Each time I’m asked to tell about myself, I find myself starting the same way: “My name is Kelsey and I’m nineteen..”
but what I’d really like to say is:
“My name means island of the ships but once
I found a translation that said I’m a burning shipwreck-
not a burning ship but a ship that has caught fire
after the wreckage and well, I’d say that’s more fitting.”
I’ve learned that people don’t have time for about me’s.
They need two things: a name and an indication you’re someone special.
The doctors, they want facts not details.
“I broke my leg when I was three, it’s a funny story actually-“
The right or the left?
The teachers, they want interests, hobbies.
You’re sad, yes, but what do you like to do?
The adults are a spew of questions.
What school do you go to? What classes are you taking?
What do you plan on becoming? Got a boyfriend?
People my own age are the worst.
“I’m planning on an English degree with a concentration in creative writing.”
Yeah, aren’t we all. So how many times have you, you know,
I’m pulled apart, my interests travelling highway 2
my goals at a stop light at traffic hour,
my medical history on a billboard for the world to see.
But what about me?
Where’s the chance to say,
“I hang on to fistfuls of poetry like loose change in my pockets,
and I keep waiting for the day that the world turns upside down
so I can swim with the stars.
I’m not afraid of darkness, it’s a loneliness I can empathize with it.
It’s the blackholes like cigarette burns inside of me that get troublesome.
I walk through graveyards and read the dashes between years,
each a story I’ll never know. Sometimes I create my own.”
No wonder none of us know who we are anymore.
A man in Japan effectively used the solar eclipse to propose to his girlfriend.
well shit that blows everything i had out of the water
This is an old family picture.
My family does not support my being in the LGBTQIA community. They actually are opposed to it. They tell me every day that its disgusting and that it’s sinful and I’ll go to hell for liking women.
I moved out when I was seventeen, and in January I moved back in with them because I couldn’t handle everything that was going on. Every day one of my five siblings tells me to go back to Minnesota. My little brother Charlie (the black baby in the picture) is now 8 and he constantly physically attacks me and tells me that I’m not his sister and to leave. My other siblings make it very obvious and clear that they don’t want me here and my parents tell me constantly that they’re gonna kick me out soon.
I’ve been saving every penny for a bus ticket to Oregon to stay with my best friend and today I found this picture in my sisters’ room ON DISPLAY. Not hidden. On display. They cut my face out of the picture.
And that… That was just the last straw.
I don’t care if anyone reblogs this or whatever, I don’t wanna get popular, I just want people to know that this is not what a family looks like. This is not something people should have to go through.
This is no life.
The glasses John Lennon wore when he got shot, 31 years ago.
i will always reblog this i dont know there is just something so powerful about this image
This makes me feel so sad.
Piece of history on my blog.
Yoko took this image on their window sill in the apartment…so sad
I was looking at my friend’s cat pictures and she has a cat that’s more attractive than some human girls…
I WASN’T KIDDING
Not gonna lie I spend 86% of my time imagining different scenarios in my head