zoloft

familial discussions about queer people and their stereotypes dawg 😭 if a woman has a punk or undercut hairstyle, she’s deemed a lesbian

eraser head is erased from life

maybe thou should kill thyself?

woah, buddy

I hate bob

can we pretend like it's the first time? 😭

I AM HURT THE DANCE IN THE ALTERNATE UNIVERSE THE FRENCH SONG OMG mais ma mellleure ennemie cést toi fuis-moi, le piree cést toi et moi mais si tu cherches encore ma voix oublie-moi, le pire cést toi et moi

and my heart abruptly deciding to imagine i have to compete with others for your care is a cliff on my smooth road to not feeling insecure about all my inter-personal relationships. but we've distanced from one another, and it would be irrational to assume i wouldn't feel like you don't belong to me and i to you. but is that still true? fights and tumbles have bruised us, so are we still us? are you still my everything?

this is your ode and you will never know it. your short and frizzy hair exuded the confidence our conversations were teeming with. it spoke volumes about your character, your willingness for change and the disregard for the judgment aunts' eyes covertly gave. i loved the smell, the writhing black mass that often misplaced itself over your eyes and temples, giving me the opportunity to move it out of the way and to say with my eyes, "you, i want you." but when our eyes dreaded meeting and the ambivalence seeped into the hellos we gave each other, i began associating it with a hole in my stomach. when someone with the same style passes by, i swear to myself and friends i saw just a little bit of you in their stranger eyes. looking back and realizing they're not you takes me back to the night we had forever ago. our locked hands made me forget the cold campus nights offer and looking at your eyes made me sink in autumn in the midst of winter. after we went our own ways that night, i texted words of love while hiding behind a chemical-link fence. when you declined what i thought would be flattery, i contemplated if whatever i wanted with you was available in solitude. perhaps, but the cold campus would get worse without your perfume sticking to my fingers and i grow weary of inner dialogues turned poetry. i ended up wanting the availability of "us" to linger, no matter how battered and deformed the hope may be. when i shared this hope with the friends i lay my worried head on i was told i had put you on a pedestal. i was told i didn't love you; i worshiped you. it became apparent that i robbed you the full freedom of being human, that i was watching you as this perfect force that dictated my happiness. it was clear everything i felt was an acute onset of obsession, unhealthy and disgustingly envious. my obsession was baseless. in fact, i deceived myself into thinking all the qualities i wanted from my beloved were present in your being. although, i don't think it was all a lie. the acceptance you showed towards my nasty habits reeled me in. i swallowed hook and line because of the way you hugged me and the way you laughed innocently at un-innocent jokes. and when i look at you across class, i swallow a little bit of the rod every time. oh, what it must feel like to see you and say to oneself, "she belongs to me." and i craved it. i craved. simply, the belonging you offered. in lonely days where i have no ones hands to hold, i still crave it, and i think a part of me always will. i remember your words said in a haze of infatuation on those days. "ARE YOU CHEATING ON ME?" and the way your demeanor changed when i talked about women. it seemed your jealousy was the currency of your care. but now, i'm bankrupt. i'll admit, with a tone of obviousness, that i was happier at a time i revelled in your attention and love, at a time where i was rich with your jealousy. it was an unspoken agreement that whispered, "i'm with you." but now, i'm bankrupt. this is your ode and you will never know it.

a touch, a look, tender and fleeting. we are scared little creatures aching for eternal belonging, that unspoken agreement that we are in this together and yet we avert our eyes. i lower my tone. i play it cool. i'll hold on to this real me, this messy apparition of vulnerability and tears until i find the one, someone who is worth it but, implicitly, i understand that this one will not accept the real me unconditionally. i will need to persuade them with something that is not quite me, some general attractive qualities; good looks, pleasant conversation, a worthy mask. is this deception? to reveal myself later on after I have tricked them into letting me in all for the selfish desire to be loved, to be at one with the other? and so i play it cool. what do we wish for when we wish to be loved? is it pure narcissism? the childish fantasy of endless affirmation that some poor being will afford you the constant reassurance that for example, you are permitted to be here, that your presence is tolerated if not appreciated? this isn't sustainable. resentment develops and a love based on self- admiration is like tickling yourself. you miss out on the pleasant surprises, the intolerable unpredictability of the other, of a whole separate soul afforded to love you how they see fit. if i admire my own looks, for example, i will wish to be admired by my looks, but what if they find something else unaccounted for? something also worth loving? what if they cherish the bed hair that I've always been ashamed of? what if they have fallen for my strange thoughts? perhaps i wish to be loved for the things i do not even consider lovable, and so that sort of love that demands that i am admired the way wish to be, well, that just isn't enough. do i wish for devotion, to give the other all of me? how simple it would be to answer any ambiguity in life: what am I to do, what am I to think of, with the simple answer of my beloved? "i will think of you. I will spend time with you." this too will bring resentment. to prop up another human as a God, as the arbiter of your life choices is to sign up for disappointment. is this not just a clever way of avoiding the responsibility that comes with freedom? to give it to the other completely. and surely there are plenty who are willing to do that for you; to take in your energy and agency and make you a tool of esteem and praise, and you will give it relentlessly until you find that they too are human. you do not love them; you worship them. nobody can live up to that. nobody deserves your freedom more than you do. so what is this desire to be loved? it is not to live for someone, to live below them, as it were. nor is it to live above them in constant affirmation. each leaves me incomplete. so, is this my desire? to feel complete? is this not achievable in solitude? perhaps, but the nights grow cold and i tire of these inner dialogues. life is hard enough on my own and i wish to make coffee for us. i wish for an us. all i know, beyond reason, that it is often better with others than alone. i do not wish to live for someone nor do i wish that someone would live for me. both forms of love guarantee resentment, bitterness and stagnation. so what do i live for? simply, i live and i know that it is better to live with another side by side. it is not always easy. we will misunderstand each other, we will bicker we will overstep and miscalculate our proximities. the inherent clumsiness of being guarantees conflict. but are these not the very points where love is most felt. is this not what we fight for, what we ache for? those awkward attempts at connection, when our masks slip off and we stare into our eyes, two shaking bundles of desire draped in our beautiful flaws whispering to each other "it's okay, i'm still here."

"although limerence seems to be totally about the LO, it is in fact totally about the person who is limerent. the person experiencing limerence has unmet relational needs, wants, desires, often from childhood, that somehow crystalise into a laser focused, intense desire for a single person (i.e., the LO)"

'her smell lingers on me. the hugs, feel like home. I replay, her hands wrapping around me over and over again. I replay, I willingly wrapped mine back. it feels so warm, she feels so warm. I love her. I love her.'

BUT I MUST ADMIT, I WOULD MARRY YOU IN AN INSTANT, DAMN YOUR WIFE, I'LL BE YOUR MISTRESS JUST TO HAVE YOU AROUND

damn, i wanted so much more than sex.

SOMEONE PLEASE KISS ME, IM GONNA GO CRAZY, PLEASE KISS ME PLEASE