Untitled #43
'I think your sister stopped eating again. '
I stare at the message bubble hovering over the news story I was reading, and fight off the urge to pretend I never saw it and check back later. I could respond in a few hours, something blase, with an apology like, 'so sorry, I didn't even see this!' and then we could move along quietly and talk about the weather or sports. But I know he's waiting on the other side of this conversation. Sitting in the quiet kitchen while soup simmers on the stove, staring at the screen and waiting for that little typing bubble to pop up.
'Why do you think that?'
His response is almost immediate.
'Because I just went to see her. She looks thin.'
I clench my jaw and glance away from the phone. I'd forgotten for a moment that I'm on the train and I need to be paying attention to the stops and the names being called over the staticky line. I'm wedged between the window and a teenager who's sprawled herself out so I have barely half a seat. She pops her gum and when she thinks I'm not paying attention, her eyes run over the text on my phone.
The resentment rumbling in me brings me back to that little message. My sister has probably stopped eating potato chips for dinner and she's probably lost the barely noticable pouch of fat she has supposedly sitting on her stomach. I doubt there's reason for alarm, but ever since her college roommate pulled him aside and said Bev wasn't eating, my father has been especially vigilant of her weight and it's slight fluctuations.
I know when I shed a pound my dad claps and my mom looks at me with those pointed eyebrows and tells me how great I look. She asks me for my secret.
'She IS thin.'
He doesn't respond as quickly this time, but when he does I feel a pang of guilt in my belly. I can see his dad gaze looking down at the phone and shaking his head just a little as he types the quick response and tosses the phone aside.
'Ok.'
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life is tough when you’re a lazy perfectionist who simultaneously doesn’t give a shit about anything but at the same time cares too much about everything you feel
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So plant your own gardens and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
Jorge Luis Borges (via jena-tran)
afreakingmen
(via mace-onymous)
(via thegoodquoteco)
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becoming an adult is a lot like when u are trying to get one ice cube from the cup into ur mouth and like 500 fall on ur face
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Hi, I’m a writer. My hobbies include not writing.
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Anyone who will reblogs this will get art depending on their url
Becuase I’m bored and want to draw
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I have no caption for this.
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"And then Legolas did a totally sick backflip and decapitated like 15 orcs. It was fuckin’ sweet"
J.R.R. Tolkien (apparently)
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I’m full of poetry now. Rot and poetry. Rotten poetry.
Ernest Hemingway, The Snows of Kilimanjaro (via rabbitinthemoon)
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