I crept up behind you with a homeless chihuahua

Generally speaking you’re free until you’re about four years old. And then five arrives, then you go to grammar school and then you start becoming demanded and solved and orientated and shoved into areas. You lose what individualism you have. If you have enough of course, you retain some of it, but most don’t have enough so they become watchers of game shows, you know, and things like that. Then you work the eight hour job with almost a feeling of goodness, like you’re doing something, and you get married like marriage is a victory, and you have children like having children is a victory. But most things people do are a total grind - marriage, birth, children - it’s something they HAVE to do because they have nothing else to do. There is no glory in it, no esteem, no fire; their lives are flat and the earth is full of them. Sorry, but that’s the way I see it… I could not accept the snail’s pace eight-to-five, Johnnie Carson, merry christmas, happy new year. To me it’s the sickest of all sick things.

Because once you hear something, you can never return to the time before you heard it.

All my life, my heart has sought a thing I cannot name.

This post is me acknowelging that some people go onto tumblr to escape the real world and to soothe themselves after stressful experiences, so if they block or ignore social justice and news stories so that their decompression isn’t interrupted with yet more stress, it is not only no one’s business but it makes perfect sense.

Summer? My memory flutters — had I — was there a summer?

Green was the silence, wet was the light, the month of June trembled like a butterfly.