i might seem so strong, and some days i am. and some days, its never been so bad. worse than i even remember. waves of anxiety so raw my whole body aches. i can barely stand. i can’t stop losing weight. i have no ideas. i have nothing to tell you about it.

Tags: pain

"1 AM.
I am afraid to write anything down these days -to document the changing wind of my life lest it become permanent.
To miss a person I am standing beside.
To love what is absent.
To be alone in a snow-globe with beautiful weather."

— John Sands - Last Night (via grammatolatry)

remember your body. water hotter than you can stand. sit on the shower floor. the word devastated ringing the tub. buildings collapsed into themselves. ribs caving toward the spine. recite the strongest poem you know. a spell against the lonely that gets you in crowds and on three hours’ sleep. wonder where the gods are now. get up. because death is not an alternative. because this is what you do. air like soup, move. door, hallway, room. pants, socks, shoes. sweater. coat. cold. wish you were a bird. remember you are not you, now. you are you a year from now. how does that woman walk? she is not sick or sad. doesn’t even remember today. has been to Europe. what song is she humming? now. right now. that’s it.

— from survival poem #17, marty mcconnell

"Pain is important: how we evade it, how we succumb to it, how we deal with it, how we transcend it."

Audre Lorde

(via revelationwithoutreligion)

(via fuckyeahyoga)

— don’t swallow the cap; the national.

I have only two emotions, Careful fear and dead devotion. I can’t get the balance right. Throw my marbles in the fight.

i’m moving. with an addition ;)

to here:

http://alifeofloveletters.tumblr.com/

this story is all storied out. chapter = closed. need a fresh start. a more honest start. cleaner, truthier. with -25% less Feelings. (that’s prob not true).

hope to see you there….

"Find someone like yourself. Find others.
Agree you will never desert each other.
Understand that any rift among you
means power to those who want to do you in.
Close to the center, safety; toward the edges, danger.
But I have a nightmare to tell: I am trying to say
that to be with my people is my dearest wish
but that I also love strangers
that I crave separateness
I hear myself stuttering these words
to my worst friends and my best enemies
who watch for my mistakes in grammar
my mistakes in love.
This is the day of atonement; but do my people forgive me?
If a cloud knew loneliness and fear, I would be that cloud."

— Adrienne Rich, from “Yom Kippur 1984” (via growing-orbits)

"You go on by doing the best you can, you go on by being generous, you go on by being true, you go on by offering comfort to others who can’t go on, you go on by allowing the unbearable days to pass and allowing the pleasure in other days, you go on by finding a channel for your love and another for your rage." — Dear Sugar aka Cheryl Strayed

prettyfucking-ninja:

Jolene - Ray LaMontagne

(Source: albinowatermelon, via rememo)

who’s strong enough, all the days of the fall, to not let the cold creep in; who’s strong enough the warmth slips away, not to turn the cold inward?

today is rosh hashanah, the jewish new year. i’m not particularly secular, but spiritual in a particular way. i recognize that some holidays hold more meaning than others. that by celebrating them, i am taking part in a long legacy of tradition which connects me to the past of my ancestors and first tiny inklings of my DNA. my mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, all the way back to before i think there is any record that my family existed at all: they all marked these days as a new beginning. l’shana tovah - for a good year. somewhere, 200 years ago, someone with the same bridge in their nose, the same tough fibers and dark eyes, with the same guttural depth to her voice might have said that to her neighbor. my great-great-great-great-grandmother.

these days are the days of reflection; remembrance of the bitter, the sweet, the totality of shifting that can occur in only 365 days. this fall marks the beginning of a new life. 365 days of change; not necessarily transformative, but so grounding. so full of love. so solid. if last year was about breaking free and moving upward, this year was about sending down roots. roots that can’t be pulled up, can’t be moved.

in one year: i had just started seeing lauren, which really meant i had just fallen terrifically in love with lauren. we went away together to nyack for the first time. i moved into a new apartment. then we moved into a new apartment, slowly, slowly. i re-evaluated my life. i quit my job. i started teaching full time. i helped open a yoga studio. i taught two teacher trainings. i got certified in antigravity yoga. i went up to the catskills, twice. i started a new business. some friends left, some friends found. my teachers turned out to be flawed human beings. lauren and i went to california together. our moms met for the first time. we split thanksgivings. we split christmas. we shook off the past. we fell more in love. we found kittens and took them in. we regretted that after the bills. and also we didn’t. we learned how to know each other. we learned what we didn’t know we had to learn. we cried, we laughed uncontrollably. i never loved anyone more. we struggled to make ends meet. we grew. we worked hard, we worked harder. at everything. we said forever. we got engaged. we said forever.

