I want- I want to be a writer. And not in the sense that I’m writing and that, by definition, makes me a writer – it’s what I want to do with my life. And it feels... really lonely sometimes. Not the actual writing – of course that’s mostly solitary. But feeling like I can’t tell anyone, it almost makes me think it doesn’t really exist” -Rowan.
Finally, I grab my oval wire-rimmed glasses, which I fell in love with because they make me look like I wasn’t from this century, and sometimes living in another century was the most appealing thing I could imagine.
I can barely commit to a skin-care regimen. I’m not sure how to commit to a major.
Breaking News: Texas is hot. Texas in June deserves its own circle of hell.
If I kissed you again, it wouldn’t be for the show, or for research, or for any reason other than that I wanted to. I’d want to remember every detail. The way you taste. The way you smell. The sounds you’d make.
Are we telling people to “share the gospel,” which is actually just explaining “how to be saved” and go to heaven and does not mirror at all what we find in the biblical text?
Life is dear to every living thing; the worm that crawls upon the ground will struggle for it. At that moment it was dear to me, enslaved and treated as I was.
It could not be that a free citizen of New-York, who had wronged no man, nor violated any law, should be dealt with thus inhumanly. The more I contemplated my situation, however, the more I became confirmed in my suspicions. It was a desolate thought, indeed. I felt there was no trust or mercy in unfeeling man; and commending myself to the God of the oppressed, bowed my head upon my fettered hands, and wept most bitterly.
The sun shone out warmly; the birds were singing in the trees. The happy birds – I envied them. I wished for wings like them, that I might cleave the air to where my birdlings waited vainly for their father’s coming, in the cooler region of the North.
We need to start to talk about money in ways that dethrone it and make it subject to human ethics and standards of love and decency.
Time and chance is common to all men. Let us make use of the time and chances given to impact our generation.
The opportunity demonstrate your love is now.
What is belonging?” we ask. She says, “Where loneliness ends.
Forgetting was not the same as healing.
I am a boy and a girl and a witch all wrapped into one very strange, flimsy, indecisive body. Do you think my body couldn’t decide what it wanted to be?
Pretty was a strange thing to concern oneself over. Pretty was subjective and fallacious.
One can only go for so long without asking ‘who am I?’, ‘where do I come from?’, ‘what does all this mean?’, ‘what is being?’, ‘what came before me and what might come after?’. Without answers there is only a hole. A hole where a history should be that takes the shape of an endless longing. We are cavities.
People do not know what to make of me, and this pleases me. I don’t want to be scrutable.
The deep will be our sibling, our parent, our relief from endless solitude. Down here, we are wrapped up. Down here, we can pretend the dark is the black embrace of another.
Poor, poor books. Lonely pages bound in lonely leather, their only company the occasional louse. They exist only t be read, and yet with no one there to read them, they might as well not have been bornt at all. I run my fingers along the spines of the books I can reach. I do it to affirm them. To let them know I’m a lover of stories even stories about alchematics or biology and other true things.