Natalie Díaz, from "American Arithmetic", Postcolonial Love Poem

Human beings b like. *sits and stares peacefully at a fire* *sits and stares peacefully at the ocean* *sits and stares peacefully at a sleeping animal*

a small rhythmic motion: is happening

us for 6 million years and counting: talented brilliant showstopping incredible

today is not my birthday

reblog if your birthday is not today

Officially in my quiet era i don't have much to say about anything anymore it is what it is and life goes on

all food is "guilt free" to me because i love foods and treats and snacks and drinks forever and ever amen

I hate loneliness but I love to be alone

"youre a sick fucking creep" 🤝 "say that again baby, its getting me off"

you have to get yourself out of bad places. you need to resist the temptation to let everything slip and become apathetic & cynical toward yourself and your life. you need to accept that it takes time to change and it’s ok to fall over as long as u get back up. every morning is a new start and things don’t have to be this way forever. you can heal and you can change.

i want to be a sweet and friendly girl but there’s all this anxiety. and the horrors

and rage

yeah and also the rage

pls drink a lot of wine and be extraordinarily well read and buy too much perfume and write a few too many love letters and spread affection and poetry wherever you go

it’s not stalking im your guardian angel

reblog if freud would have diagnosed you with female hysteria in the 1800s

ur twenties are for seeing how many mistakes u can make in the shortest amount of time possible and getting a cool haircut

hmm. maybe u were put on this earth to make art and write bad poetry and create silly little playlists and being kind and maybe tearing up a little bit when you see old people eating alone

anyways time is fake and nothing is real i’m just living my life from one halloween to the next

"can u multitask" yes actually i am losing my mind and chilling at the same time

The relationship between a girl and the random shit on her bedside table

the utter romantic notion that the stars have a hand in our fate.

Forget about fancy dates, i wanna flirt with you in kitchen while cooking for you

I want to be someone's library crush