—Drunk J Crew
My friend Brandon posted the Drunk J. Crew tumblog on my facebook and said, “All i hear is your voice when I read these. I don’t mean that to be an insult, but it is what it is”. So this obviously had to happen.
don’t stare at the moon too long or else you’ll remember that nothing in this stupid fucking world makes sense
Oh, fuck. If I know I like men and women, how do I decide who to settle down with in the end?
I know this question is just an expression of your immaturity, but it annoys the shit out of me when people frame bisexuality as a false dilemma between genders. It’s not.
Go fall in love. Go get your heart broken, and then go do it again. Find out what it takes to be in a long-term relationship regardless of either of your genders. Learn about yourself. Figure out the kind of person you want to be and the kind of life you want to live.
Go do all that shit, and when you’ve finally grown up a bit, when you’ve wrapped your head around the wonderfully messy and messed-up complexity of interpersonal relationships, when you’ve come to terms with how little control you actually have over your romantic destiny in the first place, maybe then you’ll realize how ridiculous it is to reduce major life decisions about potential life partners to something as ultimately inconsequential as “penis vs vagina.”
Well, if none of you jerkstores are going to write a critically acclaimed Broadway musical about a coming of age love story featuring Electric Light Orchestra songs, I guess I’ll have to. Geez.
Bright Eyes | Lua
Last night, we crawled into bed with this playing, heavy and tired from the longest weeks.
Later tonight, we’ll fly south to see a few of our parents and listen to Jeff Goldblum play piano.
Next week, you’ll start somewhere new that will make you happy again.
The cold has started to settle in, and all I want to do is wrap you in sweaters and scarves, and feed you hot chocolate.
We’ve finally made it to the calm we need. We’ll continue to do this, and it will be everything we thought it would be.
My wonderful mother in-law revisited the wedding day in this very sentimental newspaper article. If you’re into that sort of thing, take a look. If not, here’s a video of a kitten riding a turtle.
Relevant title is relevant.
I wrote a thing for a fiction workshop class. It’s under the cut.
An Open Letter to a Fading Star
Hi again. I’m sending one last letter; for now anyway. By the time you get this we will be both long dead though. But that won’t change the way I feel about you now or ever.
We will be spread thin among the dimensions. I will become insignificant points like the dust that litters the vast time between us. And you will become a nebula; filled with bright gases ignited by gravity and scorched forgotten fragments. You will filter an infinite number of dotted skies separated by incomprehensible distances but they will all share that one thing in common.
Right now I love a tiny beacon shining far above the horizon. Every night, I could pick you out; each and every time. Among the millions of lights I can recognize your shine. One of my earliest memories I can recall of us was when I remarked how orange the sky was so late at night. It was the first time I wished you were with me. So you could witness the combinations of ambers and violets that shielded us from each other.
The sky has moved a million times over since then. The orange canopy has brought rain, snow, and wind but it became another silent backdrop to my life. We have moved a millionth of a fraction across our galaxy. Yet you still hang far out of reach. The only time I ever feel the distance between us is when you disappear. When your shine is so dim that you can’t fight against the lights surrounding you. When you can’t pierce through the orange dome that covers me.
I wish I was strong enough to push the dome away- to feed your fire- to compress the distance between us with clenched fists. I want to fight and move the stars. I want to do anything and everything to make you bigger and brighter. To feel your radiance. If my will-power was strength: I would rearrange an infinite number of skies. I would become your fuel. I would become the color of your flames and the warmth in your core. I am immortal, powerful, and heart-broken. Death wouldn’t be able to scale me.
But… my will-power is limited to my flesh. It is as hot as any star but it will fade silently with my last escaping breath.
Everything dies. From microbes to the wisest most beautiful cosmic giants, nothing is harbored. Some die with a sigh. Some die with consuming rage. Some are consumed. Some rend space around them. Some tear each other apart. Some collapse. And some just vanish. Death is a monumental force and precise enough to rearrange electrons. My will-power is immense, but it is not as honed or as tempered as the single truth known throughout the universe. The hardest thing for me to comprehend has been our death. But I am slowly accepting it now.
I wish I was enough to make you strong. But if I became your colors, how could you show me your true radiance? If I became your warmth, what is left of me to love? I see now that if I had my way, you would have nothing left to shine for. You have to shine for yourself first before you can shine for me. And by then, you may have moved on light-years away from me. I may move on light-years away from you too.
You have yet to figure out how you can help yourself but you have a goal. And right now that means fading away. That means surrendering us to the truth of the universe. If it was meant to be, it would. And if it will be, it has been decided.
Space is a funny thing. Everything is happening all at once- the past and the present. Like a raft in a stormy ocean, the passengers won’t witness the rain falling until the ripples hit their boat. Whatever misses the tiny ship becomes layers in the deepest frontier we can never hope to explore. The ripples move at the speed of light and they are what form the ocean we are floating in. We are stranded in tiny piling moments that make up the universe.
My point is, is that you are long gone by now, but I am still getting your fading light. In the future I will see your newer, truer form; but right now I only see the last vestiges of light fading in the thick orange dome. You are already reconvening; Pulling your parts back together to form something new and wonderful. And you will light yourself once more, but instead of a single pin point in the sky, you will bloom across the heavens. You will become something I have never seen before. You will rival all the colors on Earth. You will rival the silent dome.
But I may be long dead by the time your light returns to me. I may be long dead by the time you replace the silent orange sky with your beauty. I will be consumed, reused, and evolved. I will become something new too. And even if I am, I will still love you; No matter if you are a dying star or a star being reborn- no matter what shape or form you take, my love will radiate with the ripples that form the astral ocean.
We will be both long dead, but my love will not be forgotten by the loneliest edges of the universe. If it was meant to be, it is; and if it will be, it has already been decided.
I will evolve. I will grow. I will hone this power inside of me. I will become a star for myself, and I will die for myself. And when I die: I will leave something as immense and beautiful as you. I refuse to die any other way. My will-power has written at least one truth of the universe. I can surrender myself to the rest.
By the time you get this we will both be meeting in an infinite number of horizons.