rad

if i were any good with names - i'd be famous.

[uxonerem-blog]

I thank you for listening and trying

an ever thankful daughter

[aboutsunday]

@uxonerem pls appreciate me as a child i know you’re the only one who will 😤

[uxonerem-blog]

BABY YOU WITH SASS IN THE FIRST PICTURE AND THEN BABY YOU THATS ALL “LOVE ME AND GIVE ME COOKIES” IM HOLLERING

[uxonerem-blog]

“Why do you think people love for what they hope another to be and not what they are?” 

“Because we grew up drunk on soulmates and perfection. What people can’t find they make up. Even if it is just remade for themselves. And because everyone wants to be perfect, everyone wants to be loved or valued - we try to conform. We fool ourselves into thinking we’re happy when all anyone is doing is playing a role.” 

“But what if one just sees what the other won’t?” 

“What if they can’t?” 

[uxonerem-blog]

A standard I wish unto none

perfection

[aboutsunday]

pls suffer my dear friend

@uxonerem im literally doing this bc u said not to h A

-

“am i in love with you, or am i in love with the feeling?”

romantic love is, in the simplest of terms, one of the most ridiculous feelings one can have. 

that sounds a bit cynical, but it’s my opinion. maybe it stems from my fear of commitment, or maybe it comes from witnessing how emotional people get after the love they’re supposedly feeling gets trashed.

i mean, imagine giving the power of a loaded gun with pressure already on the trigger to someone. you wouldn’t. it’d be so moronic i’d probably gouge out my eyes with a plastic spoon. 

that’s what romantic love sounds like. you’re just giving people the power to hurt you. you have a fucking choice-use your goddamned brain to make the decision to hey, maybe not do that. of course, people do anyways. i don’t get the point.

are feelings, at this point, even real? do i actually care about the person i say i do? i mean, it’s nice holding hands and having someone to laugh with, but if they dropped off the face of the planet, would i even care? sure, i’d wonder what happened, but would i care?

[uxonerem-blog]

you are literally so rude 

[aboutsunday]

Precious metals

If I had to explain you in color,

it’d be gold.

Not just because of your skin tone,

or whatever other physical features.

It’s because you look like

you have heaven in your eyes.

I’ve never been religious,

but your laugh sounds like God’s.

You’re gold,

all the way into your bones,

your soul,

your existence.

I’ve always liked silver.

[aboutsunday]

another open letter

oh yeah, writing hour. you know, to procrastinate studying. I TOTALLY DIDN’T WRITE AN ENTIRE TWENTY MINUTES WORTH OF CONTENT THAT I HATED FOR SOUNDING TOO INSENSITIVE IDK WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT @uxonerem (pls don’t yell at me, you’re scary, i promise i’ll pass; also pls remind me to bring my shakespeare book w/ me to college, i miss reading about people coming on a scene where the world has literally burned down and now they have to clean up the mess)

-

there’s something about walking in dark and undiscovered places at midnight talking about our families, something about sitting on the damp concrete of a rooftop at two in the morning talking about the stars, something about sitting on the steps of an abandoned church at four in the morning talking about our fears that makes me want to cry. 

i cry about a lot of things, for multiple reasons, but this really strikes at a nerve. you make me pity you. i haven’t known you long–i don’t want to know you this well. you were the one who said you were scared of me, but you will never understand the fear that enters my throat when i think about seeing you again. my limbs are shaking, my bones are aching–i don’t want anything to do with you. seeing people at two in the morning and sober is completely different than seeing them at four in the afternoon after classes and in a group dynamic. you said you were scared i was going to hurt you; i would be scared, too. i’ve already started it. 

i want to ignore you–each and every single one of you. i like forgetting. it haunts me at night, if you couldn’t tell. all i see on repeat are bony hands reaching for my sweatshirt, green eyes full of tears. i see frozen blue eyes lined in red from crying, voice cracking as their world crumbles down. i recall storm clouds for eyes staring straight ahead as a hand on my back guides me to a quiet room as my chest heaves from pain. you’re on that loop, now. another dimple, another pair of sad eyes. 

i don’t like running, unless it’s running from my problems. from feelings. i told you i was a terrible person; it’s not my fault you chose not to believe me. i’m a pathological liar. a serial manipulator. i don’t feel remorse after acting on impulse. i didn’t warn you to come on a walk with me, because i thought it was written in the subtext of my feelings towards the sun. i thought you were smarter than this, thought you would’ve known as soon as those words were out of my mouth that something wasn’t wrong. who moves on that quickly? no one. i told you not to trust me. 

