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Queen of randomness. Sailor of rowboat ships. Connoisseur of nipples. Pansexual. Aromantic. This blog contains whatever the hell I want it to contain. You have been warned.

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Try explaining a life bundled with episodes of this -

swallowing mud, swallowing glass, the smell of blood

on the first four knuckles.


❝Personally, I’m a mess of conflicting impulses—I’m independent and greedy and I also want to belong and share and be a part of the whole. I doubt that I’m the only one who feels this way. It’s the core of monster making, actually. Wanna make a monster? Take the parts of yourself that make you uncomfortable—your weaknesses, bad thoughts, vanities, and hungers—and pretend they’re across the room. It’s too ugly to be human. It’s too ugly to be you. Children are afraid of the dark because they have nothing real to work with. Adults are afraid of themselves.❞
(Richard Siken  (via scaredywolf)

(Source: illusional-freedom)

)


You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together to make a creature that will do what I say or love me back.  - Richard Siken

(Source: acestiles)


The light is no mystery,
the mystery is that there is something to keep the light
from passing through.

The light is no mystery,

the mystery is that there is something to keep the light

from passing through.


Welcome to my Lydia x Pete Feels, courtesy of Richard Siken.  IT’S ALWAYS COURTESY OF RICHARD SIKEN.

He was not dead yet, not exactly —

Parts of him were dead already, certainly other parts were still only waiting

For something to happen, something grand, but it isn’t

always about me,

he keeps saying, though he’s talking about the only heart he knows—

He could build a city.  Has a certain capacity.  There’s a niche in his chest

where a heart would fit perfectly

and he thinks if he could just maneuver one into place —

Well then, game over.


There should be just one safe place in the world,
I mean this world.
People get hurt here.  People fall down and stay down and I don’t like the way the song goes.

There should be just one safe place in the world,

I mean this world.

People get hurt here.  People fall down and stay down and I don’t like the way the song goes.


Sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell
And how I ruined everything by saying it out loud.
Especially that, but I should have known.
You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them
back together
to make a creature that will do what I say
or love me back.
I’m not really sure why I do it, but in this version, you are
not feeding yourself to a bad man…
Richard Siken - Litany In Which Certain Things are Crossed Out

Sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell

And how I ruined everything by saying it out loud.

Especially that, but I should have known.

You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them

back together

to make a creature that will do what I say

or love me back.

I’m not really sure why I do it, but in this version, you are

not feeding yourself to a bad man…

Richard Siken - Litany In Which Certain Things are Crossed Out


misshollandroden:


Let me tell you a story about war:
A boy spills a glass of milk and his father picks him up by the back of the shirt and throws him  against the wall. You killed my wife and you can’t even keep a glass on the table. The wife had died of sadness,  by her own hand. The father walks out of the room and the room is almost empty.
The road outside the house lies flat on the ground. The ground surrenders.

— Richard Siken - War of the Foxes (II) [x]

misshollandroden:

Let me tell you a story about war:

A boy spills a glass of milk and his father picks him up by the back of the shirt and throws him
against the wall. You killed my wife and you can’t even keep a glass on the table. The wife had died of sadness,
by her own hand. The father walks out of the room and the room is almost empty.

The road outside the house lies flat on the ground. The ground surrenders.

— Richard Siken - War of the Foxes (II) [x]