im-here-where-are-you

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"just be yourself!" i never figured out who that is, though. i was supposed to know by now, right? like, other people my age do know. but i keep showing up to life and trying to find whatever "me" exists. that person is always disappearing at the last second, turns into wisp. i wish someone would just give me instructions. point to a horizon. a map. some kind of sign that says: go be this.

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A.F. Vandevorst installation for Arnhem Mode Biennale 2011

“A girl sleeping in a hospital bed in her A.F. Vandevorst dress. But here, the girl as well as the mattress and pillow are made out of candle wax. Once lit, what starts as a perfect image will slowly melt and perish during the biennale.”

[im-here-where-are-you]

it's not that I need a quiet day or a day off exactly; it's that I need a pocket of time that exists entirely outside of linear time as we know it that would allow me to get things done without time passing in the real world, and frankly, I don't think that's too much to ask.

[im-here-where-are-you]

don't want to write I want to think very hard about my fic until it emerges from my head fully formed like athena

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Of course I have body issues, I can’t explode into a thousand bats.

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you know how sometimes you see a shape from a distance and hope it's a cat or other small pettable animal. but it turns out to be just a plastic bag or something. well that's sort of what just happened to me, except for some reason i decided it must be a gargoyle statue someone had decided to abandon on the side of the road. so i think i may have just had a truly unique human experience.

[im-here-where-are-you]

reblog or reply with your love song. you know, the one that you think is what love sounds like

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“I have nothing to give you, nothing to carry, some words to make me less afraid, to say you gave me this. Memory insists with its sea voice, muttering from its bone cave. Memory wraps us like the shell wraps the sea. Nothing to carry, some stones to fill our pockets, to give weight to what we have.”

— Anne Michaels, from Memoriam  (via mothwood)

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some recommendations for "Hell Hath No Fury" books: The Poppy War by RF Kuang, All My Rage my Sabaa Tahir, Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn, Eileen by Ottessa Moshfegh, Stone Blind by Natalie Haynes, The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood, Circe by Madeline Miller, Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen María Machado, The Cruel Prince by Holly Black, Foul is Fair by Hannah Capin, A Certain Hunger by Chelsea G Summers

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Nicole Cliffe has a whole twitter thread about funny/horrifying anaesthesia stories that you should read all of, but this is definitely my favourite  

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Always in a constant state of "hmm maybe I wasn't as normal in that conversation as I thought I was"

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Quick dip, anyone?

Pennant Point Cove, Nova Scotia, Canada

[im-here-where-are-you]

They should invent a me that goes to bed at a reasonable time