Moni
Once upon a time I wrote a short story, and someone said I should write a blog. So. Yeah.
: We're All Onions!
Does anyone else love the movie Mean Girls?
This is Tumblr, Carrie. Of course everyone reading this loves, or at least, has seen Mean Girls.
Well, you know that scene where the camera wheels it’s way around the lunch hall and reveals all the different cliques of kids in the school? Groups of…
(Source: hutchers-gonna-hutch)
(Source: theresnothingtoremember)
Just found this lost poem in my archives (AKA my hard drive)
Boundless as the depths of heaven
Melancholy strips sense and pursuit
Every creature spurned by seven
Degraded by spurn, thievery and loot
When all at once the shadows darken
And enemies are at every turn
Ceaseless vengeance
Ever fighting
Ever hiding
No relief
We sit on that craggy shore
Above the brim, above the trees
We wonder in agony what the hell we’re doing.
What the hell we’re saying
Help us! We cry
HELP US, please!
We can’t resist anger. We want relief. Relief. Relief.
Odes on loneliness, melancholia
It’s all the same
No one to help
No one to heal.
Drifting, falling, gouging, cutting, scraping.
Heal us. Heal us. Heal me
Help.
The Final Battle
Killian Donnelly as the Army Officer
David Thaxton as Enjolras
Gavin James as Combeferre
Mark Dugdale as CourfeyracPSA: Required listening for everyone. Perfect cast.
(via montreuil-sur-mer)
(via lauren-east)
kenopsia
n. the eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that’s usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet—a school hallway in the evening, an unlit office on a weekend, vacant fairgrounds—an emotional afterimage that makes it seem not just empty but hyper-empty, with a total population in the negative, who are so conspicuously absent they glow like neon signs.
(Source: catpissneverclean, via griddle-biscuits)
What You Do
You don’t know what you do
When you hug me for longer than
Those customary five seconds.
You don’t know what you do
When you laugh so hard
At all my bad jokes.
You don’t know what you do
When you sit close to me, and
Don’t shrink away from the contact.
You don’t know what you do
When you flash that smile my way,
Inducing those tummy butterflies.
You don’t know what you do
When you mention a date,
Or a crush, or a significant other.
You don’t know what you do
When you pat my arm and
Call me your best friend.
You don’t know what you do
When finally you find someone
And I become the ignored.
I don’t know what to do
When I have to move on from
Something so promising.
the web
Absently on a short string
Does the spider hang and sing
Of a girl she once entrapped
And a boy she once held rapt.
Of the girl, she turned to stone.
Of the boy, was cut through bone.
The spider felt no regret
For those deeds, happen they let.
When disaster to her fell,
Out emerged the hideous shell
Of a girl and of a boy;
One a meal and one a toy.
