They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.
-fsf
My heart has been dizzy and ears fuzzy and eyes fuzzy guess it is theretreat of that last irrational bout of hope. Hard to hold nice things in your heart for warmth without burning your fingers.
On another point there is nothing loving about being okay with people being hungry bc they got unlucky in birth order. Caring for every last person makes sense and is what our god preached and calling people sinners without caring to resolve anything is unloving and to me it is wrong.loving is what is called for
I even had a proper day nice even got some good news and my feet and my teeth and my body works and I’m safe but I’m restless in a heaven better just be sleeping and whispering. I don’t even fancy sleeping that much I’m just craving it. That and touch. I’m a little miserable today I want to run away but I’m too lonely for that. I miss this whole shoebox of people and I sin so much I’m rotten. I want to be much better. I don’t think people should giggle somuch if it’s going nowhere
how oh so badly does this feel like resigning. and it doesn’t have to. trying out, bold baby doll brand. new. for once.
Perhaps an entirely obvious question but how do you go from acknowledging faults to changing them?
longing they call it because desire is full of endless distances
A list of things that I crave, deeply:
-an earnest, honest blanket fort permanently affixed in my bedroom
-someone charming and silly to sit in it with me without doing anything else except giggling and waxing poetic and talking about loving things like God
-a pair of saucer-eyes to gaze at
-an endless endless supply of box matches and tealights
-clarity, continunity, community
-the promise of life being grand and more peripheral and less self-absorbed than it is now
- confirmation that I will either have a chubby lovely happy soul baby someday and love someday and a roof and a window and a gentleman there who always knows where to find the pens and extra light-bulbs and spare keys or that I will be at peace without it.
Trying but forgetting names and not stitching lessons to reality and people are whispering and this is high school the cryptic posts and the nightmares realized well parts but dreams instead
so. not school? fancy. moving away and writing a book of terrible poems. yes. the whole year just unhinged itself and it is fresh and possibility full.
that was not my love-affair
Behold, these many years we have suffered in the wilderness, which time we might have enjoyed our possession and the land of our inheritance,and we might have been happy.
But behold, the Lord God poured in his Spirit into my soul.
But as oft as they repented and south forgiveness, with real intent they were forgiven.
Hug me till you drug me kiss me till I’m in a coma. ( yeah so dystopia unromance still think it is fantastic sounding )