you’re going to be the one on the ground, your mind spinning on where you went wrong, and i’ll be there to remind you that you went wrong when you took that first step across the bridge. god, i can see it now. you’re going to be crying, because you seem that type. your friends will be confused, and you won’t know what to say, because you don’t want to hate me, but you will. and your friends will beg and plead for a name, but you won’t tell them because you can’t believe you were that stupid, and i’ll agree. you weren’t thinking with your head, you were thinking with your heart, and that makes me want to slap you.

i’ve said it multiple times, and you never listened. it’s a dog-eat-dog world out there and people only look out for themselves. there’s no such thing as pure intention. you’re a fool if you think anything else, and you, unfortunately, are one of the biggest fools i’ve ever met. it makes me want to pity you. maybe you were too innocent and blind to see the signs. i’ve been there. but you just can’t seem to get over that. and it makes me want to cry. you poor, pathetic soul. i didn’t set out to ruin a life that night, not yours, anyways. 

 if i could feel sorry, i would be.

[uxonerem-blog]

@architecture-of-trees THIS WAS SO PRETTY BUT DONT U DARE MAKE ME DRIVE UP THERE AND SLAP U STUDY U BORK ITS LIKE 2 CHAPTERS :( 

[shitthesignssay]

Most to Least Likely to be Salty AF

Cancer

Virgo

Capricorn

Scorpio

Aries

Leo

Aquarius

Taurus

Gemini

Pisces

Sagittarius

Libra

(Check your sun and/or mars sign)

[aboutsunday]

@uxonerem IM CRYING DID YOU MAKE THIS

[uxonerem-blog]

@architecture-of-trees first of all if i made this i would be #1 have you met me

[uxonerem-blog]

brush my bleeding beating heart 

with your cold cautious callous hands 

the second it stops sends me soaring 

love me not 

[uxonerem-blog]

i wished i could hold your hand 

i wished i could hold your hand because i remembered when i was little and i held hands with my parents 

compared our lifelines 

long and crooked 

scratched in at birth 

our lifelines match in my heart

straight and perfect 

but you hold hands with her 

so i must be wrong 

i am okay with being wrong 

if it means our hands touch

[uxonerem-blog]

I loved everything he hated about himself. Things that were small yet powerful. Like the way the freckles on his face tanned in the sun and peppered him beautiful. Like the way the burn on his cheek from young baking gone wrong looked like a darker expanse of universe come to say hello on his skin. 

I loved everything about him I think. 

I wonder if he loved everything about me too.

[uxonerem-blog]

I know I shouldn't be half as hard on myself as I am

but I don’t know how to stop.

[uxonerem-blog]

he took pictures of all of the places we went. 

memories. he’d said.

it had never occurred to me that they’d be mine alone one day.

[uxonerem-blog]

Not all romantic love blooms. He taught me that. It plants and roots; it becomes something to learn from. It teaches as much as it hurts, yet you can never despise it.

stargirl

[uxonerem-blog]

writing hour

I live wondering if I am as complicated as I think or if everything is self-imposed suffering. I want to think that I am pretending. Maybe I want to hope that I am pretending because it means that I’m not as broken as I feel. Would it make me broken to want to pretend?  I open my eyes, all too aware of the cold in my bones and the ache of my joints. I am still outside, right where I’d lain down with him to just talk. I hadn’t just spoken with someone in so long that it was like some sort of dream, that conversation. The only thing reminding me it was real was the hint of his smell - all smoke and burning grass - and the gentle lay of the grass. His imprint still there as though the grass itself felt blessed to have touched and been touched by him. 

“What do you want- from life I mean?" 

he looked me in the eye, sure as always. always seeming to know everything although he hadn’t known me for more than a month. 

"I don’t know. I never have. I don’t have a drive..urge…I’m pathetic." 

The silence stretched, broken by the small intake of my breath, the whisper that would be heard no matter how quiet I was. 

"It scares me."  That is the last thing I remember before he laid down, stared at the sky without saying anything else to me - like I had never spoken. I don’t know if I’m mad at him or simply thankful that he had only listened, like he’d promised those odd number of weeks ago when he stepped in front of me and demanded my company. 

"What’s your name?"  "M-my name?" 

