it’s three-thirty in the morning, that’s a bad time to talk about should-haves and would-haves - needful things
no socks
are allowed in the red-room
no pretty pink flowers
are allowed
at the woods at night
new york, new york 🖤
“he wished being alive always felt this good”
ohh she’s pretty with the sunset in her hair
this is what being alive is. a sticky menu between you and me in a cramped booth by a black window.
her beer tasted of sawdust and foam coated her boots; nuts were bland and counter sweaty. but the air was lime fresh and the night neon young and she was free.
myra.
“you’re never more alive than when you’re almost dead”
tim o’brien
destiny is usually just around the corner. like a thief, a hooker, or a lottery vendor: its three most common personifications. but what destiny does not do is home visits. you have to go for it. (at 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙫𝙞𝙗𝙚𝙨) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqDfqLnuSt0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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watch the sawdust n dirt,
swirl swirl swirl
down the drain
“we must not always talk in the market-place of what happens to us in the forest,”
xxii | she/her | psychology & creative writing | desperately searching for meaning in the mundane
33 posts