little by little, the world changes around me. who i am, changed, little by little. and now we’re planning an engagement party. a wedding. moving to a new apartment. opening a joint bank account. melding our worlds together, a day at a time. we move forward. we create a new life.

l’shana tovah is shortened from l’shana tovah tikitevi v’taihatemi, which means “May you be inscribed and sealed for a good new year.” i feel now, more than ever, that a new life is starting, a life that i wanted but didn’t really understand how it would feel. it feels like walking for the first time, like re-learning who i am, who i can be, and who we are together.

on this holiday, tradition states we walk to a river to wash away our sins from the past year, to cast off the old and let it sink into the water. you have to be willing to take the first steps in, and inch by inch the water laps up, crawls up the skin, pulling the old away and clinging to the stones that keep you in the past. pulling them down, and you slip under you hold your breath, and when you come up the inhale becomes your first breath, is a new breath, is the first of the year.

"May you be inscribed and sealed for a good new year". i think its time to step forward, to start clean and seal this journal for good. you must let go of the stones you hold in your pockets or you will sink with them. i want to let this year swell with new beginnings, with this sweet new life, to write the final lines of this year, and to close the book; a clean white page. the strongest, blackened ink. the taste of honey. to walk back out of the river, soaked in blessings, to reach for her hand, and start our new life together.

thingsandschemes:

- SMBC



HA HA HA

thingsandschemes:

- SMBC

HA HA HA

(via theinvertionist)

"what is this ‘going for a run’ you speak of" — said the person sitting at the kitchen counter for 2 hours deleting old emails and entering her schedule into i-cal.

wingspan:

Lali Puna- Remember

its fall.

fishingboatproceeds:


It is of course always dangerous to make conclusions about an author from her/his books.
But like a lot of readers, especially teen readers, I thought about the lives of authors all the time when I read their books.
I was a big fan of Bret Easton Ellis in high school, but I always suspected he was a jerk.
For better or worse, twitter has allowed us to know much more about the actual human beings who write books. It turns out that I was totally right about Bret Easton Ellis being a jerk!
Wallace’s work can be needy (but it is self-consciously needy). It can be conservative (but so what? In both structure and language, Wallace’s work was also more radical and disruptive than any contemporary novelist I’ve read. Certainly up there with Toni Morrison. The tension between the conservative ideas in a postmodern context is part of what makes Wallace’s work so important and interesting).
But I am really bothered by the accusation of pretension. I don’t really know why it annoys me so much. I guess Ellis’s central talent is as an irritant. I suspect he wouldn’t even mind my saying so, which is even more irritating. But anyway, in my opinion Wallace’s writing is radically unpretentious. Wallace’s stories tackle very complex ideas in ways that are consistently playful and accessible, and that is their genius. Yes, Wallace’s work can be exhausting and tedious because of its obsessive need to be clear and precise and intellectually rigorous. But that isn’t pretension.




WOAH omg could you be any more melodramatic*.  Mr Ellis please SLOW YOUR ROLL you are crusin real fast into former headcheerleader that didn’t make the squad this year territory. relax.

fishingboatproceeds:

It is of course always dangerous to make conclusions about an author from her/his books.

But like a lot of readers, especially teen readers, I thought about the lives of authors all the time when I read their books.

I was a big fan of Bret Easton Ellis in high school, but I always suspected he was a jerk.

For better or worse, twitter has allowed us to know much more about the actual human beings who write books. It turns out that I was totally right about Bret Easton Ellis being a jerk!

Wallace’s work can be needy (but it is self-consciously needy). It can be conservative (but so what? In both structure and language, Wallace’s work was also more radical and disruptive than any contemporary novelist I’ve read. Certainly up there with Toni Morrison. The tension between the conservative ideas in a postmodern context is part of what makes Wallace’s work so important and interesting).

But I am really bothered by the accusation of pretension. I don’t really know why it annoys me so much. I guess Ellis’s central talent is as an irritant. I suspect he wouldn’t even mind my saying so, which is even more irritating. But anyway, in my opinion Wallace’s writing is radically unpretentious. Wallace’s stories tackle very complex ideas in ways that are consistently playful and accessible, and that is their genius. Yes, Wallace’s work can be exhausting and tedious because of its obsessive need to be clear and precise and intellectually rigorous. But that isn’t pretension.

WOAH omg could you be any more melodramatic*. Mr Ellis please SLOW YOUR ROLL you are crusin real fast into former headcheerleader that didn’t make the squad this year territory. relax.

(via michelledean)

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