if you want to understand the psyche of our generation take a good look at the stories we tell ourselves about the future
because it isn’t flying cars or robot dogs, it’s faceless government surveillance and worldwide pandemics and militarized police brutality and the last dregs of humanity struggling to survive
our generation isn’t self-centered, or lazy, or whatever else they wanna say about us. we are young, and we are here, and we are deeply, deeply afraid.
You looked inside of me and you saw hatred. That’s not victory.
"Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall."
i can’t wait until october when there’s no sun outside and everything is cute colors and it’s cold and there are terrible horror movies on tv, my power is at its peak then
My mother tells me
that when I meet someone I like,
I have to ask them three questions:
1. what are you afraid of?
2. do you like dogs?
3. what do you do when it rains?
of those three, she says the first one is the most important.
“They gotta be scared of something, baby. Everybody is. If they aren’t afraid of anything, then they don’t believe in anything, either.”
I met you on a Sunday, right
one look and my heart fell into
my stomach like a trap door.
on our second date,
I asked you what you were afraid of.
“spiders, mostly. being alone. little children, like, the ones who just learned how to push a kid over on the playground. oh and space. holy shit, space.”
I asked you if you liked dogs.
“I have three.”
I asked you what you do when it rains.
“sleep, mostly. sometimes I sit at the window and watch the rain droplets race. I make a shelter out of plastic in my backyard for all the stray animals; leave them food and a place to sleep.”
he smiled like he knew.
like his mom told him the same
“how about you?”
I’m scared of everything.
of the hole in the o-zone layer,
of the lady next door who never
smiles at her dog,
and especially of all the secrets
the government must be breaking
it’s back trying to keep from us.
I love dogs so much, you have no idea.
I sleep when it rains.
I want to tell everyone I love them.
I want to find every stray animal and bring them home.
I want to wake up in your hair
and make you shitty coffee
and kiss your neck
and draw silly stick figures of us.
I never want to ask anyone else
"You were red. You liked me cause I was blue. You touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky and you decided purple just wasn’t for you."
consider this , how the fukc is it september
well, summer has gone and passed, the innocent can never last,
"You attract the right things when you have a sense of who you are."
"I like my hair messy. My love wild. And my sex aggressive. But I’m still a sensitive woman, just with passion."