buglymcbugson - Tumblr blog

[buglymcbugson]

hehehe what the fuck i am so in love

[buglymcbugson]

wrote this on a first date, think i knew something…

mismatched mugs with two different types of tea

the eclectic coloured couches of her favourite cafe

regular customers’ conversations mixing in with the songs playing overhead

songs that will quickly be added to our respective playlists that remind us of each other

her touch is unbroken but never overbearing

like a reminder that she’s always there

she feels like a cluster of sun rays in the middle of winter

hitting your face with such a fervent glow that you forget you haven’t felt warmth in months

if i’m careful i can sneak a glance without her noticing

i can watch her immersed in her words

her eyes scanning the jumble of thoughts she’s written

the minuscule changes on her face giving away the emotions she felt in that moment

emotions that were strong enough for her to grab a pen and capture them

i could sit here with her for eternity

but she’s caught me looking

and now she’s looking at me

the way she sees me makes me feel like i’m on fire

my skin burns for her before she even lifts a finger

i didn’t know calmness and intensity could exist together so seamlessly

when our eyes are locked the rest of the world slips away

i can no longer hear the conversations around me

the colourful couches and mismatched mugs may as well exist in another universe

because in this moment i feel like it is just her

and that feels strong enough to grab a pen and capture it

i want to wrap my arms around this day and take it home and name it

[buglymcbugson]

the beauty of authentic representation (hi from canada!!) :

walking through the quiet brownstones of a new (for me) city

the sun has gone down on a scorching early autumn day

remnants of the striking rays still rising off the pavement

creating a heat reminiscent of long autumn nights in the midwest

running barefoot under trees full of cicada shells with the cousins we’d see annually

the air smells the same - the stuffiness that filters through the yellowing leaves of deciduous trees, foreign to a kid from the rainforest, and clogs your lungs

our legs ache, but the good kind of ache, where they’ve carried you through the exploration of a new town and are now begging to sit down in a local pub

the houses are nice, i imagine the one i would want

in a far off universe where the market is stable and i find a good job right out of school

i take the turret off the house on spadina and the green trimmed balcony from the one in parkdale

there is one i pass whose door is wide open

its bright kitchen lights combatting the dark of the suburban night, projecting its inhabitants’ lives out to passerbys admiring houses

there is a woman in the kitchen with a towel on her shoulder like my mum does when she bakes

she’s humming along to the light jazz playing overhead and takes a tray out of the oven

the floor behind her has bursts of colour throughout in the form of children’s toys: a beach ball here, an inside out costume dress there

but there is no kid insight, she exists in a self created moment of peace in what one can only assume is a chaotic life, at least from the outside looking in

there is another woman out front in the garden

it’s such a wonderful garden, i’ve added it to my imaginary house

she’s hanging laundry on the line, guided only by light of the twinkly strings hanging from the porch

she looks back through the open door and locks eyes with the other with a kind of smile reserved only for a love so sweet

i add that smile, and that love, to my imaginary house

[buglymcbugson]

mac and i camped at the bottom of victoria’s tallest mountain where our early morning giggles were met with the rushing sound of the river

we awoke with the sun our first morning, and emerged from the back of my forester once we couldn’t see out of the foggy windows anymore

we trudged along through the cold, watching the snow line get closer and closer as we approached the alpine, existing in the comfortable silence of each others presence

as we exited the tree line the deep white fog that was covering the world around us began to roll, revealing snow capped mountains silhouetted against the crisp blue sky, as if it was parting just to welcome us

at the top i taught her how to walk in the snow so she wasn’t slipping as much and assured her she was safe with me

we found a rock poking out of the snow, dry enough to sit down - so there we sat holding each other in our arms, eating dried figs with dark chocolate, and in that moment we were the only people in the world

as i held her on top of that mountain i could feel her heart beat increase so i looked down to meet her eyes. she got that little grin she gets when she’s nervous, and i knew.

we curled up that night back in my forester, each with aching legs and one more girlfriend than we had started the day with

loving you is such an easy thing to do

[buglymcbugson]

mmm that sweet soft 5pm light is coming through and lighting up the world around me

the sky is orange!!

