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SHORESY 2x04 | Players Only

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the first rule of tragedy is to have fun and be yourself. the second is to think about the themes forever and ever

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Somethings different about this time. Maybe it’s all the therapy, or maybe it’s that I’m 27 and I feel more embarrassed every time I end up here. I knew, when I was a kid—I knew. Everything since has been pretend, or naïveté, or desperation.

How many times can a girl say Love me? How many times does she have to beg? When I get off my knees I’m just left with bruises. I’m left looking at my hands and feeling dumb.

The unfortunate part of being a daughter is knowing your father, knowing the worst parts of him like you know the worst parts of yourself. He could be different, he just doesn’t want to.

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was playing "fetch" with the ocean today by tossing stones into it and watching them wash back up with the tide a few meters away, and it got me thinking about grief and the things we carry with us even after we lose them

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  Don Nace

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some of my favorite woven tapestries, by Cecilia Blomberg:

Point Defiance Steps

Mates

Rising Tides

Vashon Steps

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Was I ever this young (the answer is yes)

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I want a Fourth of July that feels like falling in and out of sleep in the back seat of the car on the way home from the fair and seeing fireworks in the distance while my mom quietly sings along to the radio

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Summer Was Forever by Chen Chen (transcript under the cut)

Keep reading

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I called off of work today and I took a nap on the couch. I made a new playlist. I took a bath. It's 93 and my ceiling fans are on full blast but I still had a glass of red wine. Okay, maybe I had two.

When I left his house on Thursday, I felt like I was twenty again. Not all good. It's been exciting, this thing - whatever it is. But the ambiguity feels familiar in that special way that I can't stand. I swore off grey areas when I was twenty. Okay, I didn't, but I should have.

My friend says to me, "I feel like it's supposed to be more exciting than this" and I know she's right. But sometimes he holds my face and it feels like he's holding the inside of my chest. What do you call that? How much is too much? When do you know it's worth the time?

When he's inside of me, I feel like I'm becoming something else entirely. We press our chests together and breathe the same air and I wonder if it's possible to make my heart beat the same as his. But I don't ask if he's seeing someone else, even after finding the silver earring back on the windowsill in his bathroom. When he asks what I'm thinking, I lie.

I believe in self-preservation. What do you call it, though, when you like the self-sacrificing of it all? How do you give yourself to someone without complete surrender? If it's not too much, it's never enough. I am always wanting more, more, more. A bottomless pit. A well of never-ending want.

I light a candle and wait. Not for him, though. For a feeling I'm not even sure exists. For a sign or a gift or a certainty I know will never come. If you're asking, then yeah - I do consider myself a romantic. It's more than exhausting. It's brutal. I love it.

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ABBOTT ELEMENTARY 3.14 Party

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Father’s Day as What Now?

Father’s Day as writing a check for an apology. Father’s Day as day drinking. Father’s Day as DNA test. Father’s Day as scapegoat. Father’s Day as “yeah it’s better now”. Father’s Day as back against the wall. Father’s Day as learning to be afraid. Father’s Day as praying for death or illness or reversal of birth or nothing at all.

Father’s Day as I still remember. Father’s Day as at least but. Father’s Day as that one finger eleven song. Father’s Day as “damn, I really do belong to him”.

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Hey when you guys say something is for the lovers and the dreamers can you include me in that too? The lovers the dreamers and me if it's not too much to ask

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whatever. WHATEVER.

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“child abuse language is domestic abuse language is cop language is dad language is I’m warning you language is don’t make me tell you again is punishment language is the prison guard’s language and we learn it early is the torturer’s language don’t say I didn’t warn you is the seed of fascism already here”

— Daniel Sarah Karasik, ““tough but fair”,” Plenitude

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some of you guys are so fucking 19 years old. i wish you well but god have mercy on your souls

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Facetious KellyAna (British, based North London, England) - Departures, 2008, Photography