Petrichor
<3 - Courtney
Really I do. Just sometimes, but I do. I swear life is so much easier that way.
staying up past 3am talking about the past and falling in love all over again,
and i still don’t think i’ll ever understand.
too much jayme dee, freddie mercury, and liz phair for just one night. will someone please tell me what exactly the universe is trying to get across? because all i’m getting is static.
The kinds of compliments you get when you date a smart person who hates math as much as you do.
Life is so awesome right now <3
She completes me.
Meaning, the late-night hours of wild creativity and emotion and lack of logic. This is when I do 90% of my songwriting. This is when I figure out what’s important in my life. This is when I spray pretty scents all over my room, put on a homey nightie, light candles, burst with tiny epiphanies, and write pages for Great Expectations (if you don’t get it, don’t bother.) This is usually when I update Petrichor.
It’s Thinking Time right now, and my latest tiny epiphany is that some of the best and most memorable times of my whole life were during Thinking Time.
(Disclaimer: Don’t take me too seriously past 11 PM.)
Read moreI’d rather lay in bed and let
your pretty colors wash away
the pain and sensitivity
beneath this soft seductive haze.
For you and I can live inside
this transient amnesia.
my Darling, I don’t need your name
Just be my anesthesia.
One-thirty-five in the morning, vanilla candles, and a good book.
Eargasm.
“Way up high in the rolie polie sky is the little round planet of a really nice guy.”
Hands down best kids’-TV-series theme song. Ever.
Oh these were the days <3
The baby seal who broke into a house…asl;ijfawsoijf;oiejfo;aij can i just keep him please <3 <3 <3
Answer:
Welcome :) hope things get better!
Answer:
Whoever and wherever you are, yes I do understand, but you’re less alone than you think. I think we all know the feeling of being very alone and very small and very inconsequential in a big and scary and loveless world, where in the end everyone must face the greatest challenges alone and there is no person, no place, no time that can ever really be counted on to stand by you for ever. Naturally this is up for debate what with beliefs in God (I myself stand only partially sure) and other personal philosophies, but the feeling is really the same across the board no matter what.
First, I’m sending you to thequietplaceproject.com/thethoughtsroom. It’s one of my favorite places to go for times like these.
Second, I’m telling you that it gets better. It sounds cliche, I know, but that’s because it’s true. Sure, we all have to stand on our own sometimes, but by no means does that mean we’re alone. Everyone else has to fight the same war—if not today, than yesterday, or tomorrow—and so there’s always a shoulder waiting for you somewhere, that needs you just as much as you need it. Maybe there’s no such thing as one solid rock to hold onto but that’s the beauty of this funny place called life. Being on your own isn’t always easy, but it’s an unappreciated opportunity to fall in love with life. Find activities, places, and people who make you happy. Rediscover old loves and build new ones. Read a book you’ve never had the chance to pick up. Get in shape. Get a haircut (works like magic, though I’ve never understood why.)
And finally, go listen to some Sarah Kay poems on YouTube, because Sarah Kay is awesome and incredible and makes the world infinitely cooler. Here’s one:
“And she’ll learn that this life will hit you, hard. In the face. Wait for you to get back up just so it can kick you in the stomach. But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air. There is hurt here that cannot be fixed by Band-aids or poetry, so the first time she realizes Wonder Woman isn’t coming, I’ll make sure she knows she doesn’t have to wear the cape all by herself.”
Oppressively. I try to catch
my angry tears and fears in hand,
and find myself ashamed to cry
with you here kneeling from the sky
in front of me.
I’m cynical. I didn’t come
to hear you try to understand.
Just leave me to my broken heart
and let me tear the grass apart
and watch it fall.
Ridiculous. Ridiculous
that maybe it’s the biting wind
that cools the heartbeat in my ears—
unclenches me, and helps me smear
away the burn.
So quietly, so prettily
the ivy cave encircles me;
the screaming, fighting, biting cries
that echo red behind my eyes
bleed into mist
reluctantly.
And me and all my stupid pride
ignore the cars that rumble by
and let you lay around my head
around this frigid little bed—
to flicker past my frozen nose
to whisper tiny harmonies,
forget for me my silly woes
and places that I need to go
and catch away into the breeze
the words I spill into the leaves.
