« To the past
Page 1 of 4
May 25, 2012
(via ohhhmygoddess)
May 20, 2012
Peanut Butter by Eileen Myles
I am always hungry
& wanting to have
sex. This is a fact.
If you get right
down to it the new
unprocessed peanut
butter is no damn
good & you should
buy it in a jar as
always in the
largest supermarket
you know. And
I am an enemy
of change, as
you know. All
the things I
embrace as new
are in
fact old things,
re-released: swimming,
the sensation of
being dirty in
body and mind
summer as a
time to do
nothing and make
no money. Prayer
as a last re-
sort. Pleasure
as a means,
and then a
means again
with no ends
in sight. I am
absolutely in opposition
to all kinds of
goals. I have
no desire to know
where this, anything
is getting me.
When the water
boils I get
a cup of tea.
Accidentally I
read all the
works of Proust.
It was summer
I was there
so was he. I
write because
I would like
to be used for
years after
my death. Not
only my body
will be compost
but the thoughts
I left during
my life. During
my life I was
a woman with
hazel eyes. Out
the window
is a crooked
silo. Parts
of your
body I think
of as stripes
which I have
learned to
love along. We
swim naked
in ponds &
I write be-
hind your
back. My thoughts
about you are
not exactly
forbidden, but
exalted because
they are useless,
not intended
to get you
because I have
you & you love
me. It’s more
like a playground
where I play
with my reflection
of you until
you come back
and into the
real you I
get to sink
my teeth. With
you I know how
to relax. &
so I work
behind your
back. Which
is lovely.
Nature
is out of control
you tell me &
that’s what’s so
good about
it. I’m immoderately
in love with you,
knocked out by
all your new
white hair
why shouldn’t
something
I have always
known be the
very best there
is. I love
you from my
childhood,
starting back
there when
one day was
just like the
rest, random
growth and
breezes, constant
love, a sand-
wich in the
middle of
day,
a tiny step
in the vastly
conventional
path of
the Sun. I
squint. I
wink. I
take the
ride.
May 18, 2012
she makes my heart beat in my ears
like that smell gardenias give you fresh and forgetful together
THE QUALITY OF BEING STRONG TO BE LOVED IS GROSS
feelings of burning
like i ate one two three many peanuts
time dissolves away on flesh
it does not keep time
or bounce
IT WILL NOT EVEN CLOTHE YOU
so stop pretending
do not try again
you may not put air back into kindness you
punctured BUT PRETEND IT IS A SPACE YOU CAN LIVE IN
this absence
turn the levain
braid the dough
go to bed
I GROW FLOWERS FROM MY HEAD DID YOU KNOW
you’re missing out.
May 17, 2012
(Source: madeleineishere, via jackrad)
May 15, 2012
i will cook you great breakfast
and bake you cookies and shit like that
just kiss my face
(Source: leahpetruska, via oh-sara)
May 15, 2012
the pain behind your eyes that is sleeplessness
it doesn’t go away with advil
or with doing your favorite thing
or with realizing you have a beautiful thing to live for
a thing that will live without you
BUT OF COURSE YOU SHOULD PUT IT IN THE OVEN AND THEN
FEED YOUR COUNTRY FEED YOUR COUNTRY FEED YOUR COUNTRY FOOD
OMG I AM THE LUCKIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD WITH THIS FLOUR UNDER MY FINGER NAILS WITH THIS HEAD OF MATTED HAIR FROM MY FRAYED SCARF KEEPING THE PLATINUM BLONDE ASYMMETRY OUTTA THE BREAD IT GOES BETTER WITH BUTTER YOU KNOW OR JAM OR FUCK I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU PUT ON YOUR BREAD I MADE IT I LOVE IT THAT IS ALL THAT MATTERS EVER EVER EVER MAKE SAMMICHES PLEASE
the end.
there is never actually an end. just keep the longing inside your body. remember you are happy remember NOTHING EVER LOVES BACK NOTHING NOTHING EVER
prioritize that broken heart that thing that feels the worst goes at the end then the other things can be real can make it easy not harder FUCK STRONGER FASTER HARDER
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