there is a man at the tram stop with me - some may use less that desirable words to describe him and his under the breath ranting and pacing

i think he looks quite dapper in his trench coat

a child from the school across the road rode past us on his bike

the man held out his hand for a high five and the kid gave him the look you’re meant to give strange adults you don’t know

he kept biking but then paused, turned around, and smiled at the man

they shared a fist bump and he then kept on with his bike ride into the orange sky

human existence is so blissful

[buglymcbugson]

you know when you see someone for the first time in a long time and you say “wow it’s like no time has passed”

today i saw him for the first time and i could feel every second that has passed in the last 3.5 years

my chest is heavy with the memory of before

his words slithering down my throat and constricting my ability to breathe

but i must remind myself that now it’s after and i am safe

the time has passed and i am better for it

my heart rate is slowly returning to normal

3.5 years and all the time has passed

i saw him and i saw just how much that time has changed us

he looks eerily the same albeit harder in a way, my glasses today have their clear lenses in

those with the rose tint left in the back of some closet several countries and many moons ago

he’s similar but i’m wholly different as a being i wouldn’t even recognise myself if i were him

just as i don’t recognise pictures of myself from when i thought i was being loved

i could feel every second of the last 3.5 years

and every experience that has added distance between us

distance that always felt insurmountable

until he was standing in front of me today, close enough to read his brother’s name tattooed on his wrist

and in that moment i was 19 again and had somehow shrunk to the minuscule size he treated me as

i could feel the last time i cried over the way he made me feel

i could feel the excitement and hope that only ever ended in crushed disappointment

i could feel the put downs and digs disguised as flirting that made me question parts of myself for longer than he was ever a part of me

i could feel the embarrassment - that he emanated off of himself when i’d say the wrong things

i could feel the embarrassment of myself that i learnt through his “loving”

i saw him and i could feel the beauty that has grown inside of me once he was no longer there taking up space

i saw him and whispered his name not quite loud enough for him to look and felt the comforting hand of a friend

who loves me and knows me and makes me feel safe

and i was safe

i am safe

i am surrounded by love

and every second that passes i am further from him and closer to me

some cute piccies from before

[buglymcbugson]

my review for barbie 🌸

girlhood in a nutshell is a bond

a shared experience

girlhood is universal

a transcendence of language, culture, and religion

girlhood was the giggles in the back of my mum’s subaru

and late nights that turned into early mornings during sleepovers

shared first crushes

borrowed tampons when my friend’s first period came as a surprise

it was the collective dissection of boys’ text messages that came through my LG Xpression phone in cherry red

it was buying my prom dress only after my girlfriends gave their stamp of approval

girlhood was constant comparison and always feeling different but never knowing why

girlhood is the line in the women’s restroom at a club when a stranger is screaming in your face telling you how beautiful you are

i wonder if that stopped happening because i stopped clubbing? or because i stopped wearing dresses

girlhood was the night i met my best friend

and the way i held her as she collapsed to the bar floor in tears

it is being connected because of the things we have had taken from us and the abuse we have suffered because of that girlhood

but somehow despite this, neither of us ended up as girls

girlhood was the perfect, even division of the world into two parts

us versus them

but now i feel like it may be them versus me

[buglymcbugson]

my day today

my brain awoke me in a flurry this morning - the rampage of thoughts already bouncing around my skull before the rest of my body even had a chance to stir. soft, gentle kisses were able to quiet everything until i could open my eyes to the morning light pouring through the broken bit of my blinds. stillness came, followed by giggles and morning whispers.

the middle bits of my day didn’t seem all that significant - a middle aged woman with a doctorate asking me about my childhood, coffee with someone i once loved but now sometimes struggle to converse with, a briefly opened laptop, an adventure to a new (for me) second hand bookshop, a very yummy avocado toast, and my first trip to the grocery store despite being back in the country over a week (what have i been eating?).

i’m writing this sitting on a bench at my favourite dog park. the early evening winter sun is shining through the trees which have been planted in a perfect oval. the soft yellow light illuminates the literature in my lap - i am encapsulated in the lesbian love story from the 20s, even more so knowing she’s read these words before me. on the benches around me are others dwelling in companionship and human existence - there’s a couple on a first date and a father and son getting a dog walk in before basketball practice. a beagle is loudly making his joy known for all of us to hear as he chases a bright orange ball.

human (and pup) existence is so goddamn endearing

[buglymcbugson]

going back to uni tomorrow 🤮

will have to focus on things other than writing queer poetry and reading the books from her bedside table??

just shoot me already

[buglymcbugson]

home again home again and oh it’s so sweet

[buglymcbugson]

lot of feelings in my head that i don’t have any way to communicate or put into eloquent prose. i miss my friends and am feeling like an alien in an environment that used to feel like home.