"Yes, you. If I’m going to sit down and listen to you and have you listen to me like friends do, I have to have a name to call you by."  "Since when were we friends?"  "Since now, since I said so."  Standing, I allowed myself the time to stretch and unstick my dew-damp clothes from my body - only slightly cringing at the sensation it left behind. Looking left and right, I had only just grasped that I was completely alone. That he’d left like some vigilante in the middle of the night or maybe some sort of apparition I’d invented out of my own loneliness. The pit that formed in my stomach was unwelcome as I picked up my life-beaten sneakers and prepared for the walk home and the inevitable questioning about my sudden disappearance in the late hours of the evening only to return in the wee hours of the morning like some rebel teen. That was how he made me feel though, like a rebellious girl bending at the beck and call of her bad boy. Except he wasn’t bad. He was good. Too good for me and almost everyone else. Too good for the world, he seemed.  "why do you bother with me?"  "you’re a good person.” Some part of me wonders if you know what you do to me, this complicated-but-maybe-not- girl. And then I look at the light of your smile, the grace of your eyebrows and I realize you don’t know that you’re made of stardust to me.  It takes only 6 hours that day for me to see him again. He looks the same, yet different. He does not look like the boy that sat next to me and formed moonlight with his very existence, no. This time he looks like the sun, maybe just a bit brighter and more dangerous. Our eyes lock across the room and he waves with a twitch of his fingers, mouth smiling and nose scrunching just a bit in that way it seemed only I noticed. I smile back, ignoring the lava in my veins and the edge of longing engraved deep behind my eyes. I did not make my way to him, not yet. I wanted to enjoy him from a distance for just a bit more.  “I don’t ever want to grow up."  "Why?"  "Because it means that this moment will be destined for nostalgia and not something that is forever." 

It was then I realized I could not have him. I could not have this perfect boy and his moon-sunlight smile, his starry eyes and bluish-purple bruised soul with all it’s colors of twilight. I could not have him the way I wanted. I realized it like some people realize they’re adults now when they graduate college or like some say they realized that someone close would never be close again. It hit like a heavyweight punch but I could not bring myself to fall, not in agony. I could only see the indent of laugh lines when he grinned, the bitterness of his tears when he cried and fall deeper into the love he did not want from me. I fell more, knowing that he was metaphorically forbidden. That I could never be able to love him like someone else would someday.  "tell me something interesting."  "If you love a flower, don’t pick it up. Because if you pick it up, it dies and ceases to be what you love. So if you love a flower, let it be."  "Who’s that from?"  "Osho."  "Hm. Interesting.”

He finds his someone one day, I can see it before he tells me. Can tell by how his eyes dart around and then rest, only to flash back to me again in hopes I had not caught him. I always did, but I pretended not to notice that he probably hadn’t heard the last ten things I said.  “What is it like to fall in love?"  "How would I know?"  "Because you’re in it already."  She is everything I expected, everything I selfishly wanted her not to be. She is a universe of her own, a galaxy fit for him. I can tell that she sees all the things I do, all the things that made me fall in love with him and stay in love with him quietly. All the things that reminded me that he could only ever be hurt by me. I want to hate her, but I can’t. She’s too perfect, too much like him. I can see why he fell. It is also why I am surprised, but not hurt, when he takes me to the spot I now hold dear to talk to me for the last time.  "I can’t hang out with you as much anymore."  "I understand.” But I didn’t. Not really. I was nothing more than a friend to him, a star among the millions in his constellation - nothing like the universe he had. I would never be her, he would never shine for me like he did for her - no matter how many late night, early morning - disappearing with the wind conversations we had. Whatever it was that we had was as regular as an orbit to him. I was a star that wished to be a planet because, like all things that die too soon, I wanted to be what was eternal. But I was not immortal. I was a small star, the kind that shone dimly and was usually overlooked. The kind that died out the quickest in a brilliant burst of light. So as I watched him walk past me, glancing in my direction and sending that smile I had once kept to myself, I smiled back. Still loved him from a distance as he loved someone else who was intimidated by me, sure, but still did not have it in her to be mean to me. Have him cut me off completely. I smiled back against the pain that I let them both impart on me. I smiled back and wondered why I couldn’t rip him from my existence. And then his smile widened before he turned, happy I was truly not angry at him like I said I wasn’t over and over and over until he finally left me alone that night. I hadn’t lied, I couldn’t be angry at him. He had that power over me; I loved him that much. I would probably lay the world at his feet if he asked.  But he was not mine, would never be, and I could not be angry because I had made it that way.  “How quickly do you think a person can fall in love?"  "So fast they think they’re somewhat crazy, so fast they think it isn’t real.” “Is that from experience?"  "Something like that- sure." 

[uxonerem-blog]

My only regret is not thanking him.

stargirl

[uxonerem-blog]

I don't think I'm wise. I just have a lot of thoughts.

me, daily