Michelangelo Antonioni’s “The Passenger” February 28, 1975.
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Michelangelo Antonioni’s “The Passenger” February 28, 1975.
night night <3
abby is inadvertently trying to get me to write chain smut with brock and I don’t have the skills for this
هناك أشياء وأماكن يجب أن تظل في الذاكرة،
كختمٌ وسمً دون المساس.
so you're gonna leave me on delivered for an hour and a half, be on the phone with our friends when you know it will upset me, cause me a 4 hour mental breakdown at work, and then tell me you love me? ok babe sure you do
sometimes we live together
the way the towel you used the other day when you were here hangs next to mine like a his & hers set makes me feel like we were in love that day. how you hopped in with me like it was something we always did together and we didn’t fuck, just flirted, just washed each other with hot water and soap and navigated the four corners of my shower, which is only really meant for half a person. how we lounged around my house naked for hours, spilling our past lives to each other via old poems and raps and even current lives; i read you “barbecue for breakfast.” i had to read slowly. we both got a little choked up. i am trying not to let myself forget, or block out, rather, the memory of you falling asleep on my shoulder that night, your fingers locked in mine, and how you said the songs that shuffled on my phone were too fitting for our predicament. i hadn’t thought of them like that. i already forget what was playing. “look at me,” you said. “this might be the only time you see me cry.”
Today's been a nice day!
sometimes a thought come to my mind. should i be selfish just to be able to lessen the pain i’m feeling? bcs i’m so closing to my breaking point. so so close. please take away some of the pain i’m experiencing. please