Today

I've been thinking a lot lately about change. Things being different than they once were. People being different. I was worried about my characters. Worried they won't change enough. They will. All in time. So will I. People don't want to read about characters who stay the same. They want to read about how people change. Sometimes we try to change. Sometimes we just live and that changes us. We're part of a process.

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You never know when your life is going to change. It just does. The days you wake up on thinking they'll be big...sometimes they are but most often not. It's the little days, when your life changes in ways you never imagined. You wake up one person and you go to bed someone else. I don't think my life will change one bit the day I graduate from college. But my life changed today.

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At this moment in time I have no idea what the rest of my life will be like. I am grateful for this.

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James Hoch thinks this poem is a masterpiece. I'm not sure about that but I like it too.

For Next Time

It’s hard to tell someone:
take this piece of me,
I’ll take this one of you,
we’ll go out into the world
away from each other
but I promise to come back,
return it safely,
and take one exactly like it –

I loved this

"Even though sometimes the world seems about six sizes too small for our pain the amazing shit is that no matter how deep purple the bruise is
no matter how dark and overwhelming and miserable and worthless it all seems the world will get a fraction of an inch bigger every day.

Really, every fucking day.

And you won't notice it for a long time until suddenly, one day, it's only five times too small for your pain and then four and then the world will just keep getting larger and larger in comparison to your shattered heart and eventually it will be able to hold it and then it will outgrow it.

And your pain will be just a speck in your world."

What the fuck is this nonsense?

So, I came across this picture tonight. It was just chilling in the depths of my hard drive. So, I happened upon it and then I spent roughly the next ten minutes convulsing with laughter. Because there are SO MANY THINGS I don't understand about this picture. Such as:

-Amy's face.

-The fact that this was ONLY FOUR YEARS AGO.

-The necklace I'm wearing (LOfuckingL)

-How I look even vaguely okay because I know for a fact I had a breakdown in the bathroom not more than like fifteen minutes before this was taken. Because that's what I did in high school. Cried over straight girls in bathrooms. At awards ceremonies. Ceremonies. Plural.

-Why Carly looks like she had been beaten.

-What Allie Pondelick is doing in this picture. Seriously. Why? No, really. WHY HOW WAS THIS NORMAL?

-My belt. A sign of things to come? I THINK SO.

Also, look at how badly everyone here is trying not to touch anyone else. Lmao.

I loved this

"It isn’t that to have an honorable relationship with you, I have to understand everything, or tell you everything at once, or that I can know, beforehand, everything I need to tell you.

It means that most of the time I am eager, longing for the possibility of telling you. That these possibilities may seem frightening, but not destructive, to me. That I feel strong enough to hear your tentative and groping words. That we both know we are trying, all the time, to extend the possibilities of truth between us.

The possibility of life between us."

-Adrienne Rich

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“for next time.”

Sometimes it’s a blunt
overarching statement:
“Don’t get hit by a bus.”
Other times it’s uttered in code
because it’s too hard to say
and too important not to say.

It’s hard to tell someone,
take this piece of me,
I’ll take this one of you,
we’ll go out into the world
away from each other
but I promise to come back,
return that piece safely,
put it back and take one
exactly like it

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Open

He might have been going for
sensuality – an open-mouthed kiss.
He may just have been talking
about opening a door.
Or legs.
But
I think the idea he was going for
was if you just
open your chest to the universe
and forget everything you know
about who’s supposed to like who
you might be surprised
at who you want to kiss.

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Close Friends

It makes me wonder
when my straight friends
can look at a woman staring,

ostensibly for hours,
through a schoolhouse window
at another woman teaching
and still think
they’re just close friends.

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1940

I don’t care if the door frame

draws a line between them.

The door between them

is only screen.

I don’t care if one of them is

in a button down shirt and vest

and the other’s in a sundress.

They're both still asking

the same question.

I don’t care if they don’t know

their hands are six inches apart

on either side of the wall.

They’re both still reaching

for each other.

One softly and one

with so much strength.

I don’t care if it was 1940.

I just want them to tear the door

open and kiss.

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Purple Heart

Last night I found this plastic purple heart

You had given me the first Valentine’s Day

I was in love with you.

I found a fortune from a cookie

I must have crammed down inside it.

Pulled it out and read

“Never put all of your eggs in one basket”

I always did put all of my hope

In your heart.

You called me up later,

“Uh, oh. What’s wrong, buddy?”

You just knew by the way I said hello.

I didn't want to tell you

All I did say was,

“You owe me some sympathy pancakes."

“Ah. Sorry. How’s Tuesday?”

“Tuesday is perfect."