birdiedreams
birdiedreams
The Susurrant Mouse
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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It’s amazing what one will find in old journals, long forgotten.
Was going through some incredibly old journals (5-7 years old) and found a poem I had written about a summer romance I once had. Ah, youth.
Autumn dreams of a summer romance,
Of a love that lasted but a season.
Autumn dreams of surf and sun
And silken sand between our toes;
Of singing at the top of our lungs,
As if we were the only ones
Who knew the score.
And autumn dreams of endless nights
With wine, laughter and tears;
With your smile so bright still lingering close,
In that brief moment before it met my own.
While seasons change and winter soon comes,
I will cherish what once we had—
The vivid memories of love
Are now just
Faded
Autumn
Dreams.
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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My Sexuality Is Not Up For Debate.
It's not "I love boys" for me. Or I "love girls". It's "I love". Full stop.
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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When even ya weed on fleek 💅💞
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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by Jeremy Giles
Flickr - Tumblr 
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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I Am More.
I am more than my medication. I am more than the multiple handfuls of colorful, chemical candy that I blindly shove between my parched lips. I am so much more than the stigma; more than the daily bullshit shoved upon me by commercials and other media claiming I must take this brand new pill to solve all my problems and feel normal. I am more than the list of side effects ten miles long. I am more than the sleepless nights spent in withdrawal. I am so much more than the new pill after new pill after new... All in hope of finding some balance and some peace. I am more than my breaking point. I am more than my anxiety, depression, my chronic pain. I am more than my countless tears and fears of my own mind. I am so much more... more than I'll ever truly be.
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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Underneath my outside face There’s a face that none can see. A little less smiley, A little less sure, But a whole lot more like me.
Every Thing On It by Shel Silverstein
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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Up all night, Dan McCarthy
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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And though she be but little, she is fierce.
A Midsummer Night's Dream; Act 3, Scene 2
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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She’s the type of girl that can be so hurt but can still look at you and smile
Marilyn Monroe (via bl-ossomed)
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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Betjeman's Valerian: Tim Parkin
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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Random Venting; Feel Free to Ignore...
...because it seems that everyone else does.
It's a bit maddening, that constant feeling like you're the toy on the shelf that's ignored and collecting dust, only to be picked up by what you think are kind hands...just to be set right back down again. I get that people are busy, and have their own lives, but at the same time...what about my life? What about the fact that every time I'm brushed aside and put on the backburner, it hurts like hell. But they never notice. They carry on with their merry lives, give a 'well, sorry', and continue to do the very thing that hurts me, over and over. 
And I stick around.
Because I'm so insecure that I think that this is the best it's going to get; that small shimmer of hope that they'll hold me and spend time with me and make my miserable existence better, even for just a little while. No matter how many times I'm pushed aside for someone else, for something else, for some game or hot piece of ass...I keep coming back, like a lost kitten just wanting to be let in. 
That door never really opens, does it? 
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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But I don’t want small talk. Text me, and without saying hello, tell me why you got so angry at your sister this morning. Tell me why you have a scar shaped like Europe on the left side of your neck. Send me paragraphs about the time you spent at your grandmother’s house that one summer. Call me when I’m half asleep and tell me why you believe in God. Tell me about the first time you saw your dad cry. Go on for hours about things that may not seem important because I promise that I’ll be hanging on to every word you say. Tell me everything. I don’t want someone who just talks about the weather.
This. Yes this, is the very thing I love about humans. (via wornsoles-wornsouls)
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birdiedreams · 10 years ago
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So cozy.
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