honestmonkey

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Cecil Castellucci, First Day on Earth

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girl, i feel you all around me. the sensory is finally picking up and i’m burping my food i ate an hour ago, vegetables and spice and tequila. Girl, when i move by you without enough space i was to dig my face into your neck. It isnt that i want more, it’s that i want present. i feel it more than ever when i’m in a heightened state

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laaaawwwdddd

Joanne Woodward and Paul Newman

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I’m taller than this man but fuck the things I’d do to him whhhhhhaaaat

MY MAN CRUSH MONDAY IS…JAMES McAVOY

James McAvoy was born April 21, 1979 which makes him 41 years old and a Taurus. James, born in Glasgow, Scotland, is an actor. He is perhaps best known for portraying Professor Charles Xavier - aka Professor X - in X-Men: First Class, X-Men: Days of Future Past, X-Men: Apocalypse and Dark Phoenix. He has also starred in the following films: The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, The Last King of Scotland, Atonement, Wanted, Gnomeo and Juliet, Muppets Most Wanted, The Disappearance of Elanor Rigby, Victor Frankenstein, Split, Atomic Blonde, Sherlock Gnomes, Deadpool 2, Glass and It Chapter 2. James has also been featured in the television shows Band of Brothers, Frank Herbert’s Children of Dune, Shameless and His Dark Materials. James is 5 feet and 7 inches tall.

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today was 3:33.  333 is an invitation from the universe to move forward

OH! Called out. I love it. Life is fun, if nothing else. Life is interesting and never ending (until it does - BUT WE DONT EVEN GRASP THAT). The avenues of this life, the possibilities. The possibilities are so endless they drown you theyre so heavy theyre so exhausting you just want to rest, just want to be selfish and slow down. can i get a week of time where time doesnt matter. can i trave the 7 seas, have 4 children, open a safe house, become a pro tennis player, become a jazz sax player, a master baker, a master entrepreneur, a desert burn out in a trailer But mostly can i accept myself, believe i’m alright. 

today i picked up lots of shit in the freezing cold. i stuffed recyclables and garbage into the bins outside. i made sourdough bread in honor of my forefathers and my growing belly. i need to be okay with myself. flesh isnt that gross, jill. let it die. just let it go. beautiful things come and then they go. like dust. romanticize your real life. you can feel such things in the very grasp of your hands - why not reach down to smell it? 

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look here i am at a familiar path, the clear, lighter path that has larger obstacles i flee from. chip at the mines for days. break though. breakthrough. get tired. nap. nap forever. anger becomes the new playing field. the comfort, the pillow i toss and turn on all night, pajamas tangled around my shrinking waist. or at least id like to say that. how about my scarred golden stomach, playing cat power on her laptop in the background, hallucinating and trying to sort out problems in wisps of dreams. it was so hard to run in those dreams, legs heavy, numb, breaking slowly. like a zombie. I feel like bill murry in zombieland. wait no it’s really a joke i’m not a zombie even though it’s pretty imaginable given this wreckage - AHAH - boom. headshot. zzzzzzzzzz

this path is good. this ball lightning is a rare occurrence. zues’ ult. his super. shatters the glass out of desert breaks like mom pounding brittle with the side of her palm. WHACK. CANDY FLIES. GIGGLES ROAR. Playfulness and tricks and messes and jolts of awkward energy are what make life, or at least mine. read the magazine at the base of the bed, please. it’s a trilogy i think we should read. there are so many books i want to consume. i want to live lives i might not get to live, see through the eyes of my brothers and sisters and different parts of myself. i want to open my heart once again and trust in my decisions, my gut. it’s okay to let go. it’s okay to forget. it’s okay to remember. it’s okay to be human. it’s not okay to self sabotage the way you do. manic depressive my asshole, that can’t be me. i would never turn my back on something that needed me. not a puppy. not a child. not a big decision or a surprise miracle of half my dna. my heart beats heavy in my chest, soggy with emotion and oppressions, drenched, lay out to drip and dry. It’s been a long time, too long. Hi, friend. It’s going to be okay. And even if it isn’t, it still will be. There’s always some way to do better. Just be true to yourself. Be one with your word. Be intentional. Be transparent. Be present. 

WTF DID I JUST VOMIT 

#exhausted #love

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Franz Kafka, The Diaries of Franz Kafka: 1910-1913

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Louise Glück, Poems 1962-2012

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it feels like we’ve just forgotten what it feels to be happy. what is happiness? it’s fleeting. it was a long time ago that you could let yourself be truly vulnerable. to let yourself allow yourself to believe that someone loves you. that they aren’t working a case against you. or that you aren’t able to mend things once they’ve been shattered- like his image of me. as soon as i lost it i lost my confidence in myself as a person. but even before then i’ve harbored an important part of myself, have been too afraid to release what i know is there. in lies letting go lies intimacy and your guards being down. they will see the really real you. the untethered. the fragile. the unforgiving. the persistent. the lush. the obsessive. the dominating and submissive, the passionate, the fiercely cold, the ability to harness moth and not be wrong or right, to be you. you aren’t bad. you will be okay with confidence once again. you’ll me okay with believing that someone truly loves you - it isn’t temporary, or spiteful, or jealous, or suffocating, or paranoid, or manipulative. it’s here. be happy. everything is temporary in the grand picture. isn’t it that we’re all just specks of star? or dust? maybe we emerge into the universe and get born again. maybe we just finally rest. maybe there is a higher power that marveled at all the different ways people tried to climb to them. i stand here with my hands bleeding, i dont know what else to do. every time i look at myself it’s analytical. every time im trying to give myself to him i notice a roll. wait scratch that, i notie a roll at all times. i am acutely aware of my flesh and very ignorant of my soul, of my desires, of my present. i dont FEEL. i breakthrough the barrier at times, namely when i’m too high, and i’m not proud of that. hell, at this point, it could even be causing it couldn't it? there always has to be SOMETHING because once i put my finger on it, it’ll all go away. i’ll figure it out, i have faith in myself. Bulllshit, brain. this is bad. you’er going to have to take more actions. it feels silly. and just breathe. write. try. allow yourself to be present and be you, because you aren’t so bad. really. how many people does it take to try and lift you up before you believe it? do you really think anyone is better than you --- or worse. your tired brain breathes fire, but feel it. let the burn singe through to a deeper layer. is that freeing? shedding skin? shedding assumptions and the past. be love it’s all there is at the end of the day. it’s all you can aim for that actually fixes this tangleweb of life. i just never allow myself to make mistakes. i let my mistakes define me after awhile. i let them sta with me, too. more internal torture the better. all that pain is some sort of fire that keeps me alive, keeps me warm inside amidst the whirlwind of fear. remember those few years when you realized you were fine, but this world was shit. take the good, forget the bad, but still love the bad at the end of the day. be better than that other person. i stopped trying. so  much past that doesnt matter anymore. how am i? HA. I meant who. So how am I works, too, here.. I am negligent, I am emotional, i am cynical, i am thoughtless while at other times very creative and deep into thought, moved by love

im getting tired and im still trying to figure out the communication of my scottish warrior boo thing of a puppy. 

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Starfield – Blackthorn - Susan Derges (b.1955)

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Alejandra Pizarnik, tr. by Yvette Siegert, “Extracting the Stone of Madness”, Extracting the Stone of Madness: Poems 1962 - 1972

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that mythical phenomenon the body’s best at: moving on

— Dylan Krieger, from Soft-Focus Slaughterhouse

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