• esuety


january 2nd.

i met you in the beginning of the year after my trip to new york, when the winter was cold and my limbs were chilled and i wrapped in a large jacket with a fur hood to keep warm in bed.
i met you in a room where everyone's eyes were the same color but yours.

i met you through a haze of alcoholism and drug addiction and my own manic devices. i met you and you met me and it was january second.
city love

is anybody out there?

No one ever posts here, which I've complained about before, but I still love this community (well, the idea of it), so I am going to start posting pictures often, in hopes that others will too. And if not, I'll still post for the fun of it.

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taking advantage of an 80-degree December day, when I am used to spending my winters in New Hampshire

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  • twinsex


Goodbye summer you where good while you lasted.
The days we wasted on sun and surf and the nights we never slept and had drink to keep us company.
All those streets we walked down and all those songs we screamed at the top of our lungs.
nobody could touch us because we had the world at our feet, and we dared you to try and take that away.
midnight walks. drunken promises. cactus club. truth or dare. playing musical beds. create!. food shopping gone crazy. wanting more then this. not needing a thing. you. me. us. everything. summer.

i miss it already but im glad that i got to have it
  • Current Music
Catch a falling star

Emotionally Exhausted. NEW GIRL!!!

My love, why are you crying? I can’t stand the diamonds that fall from your eyes. No doubt, they are beautiful, gleaming with the poetry of depression. Each facet glittering with a story of its own, reflecting a bitter truth or disappointment.

And, the rainbows dance on the walls.

It happened, I swear it did.

If only for a moment, our souls met. The conversation was silent, it was only felt with the heart. Nonethless, I know it occured, because I watched it fall apart.

You, you rake, you self-proclaimed martyr. Don’t you do this to me. I hate you for it. Curious, sometimes I can barely differentiate between hate and love.

The air smothers me, tickling my throat like peacock plumes. My suffocation is beautiful, as is the loneliness- so obvious, I can hear it. This symphony of my masquerade- paper mache smiles and sequins.

Strange, the day we bothered to throw away the masks and shake the sequines from our eyes, it all fell apart. Was the reality to much to handle, are we weak? Was it so terrible to realize that others suffer just as much as ourselves? Our hope, already moon pale, faded even more. I am dizzy with anger. You make me lost, blind, powerless- groping in the dark. Our sadness growing, feeding off one another.

It will not win. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I refuse to let it drown us.

Promise me, my lovely, me darling, we will survive. We can help one another, I know we can. My anger makes me only more resolved and fortifies me resilience. I am comfortable knowing I will always have the power to quit, but, for now, I choose to live.

Au revoir,

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    Straylight Run
city love

I love this time of year.

I love the smell of fall and the feeling of the brisk air on my cheeks when I step out in the morning. I love that it's time for sweaters and scarves and coats with fake fur lining.

This leaf was alone in orange just a couple weeks ago. Now the whole tree has changed.
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