K.R.F

ferme les yeux

[katie-rf]

I can’t wait to live on my own and have an insane amount of different kinds of tea in my kitchen from my travels to different countries!

[katie-rf]

One of my favorite repeats

[katie-rf]

This mornings dream if anyone cares

…

I had a dream this early morning that I had a humming bird in my room. The tiny little bird, for some reason loved me greatly. It kept flying towards me, and first, when I hesitantly approached the little frail bird to inspect it, I was afraid it might bite me. Something was wrong with it, it could not properly fly away, but with the little willpower it had, it would pathetically fly straight towards my hands and land. So that I could hold it, and it made me so eager. To think, to see, that it loved me, that it had chosen me for some reason. I felt pure, as though I had hope in my person, and I were not as morally plagued as I had believed.

That is until I carried it, with the intent of showing it to my mother, my family, how it loved me dearly and didn’t run. Suddenly it started pecking at me, at first I didnt understand, I eyed it as its beak drove into the flesh of palm, even with the pain of it biting into me, I didn’t understand. Maybe I didn’t want to understand, I thought it loved me, and maybe it says a lot about my person but I refused to put it down, just one second, one minute, I whispered internally to myself, but meant for the bird. I needed them to see, I needed them to enjoy it with me, and that’s when it’s body began burning my fingers as well, its neck released this bitter substance that burned into my skin when it grazed it.

I tried wrapping it in a cloth,that as I laid my eyes on, it were as though I had it for so long and had been saving it for something special. I was so afraid it might burn it, the fabric of it but I persisted, and pushed myself to the back burner (metaphorically, of course) but the bird suddenly gained the strength to fly.

With its power to do so it attacked me, flew at me aggressively, and it ended with my somber thoughts of realization, that it no longer loved me and had turned sour on me. It loved me when it was tied down, when it needed care, but when it was well rested and able, it knew it had exaggerated my worth.

[helenaludoella]

i’m climbing back into that world to write this one my phone, but a few seconds ago i stepped out of my bed to grab my water bottle, after a whole evening of planning and dreaming of a future in my head, talking about it with many people, looking at inspirations and examples,

and the sole of my foot touched the cold floor and suddenly i was a body again. a human under a blanket in a room under stars, and i touched my lips to the warmth of the flesh of my knee and i thought about how long it had been since i felt physically presently human. (since the days i studied outside in the sun i think) i’ve been in my head ever since.

and i wondered about if what it i put my phone down for days, and only lived with books, no studies because they make the time pass in a haze of nerves too. would time slow down and would i be a philosopher? would the narrating voice in my head quiet after a while? would i be a body again, or would i be a dreamer still?

i long to be only a body…

[katie-rf]

Screw Online safety, here’s my beautiful bedroom and cup of blueberry açaí tea. Work in progress

[katie-rf]

I just started listening to Hey There Delilah again… and going through my old messages.

[katie-rf]

I love watching my cats watch me. The way their little heads move up and down while I clean our bedroom, is intriguing. So curious and cute.

[katie-rf]

I read Metamorphosis in one sitting last night. Weirdly, since I’ve woken up, I’ve missed it. I truly love Franz Kafkas writing, it’s what lured me to read Metamorphosis in the first place. Any book recommendations?

[katie-rf]

I discover new music through old movie sound tracks and “best of Avril Lavigne 2000s!!” Playlists on Spotify

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HELP! Is August 8th and August 22nd close enough to consider it a sign?

[katie-rf]

I’ve been infatuated with lighthouses as of recent. I found an old lighthouse switch for my bedroom, I took out the old screws and replaced them for new ones. I printed out various photos of them as well, I even saved digital copies into all the crevices that could hold them online. Whether that be Pinterest, Spotify, Instagram and even here now on Tumblr. I don’t know what to make of my new obsession, but I imagine it is another way I try and find purpose. Like making sense of the stillness at night, so it doesn’t swallow you whole.

Maybe I’m waiting to find my way in this sea of answers that all belong to somebody but me. Maybe it’s my minds way of finding its path to safety, like an old, tired, drunken, sailor at night. As I make my path through life, I leave parts of myself, unstuck sticky notes, blown by the wind. That’s something I drew when I was 15. A photo of me kneeling in the middle of scattered pieces of paper blown by the wind, my hands desperately trying to hold more in my arms, but losing more of myself in the process. My fingers, covered in paper cuts.

I’d written down reminders of my favorite colors, movies, what made me smile, what made me angry, cry, and even laugh. In the journey of trying to hold onto fragments of myself, I have lost what little I greedily held. Maybe I’m just trying to avoid it, the very fact that I’ve been forgotten and tossed away like a plastic bag. I realize now that I’ve lived entirely as a widow mourning her missing rib. Only, I don’t know when I had it, even when I lost it.

Maybe I look for a lighthouse everywhere I go, so that when one finally crosses my path, I can pretend that God left it just for me.

Truthfully, I’ve spent so much time out at sea that I don’t know what to make of the silence anymore.

Sincerely,

K.R

[katie-rf]

Anyone else absolutely obsessed with their Spotify? Sometimes I look at it and think: I wish I had that girls Spotify. Feels like I’m running a My Space profile.

Feel free to stalk me too ;)

[katie-rf]

That feeling when your photo goes viral on Pinterest!

[katie-rf]

Just started re-watching H20 Just Add Water for the 100th time

[katie-rf]

I stalk these shoes like a crazy Ex.

K.R

[katie-rf]

I’ve been infatuated with lighthouses as of recent. I found an old lighthouse switch for my bedroom, I took out the old screws and replaced them for new ones. I printed out various photos of them as well, I even saved digital copies into all the crevices that could hold them online. Whether that be Pinterest, Spotify, Instagram and even here now on Tumblr. I don’t know what to make of my new obsession, but I imagine it is another way I try and find purpose. Like making sense of the stillness at night, so it doesn’t swallow you whole.

Maybe I’m waiting to find my way in this sea of answers that all belong to somebody but me. Maybe it’s my minds way of finding its path to safety, like an old, tired, drunken, sailor at night. As I make my path through life, I leave parts of myself, unstuck sticky notes, blown by the wind. That’s something I drew when I was 15. A photo of me kneeling in the middle of scattered pieces of paper blown by the wind, my hands desperately trying to hold more in my arms, but losing more of myself in the process. My fingers, covered in paper cuts.

I’d written down reminders of my favorite colors, movies, what made me smile, what made me angry, cry, and even laugh. In the journey of trying to hold onto fragments of myself, I have lost what little I greedily held. Maybe I’m just trying to avoid it, the very fact that I’ve been forgotten and tossed away like a plastic bag. I realize now that I’ve lived entirely as a widow mourning her missing rib. Only, I don’t know when I had it, even when I lost it.

Maybe I look for a lighthouse everywhere I go, so that when one finally crosses my path, I can pretend that God left it just for me.

Truthfully, I’ve spent so much time out at sea that I don’t know what to make of the silence anymore.

Sincerely,

K.R