Stuff and Things

You go to parties where you know you will only stay an hour. Lean quietly against the wall, watching people with enviably easy laughter. Your smile is a cracked boat in a flooded river. Close, but still useless. You do not talk to strangers, just sit there like a begging dog beside the dinner table, with eyes that say “Please, come, be my friend. I am a coward, but I’m hungry.

It is okay to want your own happiness. It’s okay to care about yourself the most. You are not obligated to sit there and smile and swallow every bit of shit everyone heaps on you. You are more than furniture, you’re more than window dressing, you’re not their shiny toy. You’re human, and you have the right to say “That was shitty of you”. You have a right to protest your own mistreatment and set boundaries for respectful interactions. The rest of the world doesn’t realize you have this right, and they will act offended and appalled when you exercise it, but it is yours.

College kids literally don’t care about walking in the way of cars at school because we’re like “hit me i don’t care pay my tuition.”

I never wish to be easily defined. I’d rather float over other people’s minds as something strictly fluid and non-perceivable; more like a transparent, paradoxically iridescent creature rather than an actual person.

She was desperate and she was choosey at the same time and, in a way, beautiful, but she didn’t have quite enough going for her to become what she imagined herself to be.