going to anyway, and I am left chasing trains and mothers in coffee shops, and the wall is there and nobody can get off the train.
walking to my train from the bluejays game I watched as one person said to another, “will this be the last time we see each-other?” to which the woman responded with “maybe” he proceeded to ask if they should have a proper goodbye and she smiled and said that they had time.
I think that is all love is, avoiding a real goodbye until you run out of time.
do you ever mouth words you wish you could say but never dare to whisper them?
like the idea of manifesting those thoughts doesn’t seem physically possible
I wish you were a better father and I wish I didn’t forgive you so easily.
I wish my mother left you and I wish I wouldn’t miss you if she did.
do you ever mouth words you wish you could say but never dare to whisper them?
like the idea of manifesting those thoughts doesn’t seem physically possible
every night I smoke standing by the window overlooking the small field connecting to my backyard. I think about the argument I had with my dad there, where we both stood on each side of the fence, with a good couple of feet in distance. I think about the time he was quiet, and I begged him to be nice to me. When my hysterics made him look at me like nothing, how I imagine a hunter may look at a weeping fawn after shooting its mother and setting their sights on it to be next.
I stand above it all and try to imagine what its like to see someone you love beg you to be loved properly and all you can offer is anger. I try to imagine what it is to be a father
ೀ⋆｡˚𖦹˙ᵕ˙⋆
fuuuuck i just realized that the future idealized version of myself cant exist without current me being the catalyst for change and doing hard things. has anybody heard about this
