vanillaicedcoffee

Creative. Brave. Restless. Mischief unmanaged. I solemnly swear I am up to no good.

[politeasfuck]

Oh, how everything can change. In such a small time frame; you can be remade, you can live again.

Nothing stays the same.

[politeasfuck]

— We hereby conduct this post mortem, TTPD, 4/19/24

[politeasfuck]

The splendid thing about falling apart silently is that you can start over as many times as you like.

— Sanober Khan

[politeasfuck]

We all inevitably ask ourselves, “am I a good person?” — it’s a fundamental human question that we should all confront ourselves with often. The truth is we’ve all probably been both good and bad people during our lives. I suspect that the real question we are asking ourselves at 2:00am, in cozy contemplation is, “does my propensity for darkness speak to the entire nature of who I am?”

— I wrote this for me

[politeasfuck]

There is no terror after the bang of the gun; only in the anticipation of it.

— Alfred Hitchcock

[politeasfuck]

Opportunities multiply as they are seized.

— Sun Tzu, Art of War

[politeasfuck]

In situations where we are victimized, having boundaries means that I assign the blame to that behaviour to the person it actually belongs to. I could not have controlled their behaviour and so I will not wear the shame of that behaviour. For example, the shame of rape belongs to a rapist — I will not wear that guilt. The guilt of abuse belongs to the abuser. I will not take responsibility for being victimized — the responsibility belongs to the victimizer. An abuser can violate our bodies, our trust, our autonomy, even our dignity. It’s a deep wound that deserves grief and substantial support.

But the one thing an abuser cannot do, no matter how hard they try to deny it, or try to convince you of it, they cannot assign you their guilt. They cannot require that you wear their shame. They cannot transfer the responsibility of that violation to you. It remains with them until they settle up with their maker. To this fact you have two choices: you might whisper under your breath, “may God have mercy on their soul”, or you can scream from the mountain, “fuck their soul, I hope if there is a God he bathes in their blood” — either response is permissible.

You are not responsible to your abuser for forgiveness. Your only responsibility is to yourself; to heal; to find peace. Sometimes forgiveness brings that, but only when it’s chosen and never when it’s obligated. Plenty of people find peace without forgiveness.

— KC Davis, unpublished

[politeasfuck]

I’d live in the ocean for forever and a day,

if it meant I could wash you away.

— l wrote this for you.

[politeasfuck]

I think I finally understand. I know exactly what I’ve needed all along. Let the games begin.

For darkness restores what light cannot repair.

— Joseph Brodsky

[politeasfuck]

I wish I knew no astronomy when stars appear.

— Joseph Brodsky, A Song

[politeasfuck]

One day I will die, and while I won’t be there to see my funeral, there are a few things that I have become pretty certain of:

 No one will stand at the front and say, “let’s remember the color and cut of her hair and the way it fell and framed her face.”

No one will reflect on my height or my weight.

No one will laugh or weep while delivering their speech on the size of my waist or the shade of my teeth.

I know this, because when I think of the people I love, those are the last things that come to my mind.

Instead, I think of kindness and patience and humour and wisdom and cosmic capacities for grace.

I think of days where I forget what anyone was wearing but I still feel the smile that was on my face.

I am so guilty of getting it backwards and feeling as if the way I look is the most meaningful and interesting part of me, but still, I will keep comeback to the truth:

Those things that make days and give life and spread that good, bright beautiful light –

Those are things my mirror will never be able to reflect.

— Sophie Diener

[politeasfuck]

Yet, even amidst the hatred and carnage, life is still worth living. It is possible for wonderful encounters and beautiful things to exist.

— Hayao Miyazaki

[politeasfuck]

All I ever did to that apartment was hang fifty yards of yellow theatrical silk across the bedroom windows, because I had some idea that the gold light would make me feel better, but I did not bother to weight the curtains correctly and all that summer the long panels of transparent golden silk would blow out the windows and get tangled and drenched in afternoon thunderstorms. That was the year, my nineteenth, when I was discovering that not all of the promises would be kept, that some things are in fact irrevocable and that it had counted after all, every evasion and ever procrastination, every word, all of it.

― Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem, 1968

[politeasfuck]

I will always be the virgin-prostitute, the perverse angel, the two-faced sinister and saintly woman.

― Anaïs Nin, Henry & June: From a Journal of Love, 1931-1932

[politeasfuck]

Photographs have never been my strong suit, I hate the idea of getting stuck. I have always been a better subject for videos because motion and movement are both two words for the same kind of beauty; the same kind of love. Kinetic energy is the energy of warmth and I think that I want my whole life to burn. I want to hold myself against the backdrops of a million different horizons. I want my footsteps to be varied. I want to hurt from how much walking I’ve done just so later while the calluses are forming I can capture just how far I’ve gone. I just want to go, I think somewhere out there is a place that’s actually home.

― I wrote this a long time ago

[politeasfuck]

I wish I was a business card or a paper plane, or an old dollar bill. I wish I changed hands so many times that I was worn at the edges from the places I had traveled to. I wish some kid had launched me from the fourth floor of his building just to watch the air currents catch me. I wish someone had folded me or built me, or called me their own for a fraction of second, even while knowing that they never really owned me. I wish someone had taken my dreams and put them into their wallet and had spent them with care. I wish I had changed someone’s life in some small way.

― I wrote this a long time ago

[politeasfuck]

I was drawn to all the wrong things. I liked to drink, I was lazy, I didn’t have a god, politics, ideas, or ideals. I was settled into nothingness; a kind of non-being, and I accepted it. I didn’t make for an interesting person. I didn’t want to be interesting, it was too hard. What I really wanted was only a soft, hazy space to live in, and to be left alone.

― Charles Bukowski, Women, 1978