i don’t think i can handle liquor anymore, i’ve been puking all morning from mini jack mini jager and mini smirnoff last night. My fiance, Erin, can definitely handle her alcohol she drank a pint of rum and a 40 and had a shit ton of sex. she’s so hawt and cool. We’re best friends and shit.
i’m going to a show on tuesday so i needa catch up on all my homework and shit
day 10 josh hasn’t called. But I got my flirt on with a law student. Fucking pretentious nothing like joshie boo.
my heart is fucking empty. he’s treated me so bad but i continuously get back together with him. I think i just want love.
to love and to be loved.
wowowowowowowhhhh i haven’t even thought of listening to bright eyes to cure the pain. shitdamn.
“She felt her pounding heart. Her hands seemed to enclose it. She thought for the first time in her life that it was nothing that was hers, that belonged to her, but just a pounding, living thing inside this body that wasn’t hears either.”—
Will Bedwell Bring it on Marxist Clash lover! Bring it! 47 minutes ago
Madeline Carter it’s fucking nicaraguan and my dad was a sandinista dumbfuck. he saw a lot of his friends get shot by you contra fucks. i’m very passionate about this subject. basically fuck you and ronald reagan. 5 minutes ago ·
me stickin ma tounge outttttt. a really nice girl took this.
"I was so thirsty from running around all day, I felt like my mouth was going to jump right out at that vermouth like a Mexican drawing I saw once in a museum where a guy was represented with his mouth sticking out on the end of a long tube like it couldn’t wait for the rest of his face."
“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night”—allen ginsberg.
MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: ’Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness,- That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth, Tasting of Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth! O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs, Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.
Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster’d around by all her starry Fays; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild; White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine; Fast fading violets cover’d up in leaves; And mid-May’s eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call’d him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain - To thy high requiem become a sod.
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath Charm’d magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell To toil me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well As she is fam’d to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now ’tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: - Do I wake or sleep?
It keeps eternal whisperings around Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell Gluts twice ten thousand Caverns, till the spell Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound. Often ‘tis in such gentle temper found, That scarcely will the very smallest shell Be moved for days from where it sometime fell. When last the winds of Heaven were unbound. Oh, ye! who have your eyeballs vexed and tired, Feast them upon the wideness of the Sea; Oh ye! whose ears are dinned with uproar rude, Or fed too much with cloying melody—- Sit ye near some old Cavern’s Mouth and brood, Until ye start, as if the sea nymphs quired!
[14:24] maryeliseee: i was talking to gage all morning [14:24] maryeliseee: and like [14:24] madcar98: te he hahhaataat [14:24] madcar98: what did he say!?! [14:24] maryeliseee: he told me the reason all of him and his jobless friends in la area always fucked up and have the lastest threads is because [14:24] maryeliseee: they whore themselves on craigslist [14:24] maryeliseee: NO JOKE [14:24] madcar98: haha, how much do they get? [14:25] maryeliseee: says i could probably get up 3000 a month [14:25] maryeliseee: he wouldnt get into specifics about himself…
call me a teachers pet, but bringing up conversation with professors make them love you which makes you love them which makes you love your classes and your grades
i was talking to my English professor this morning, she recommended me to take her fiction writing class. i’m doin it, i love writing. I’m about to go find out the dealeo on books, i probably won’t be able to find anything used anymore. my daddie got robbed and my mommie’s broke, so i’m gonna have to find a job nowww. i’m kinda excited though. more moneyyyy
but now i have 10 to 445 filled with classes on mondays and 9 to 445 filled with classes on wednesdays. no classes on tuesdays or thursdays though and only 10 to 1 on fridays.
haha i’m text argueing with ben now because i encourage his hott girlfriend to do DXM last night. She had a bottle of dayquil and a cough, i mean come on. chug that shit.