His rough hands and deep voice and commands and under the blankets because we mustn’t but oh god we wanted each other and there isn’t anything quite like that.
The desire you cannot fulfil.
Just the thought makes my entire body shiver.
Again, again, again.
I was using a public washroom when suddenly piles of Latino men and women started coming in and changing their clothes and loitering around. They had all just finished their shifts at the connected restaurant. The stall walls were very low and I could see everyone over the tops. Two men had jumped over the walls and were standing in my stall. I had my period and there was blood on my hands but I couldn’t really do anything about it. They looked disgusted and made some comment about “you shouldn’t be doing that here”.
When I left the bathroom I noticed that the sign on the door was a chalkboard and though it had previously said “women” someone had changed it an it now said “men”.
I was at the grocery store buying sparkling mint water. It was because I was going to a party and wanted something to drink, but not alcohol because I was a sex worker and I wanted to have my wits about me.
"I set a lavender alarm so the girls can wake me up so I can get dressed"
mysublimeexistence asked: i lost a follower when i reblogged your cute ass selfies
HEY EVERYONE THIS IS MY LITTLE SISTER!!
my life became 600% better when i started acting like a self obsessed piece of shit like 10/10 would recommend
even if u don’t actually genuinely love yourself its fuckin fun to act like you think you’re the human embodiment of perfection go on try it life’s too short to not fall in love with yourself
Lets be real for one moment.
Alcohol is a poison. When you drink, what you’re doing is poisoning yourself.
Self-poisoning for the sake of enjoyment is a fine art I do believe.
I also think they’ve been telling it to us wrong all along.
Don’t drink on a full stomach.
Or do, whatever. Its your body.
In my own experience I have found that when I drank on a full stomach, I would go to bed with a full stomach, and wake up with a full stomach, an empty wallet, and still drunk.
Sure, the food definitely slowed down the absorption of the alcohol into my bloodstream. I didn’t even feel my first beer. The second barely registered. By the third I was tipsy and carried on like that all night long. Something about a stomach full of beer isn’t very conducive to digestion so whatever deep-friend morsels I’d consumed before I started sipping end up just sitting in a hoppy carbonated ocean and stewing all night long. Ew.
So upon waking the next morning… afternoon, whatever… I’ve got these soggy onion rings still laying in the bottom of my finally-empty stomach, but unfortunately they’re saturated with beer and in order to finally get them on their way to digestion means staying uncomfortably inebriated for a few hours longer. Of course I’m excruciatingly hungover, or stale-drunk as I like to call it, and I want it all to be over. I’m making resolves with myself to be kinder to my body and take up meditation and move away from the riotous partying.
BUT OF COURSE SELECTIVE MEMORY KICKS IN AND I FIND MYSELF DOING IT ALL OVER AGAIN THE NEXT WEEKEND.
And thus is when I discover the magic which is drinking on an empty stomach.
(of course it is only really great when you’re using alcohol as a tool for dance move enhancement, careless tomfoolery, and to gain an incredibly bold and hilarious personality. For the enjoyment of the beverage, I’m afraid you SOL and I recommend moderation and caution).
See if you have one drink on an empty stomach it hits you within a couple minutes and escalates rapidly from there. With nothing to slow it down, you feel what you drink and thus drink less. For me, two drinks on an empty stomach makes me a really enjoyable and giggly 6/10. And then I can sip another two drinks throughout the night to maintain this pink haze, have a giant glass of water and a B complex vitamin before I go to bed, and wake up feeling dandy.
The process from consumption to expulsion feels so much quicker if there’s nothing to slow down the alcohol and in my experience it is more enjoyable and less painful the next day.
It is important to note however that I am not the type to participate in drinking games or drinking ‘sessions’ and I have never/would never want to be blackout drunk. I’m a pretty controlled drinker and I definitely use it as I would any drug, to change my perceptions and liberate some social inhibitions I have.
Days of lightness and elation are predictably followed by days of crushing weight.
Sadness is such a curious physical sensation. I wish I could draw it. In the middle of my back there is a hole. Its like everything filters through me and out that hole, including my breath which it sucks away like a vacuum. I’m soft and porous and malleable and sounds can change my surface. I don’t see the energy of objects and places. Everything just looks still and deadened.
It’s difficult to explain. I know when its coming though, and I know it never lasts long. Its just a waiting period for me now. I know I don’t have to try and escape it.
It is confusing to want to share confessions, but feel that it is morally wrong to do so.
So then I think to share them in a space of anonymity, but suddenly find they no longer hold weight when told.
The context of who I am and how you and I relate to each other, whether it is as close friends or acquaintances or only strangers together in this cyber world, is all that means anything.
Each persons response to my truth will be different because of how they know me. Some would find it disgusting, some would find it exciting, some would find it enviable.
Years ago I had a compulsion to tell everything to everyone without worry or filter. My excitement for my experiences was overwhelming and uncontainable.
The more time passes and the more I experience the less that urge arises and the easier it is to suppress when it does.
It is usually not appropriate, not important, or not interesting to anyone but myself.
Age is slowly bringing me reservation.