Friends, Fronds, PHrends

  It’s easier to encounter a comet than have real friends. I have been so emotionally exploited that I feel almost people used me as an emotional prostitute (emostitute) and it was mostly people of my own sex and even people of the other sex too. They hardly ever tell me what they are going

Duely noted

  that you incorporate readiness parasites virus plethora; pandominium on the maximum my first and last kiss? Please go check out from the cliche counter you got your hymens I got mine you got your swords I got mine please don’t go Noh on me and think that is the pinnacle of “cooldom” cool down

Nope You Didn’t

Yeah say that to a friend or ex who really is bitch!

You’re Just Not My Type.

Originally posted on Eleventh Stack:
There is an inspirational meme that goes around Facebook every so often that says, “Live every day like it’s your last.” It’s usually sparkly or has rainbows or a black and white beach scene or some equally pukey thing. That’s so adorable. In theory. In practice? It’s a damn depressing…

I lost my mind

  suddenly it started feeling weird; slump slump slump slump in chest rickety rickerty — oh ok I hate you I love you I hate to love you I love to hate you — WHAM BAM thank you fucking traffic jamm jammmmmm /cd.drive: D drive incodex missiing alt +cltrl+deel system restart install OP Mac Jac

ink argosy 4

Sometimes, the act of friendship is difficult and really so exposed and there that it is hard to understand. I have lost friendships before but usually it was the other person’s problems with me that initiated the so called breakdown. Either it’s talking too much or not talking at all, to not talking the right

tactiless

the feeling is both friction and smoothness softly yet roughly; feels dry yet not too much the poilshness is a plus; the wood on my hands and feet feels much like air ironically; with it’s different layers I like holding pens in a certain way my synapse and muscle memory prefers a 35° or 40°

Dead nail

You cried today as I hugged you friend; clinging to me, it meant to be, performance best but I made you stress out, I’m stressed out rubbed like eraser by diamond and coal I am like sparked ember, of depression I hurt you sorry — I had a lethargy of dullness upon my heart; I’m

In this room

where I had learned to retire for the days and nights as stars range and roar in their clustered orbitals oh no, learning is not non independent nor codependent true tutelage has grasped with inclinations as mathematical bearings; and crisscross the opulent displays of dark and light this room has been more sacred as a

“Can I Use the Bathroom?” and Other Public School Memories

Originally posted on Dysfunctional Literacy:
ADVICE TO STUDENTS: When you ask for permission to use the restroom, don’t carry a book with you. My daughter told me this week that she asked her teacher, “Can I go to the bathroom?”  Her teacher said, “I don’t know.  Can you?”  Some things never change.  40 years ago,…