boyattempt

-The Winter Of Our Discontent, John Steinbeck

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“Used to be one of the rotten ones and I liked you for that

Now you’re all gone, got your makeup on, and you’re not coming back”

-Anthems for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl, Broken Social Scene

oooo i love this!!! okey…

crochet snoopy for my calculus teacher!

i love handmade gifts.

i got a break-up call a few days ago and, ironically, i was working on my (now ex-) girlfriend’s christmas gift while it happened. i asked if she still wanted the gift and i could tell by her response that she, undeniably, did not want it. it is a handmade, miniature hobbit-hole book nook, but i didn’t tell her that. i just said “i spent a lot of time on it.”

i was sad; the gift was so catered to her that it felt impossible to repurpose. i mean, sure, i do like lord of the rings now — thanks to her — and i was already pretty deep into the process of making it. i also happen to have an ever-growing eclectic bookshelf but, i couldn’t possibly keep it for myself.

could i?

i spent a good while ruminating on this and wondering if the whole object was tainted. however, i still put love into it, didn’t i? it may have been directed towards her when i started; hell, maybe it still is now but, MY love is beyond her or anyone. my love is goo and sap that sticks to everything i touch so, when i finish this little craft, the whole world will be richer.

also, it’s gonna end up so cute, and i deserve a little bit of fantasy kept for myself after cashing all my whimsy chips in for her.

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“I’ve been hating everything

Everything that could have been

Could have been my anything

Now everything’s embarrassing”

-Everything Is Embarrassing, Sky Ferreira

this is the same man that tells me to never get married. never have kids, never rely on anyone. i wonder if, maybe, all of this comes from a fundamentally selfish view of love.

not to say he is a selfish man, because he is not. however, do we not love everything with the knowledge that it will end one way or another? is avoiding grief self-preservation or self-deprivation? maybe both?

i have had to learn, more than once, that welcoming in love requires already accepting the end. there is no certainty that someone will wake up tomorrow still wanting my love. this doesn’t stop me from giving and giving and giving.

because, after all, what is the point of living if i keep all this love to myself? i do think there is an inherent selfishness to loving someone; i dish it out with the hope of taking some back. although, if my plate is empty, i really wouldn’t mind at all.

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“But you had to go I know, I know, I know Like a wave that crashed and melted on the shore Not even the burnouts are out here anymore And you had to go I know, I know, I know” -I Know The End, Phoebe Bridgers