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We looked inside some of the posts by g1rl-f00l and here's what we found interesting.
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Reblog Per Post
789K
Reply Per Post
407
Time Between Posts
4 days
Number of Posts By Type
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15
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2
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E te dizer que amor não senti é mentir pra mim E mesmo que seja melhor assim não posso negar que eu quero voltar Eu sempre quis nunca precisar te dizer que desde quando você se foi me pego pensando em nós dois E eu não consigo ver onde que eu errei
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apollo really gave me the gift of prophecy, damn
would you be able to look at me like that if you truly knew me?
hell
would i be able to look at you like that if i truly knew you?
who are you?
its so strange to realize i only know so little of whoever you are.
only bits and pieces.
maybe I should ask more questions, but im truly afraid of what answers i might get.
what if once we get to really know each other we simply dislike each other?
what if you don't like who i really am? I know that i don't!
what if i prefer the version of you i made up?
what if i hate you once I get to know you?
what if it's simply not meant to be?
what if we break up and all of your friends end up hating me?
will I become another story of your ill fated affairs?
just doomed from the start, did we ever stand a chance?
it suddenly came over me that this isn't going to make too far,
but i will try and enjoy the ride while we don't crash this car.
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when i was 12 i babysat this girl for a few years and she would come to me and show me her art, drag me by my wrists and point at the pieces she’d made during the week. and she’d be like “do the voice” and i’d put on a sports-announcer olympics-style voice and be like “such form! this level of coloring! why i haven’t seen such perfection in crayola in a long time. and what is this? why jeff, now this is a true risk… it seems she’s made … a monochrome pink canvas…. i haven’t seen this attempted since winter 1932… and i gotta say, jeff, it’s absolutely splendid” and she’d fall back giggling. at the end of every night she’d check with me: “did you really like it?” and i’d say yes and talk about something i noticed and tucked her in.
she was just accepted into 3 major art schools. she wrote me a letter. inside was a picture from when she was younger. monochrome pink.
“thank you,” it said, “to somebody who saw the best in me.”
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its that kind of night
my lungs left me with my fight
and a heart as cold as ice
freezing me from the inside
no body heat to collect
no argument to dissect
so im here on my own
this arctic ocean i call home
and i want to break free
crawl from the depths of my sea
but i cant get past my pride
so i will wait for the high tide
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@roach-works // Melissa Broder, "Problem Area" // Mary Oliver, "The Return" // @annavonsyfert // Koyoharu Gotouge, Demon Slayer // Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance // David Levithan, How They Met and Other Stories // Tennessee Williams, Notebooks
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I'm a stranger to myself
“I am a different person to different people. Annoying to one. Talented to another. Quiet to a few. Unknown to a lot. But who am I, to me?”
— Unknown
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would you be able to look at me like that if you truly knew me?
hell
would i be able to look at you like that if i truly knew you?
who are you?
its so strange to realize i only know so little of whoever you are.
only bits and pieces.
maybe I should ask more questions, but im truly afraid of what answers i might get.
what if once we get to really know each other we simply dislike each other?
what if you don't like who i really am? I know that i don't!
what if i prefer the version of you i made up?
what if i hate you once I get to know you?
what if it's simply not meant to be?
what if we break up and all of your friends end up hating me?
will I become another story of your ill fated affairs?
just doomed from the start, did we ever stand a chance?
it suddenly came over me that this isn't going to make too far,
but i will try and enjoy the ride while we don't crash this car.
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i forbid myself from thinking about it for too long
cause im too scared that I might be wrong
im inevitably going to know for sure
and maybe it is something i can endure
but if i cant bare the burden of knowing you
it is horrifying not to know if i can love you
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Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
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