moontempleuniverse:

my boss is singing ‘easy like sunday morning' and i am hiding in the cooler so i can text you

shredding carrots is literally my favorite activity
look at you you seem so closed
creak yourself open for me
i hate shrill voices and young people
and i’m sorry but i think you’re so cute
i am soft i can
teach you how to be soft
put flowers on the grave of us
this high-stress work environment is bad for my heart condition

i want to know definitively whether or not you talk in your sleep and what your hair looks like wet and what you do when confronted by things you are irrationally afraid of

if i have to wipe off one more goddamn table i’m going to have a heart attack
i accidentally burnt the shit out of my arm today thinking of you

  via: http://moontempleuniverse.tumblr.com

It's 3:09 PM, I've just deactivated my facebook account. Not planned, or thought-out...just so. I know, it's a foolish and stupid thing to even take the time of noting down in words but so it goes. I'm not horrible, I've been worse. I'm just not...doing too good. I don't feel well, and quite frankly I'm too exhausted for the whole staying positive bullshit. Things like deactivating my lame facebook account and not owning a cell-phone by free-will...it's my way of modernly disconnecting from the artificial world I've held part of and the people in it. It's not that I'm trying to isolate myself or become un-social completely...it's more like...I'm just trying to find some air, some real goddamn fresh air to breath. I've been listening to Man Of A Thousand Faces by Regina Spektor on repeat this past week, and I just need...I just need to let my own self be. I'm at a distant public library away from home as I type this. It's one of my favorite places to visit and spend some quality free time at. Surrounding myself with books and records and strangers is one of the most tranquilizing methods I know. It's difficult sometimes...to accept that I'm twenty years old and in far reach of accomplishing my dreams. It's difficult to accept that my father's heart could fail again...it's difficult to accept that my mum has vertigo...it's difficult to accept that my uncle is dead, it's going to be a year since then...and I still cannot bring myself out of selfish denial. Loving is difficult, caring is difficult, trying is difficult, beliefs are difficult, feelings are difficult, I am difficult...and the thought of wanting to cry makes me want to cry because it's so exasperating and draining and overwhelming and humbling. I haven't written or posted much on here lately, but doing so right now...gives me this tiny and odd and inexplicable crumb of...hope? It's difficult to accept death as much as life sometimes...but nevertheless I accept it. I cope through it in the stupid little ways that I can...I become torn and furiously passionate all at once. I can only love as much as my heart can manage...and work hard and try hard and cry when I feel like goddamn crying because feelings are beautiful and meant to be exposed. 
 todo en él es lugar adecuado.

in·ef·fa·ble

/inˈefəbəl/Adjective

1.Too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words:
    "ineffable beauty"

2.Too sacred to be uttered.


Synonyms:

unspeakable - inexpressible - unutterable - nameless

“fifty thousand people, shrieking
tear me limb from limb from limb 

and ship my body parts to different continents
existing everywhere on earth simultaneously
fifty thousand people repeating the word ‘fuck’
 over and over in monotone
seven billion eighty-eight million ninety-three thousand people standing silently 
hundreds of sleepless nights trying to remember the names of every sea.” 

— "I stopped being in love with you so I don’t know 
what to write about anymore,” Kelsea Basye.

 

you've gotta be the one.