Read the Printed Word!

We Are Unusual And Tragic And Alive

Adrian/Annie. 19. IN(F/T)J. FSU. Vegetarian. Gay and hella queer and nonbinary/demigirl/agender/femmegender/maybe genderfluid/basically perpetually lost when it comes to gender. She or They pronouns are both fine. I have a rat named Cleopatra who has a rat friend named Olive. Elephants are my favorite beings on this planet; giraffes are a very close second. I really like art and jazz music and Billie Holiday and Arcade Fire and piano and soy milk and peaches and chocolate milk shakes (edit: I'm not allowed to have them bc I'm lactose intolerant) and all animals and trees and plants and the moon. I really don't like the color orange and things that are cliche and people who yell*
[*disclaimer: I cry a lot because I have the emotional capacity of a toddler okay go]

I think I want to get to the point where people know me as Adrian but those who are really close to me or have known me for a long time can call me Annie. Only people who make it sound good coming out of their mouths because that name has so much bad attached to it in my head


I must be nicer to myself like I deal with enough negativity from other people and the world in general and I’ve been so irritated with myself for not being surprised about The Thing and being so jaded but like… it’s okay little Annie you’ve gone through a lot but you’re really strong and you’ve grown so much and learned so much about yourself and other people just drink water and remember to eat and look at trees and plants and love endlessly and be good you are okay


And, my god, I was so brave,
to keep going without you.
To dig through the layers of you
and find myself glowing,
no longer the moth, but the light, itself.
I was so brave to get left by you
and not fall to pieces.
to get left by you and not fall at all.

Caitlyn Siehl, excerpt from Left (via forever-without-you)

(Source: noiseandfuss, via liveimmensely)

lovely words me rn

on our wedding day,
when I tell you “I do,”

it’s because I do.

it’s because you understand
how ten-thousand dollar apologies
still keep fathers worthless,

it’s because my ribcage expands
every time I think of you,

it’s for all the things
you see in me

and pretend
not to notice.

—Rachel McKibbens, excerpt from your airplanes (via theoryoflostthings)

(via liveimmensely)

lovely words