[buglymcbugson]

the tumultuous adventure of sending a love letter from malaysia

we’re leaving the city today and i’m unsure what kind of facilities i’ll have in the jungle. who knows if there will be a post office so this morning was my last chance to send the letter i wrote full of minuscule travel stories and staggering feelings. my eyes drifted open before my alarm and i got myself up, slipping into the silence to avoid awaking the stranger sleeping next to me. there is an air to an early morning in a foreign country that i love, watching the shop keepers bumbling about preparing for a day of selling cheap souvenirs to those with enough privilege to come to their home. letter in hand i traversed over the slippery sidewalks covered in the rain that accompanied today’s sunrise until i reached the Pejabat Pos - it was quite naive of me to believe google maps when it said the post office opened at 8am on a Sunday so i wasn’t too surprised to see a large gate blocking my way to picking out the perfect stamp. I thought i’d try a corner store (the malaysian version of 7/11 is called orange) but it doesn’t seem like many people bother with snail mail these days. why is that? at what point of technological development did people collectively decide that taking the time to hand write the thoughts in your head to someone special become inconvenient? the search for a stamp continued. i wandered into a hotel much nicer than my own - my faded plastic hotel key card thumping about my pocket - and asked the kind woman at the desk to send my letter to australia. i gave her just 2ringit and was back on the street, one love letter lighter. i wondered if it would actually make it out with the post monday morning and if she’ll actually receive it or if it’ll get lost somewhere in the ether during its journey. either way it’s now out of hands. my meander back to the hotel before our 9:30am bus departure led me to the local sunday market. i found a ring stand which would have made beautiful editions to my collection but i hadn’t put my set back on after my dives yesterday and i wasn’t brave enough to buy one without seeing the cohesive collection all together. maybe for the best, my malay isn’t good enough to ask the kind man behind the rings if they’ll turn my fingers green. i bought some souvenirs for my friends instead - with a smile on my face thinking about having people to buy souvenirs for. my walk back left me sweaty and i had just enough time to sit in the cool hotel room before getting on the bus. on the way to the village now! i wonder if there will be a post office after all?

[buglymcbugson]

grappling with self identity and what allows me to feel like myself while still being respectful of the local culture

when the locals gifted us sarongs they gave me one of the “female” ones - but i thought the others were super cool

[buglymcbugson]

read some poetry on the wall of a local cafe and took a picture to send to her

[buglymcbugson]

day 2 in borneo wrapped up… still adjusting to the unnatural feeling of group travel but my “people i like on this trip” list has grown by at least 3 today and i’ve deepened a friendship that i believe is going to be very very good!! (yay for queer trauma bonding)

i have been so underwhelmed by the metropolitan experience thus far but took a TINY walk into the woods today and already felt immensely better… looking forward to our visits to the jungles and villages and getting tf out of KK

i LOVE collecting photos of stop signs in foreign countries… something about the familiar shape with a different language - so fun!

adventuring and documenting every drink mol has that is bigger than their head

so deep in my lover era🫣 no one ruin the surprise that i’m sending her a letter teehee

only dancing! 🕺

[buglymcbugson]

my bones are so happy

[buglymcbugson]

*cue john denver - leaving on a jet plane*

i’m waiting for this plane to take off and i’m nervous.

for so long the sterile smell of a 747 was deeply familiar.

the walk down the gangway.

the slide into the seat.

each movement down to a science of repetition.

even during the days of covid where people would talk about how much they missed travel.

to me, the planes were just simply a bit more empty.

a plane has always brought me to something, but more importantly

it has always been there to take me away from something.

for so long that was for the best.

planes have carried me away from so much pain.

the first time i ran i remember looking down to the sparkling lights of a fresh start - the plane carrying me away from my fathers booming voice and my stinging inner arms.

sometimes the plane would carry me away from worries of algebra tests and essays.

at 16 the plane carried me away from the pain i was still piecing together with a spotty memory and sore body.

a few years later the plane carried me away from everything i had ever known - to run from who i had been and towards the person i have morphed myself into.

for 21 years of my life my fight or flight responses have been called upon.

i was so fucking tired of fighting - the flight was all i had left.

but now there’s nothing left for me to fight.

i am safe.

i am secure.

i am loved - in my good moments, but miraculously and most importantly in my bad ones.

i am far from everyone i’ve run from

and have found the people i want to run towards.

now that there’s nothing left for me to fight, i don’t really want to be on this flight.

i don’t want to run.

i want to be home.

this sterile airplane smell is now unsettling to me.

i’m reminding myself it’s only a holiday but there is a little voice in my head asking: what if this plane is taking me away and won’t bring me back?

when DA FUCK did i become so attached and secure?!