what it’s like in my mind.
failing so hard just now: let’s all dance.
(Martin Solveig & Dragonette - Hello)
+ I am well shy
+ afraid of the dark
+ loves animals
+ things with words
+ minor obsession with my hair
take me on cute dates?
I have been called intense.
my best friends have told me that I am intense. they’ve joked that I am intense. they’ve taken it back (and not really meant it when they’ve taken it back). they’ve smiled, ironically.
I want to be the girl that dudes fall in love with.
I’m not that girl. I’m the girl who breaks her soul.
I feel hard. I want to heal all the people. I need to heal all the people. because they are wonderful and beautiful and because they deserve it so fucking much. and because there must be a purpose to all this pain and because life is desperate and euphoric and because I feel so fucking hard.
I’m an idea (and—sure—an idea that some dudes have thought themselves in love with). I’m a dream of something, a notion of thought (how quaint). I am freedom and potential and a fascination with its fractures. I am strings of meaning, plates of meaning, wells of your idea. I am the weaving of a carousel and the facing of its creatures and the colouring of its eagles and the fading lines that halo its turnips and the way the ink sits in, and just above, its surfaces. I am a twisting of animals that do not spin with the machine, but tumble and cavort and dance in strange winds with a joy that comes—first, perhaps—of terror.
this is—vaguely—what it’s like in my mind (though hardly a precise translation).
in summary: I love, utterly.
okay, wow, so I’ve been meaning to say that jkjkjkjkjkjkjkjkjkjk (there’s 10 of them) has incredible hair.
and this probably isn’t the greatest picture of it, but I don’t actually know him and felt a little weird lurking his blog too thoroughly. he also makes other things that are nice to look at. he is the next in my series of hipster tumblr hair crushes. indulge.
my hemming brings all the boys to the yard and they’re like … smartly-tailored, or whatever.