By 止市行

"Everything in my head went quiet. 

All the ticks, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared. 

When you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you don’t really get quiet moments. 

Even in bed, I’m thinking:  Did I lock the doors? Yes.  Did I wash my hands? Yes.  Did I lock the doors? Yes.  Did I wash my hands? Yes.  But when I saw her, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips..  Or the eyelash on her cheek-  the eyelash on her cheek-  the eyelash on her cheek.  I knew I had to talk to her.  I asked her out six times in thirty seconds.  She said yes after the third one, but none of them felt right, so I had to keep going.  On our first date, I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating it, or talking to her..  But she loved it.  She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye sixteen times or twenty-four times at different times of the day.  She loved that it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks on our sidewalk.  When we moved in together, she said she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us because I definitely lock the door eighteen times.  I’d always watch her mouth when she talked-  when she talked-  when she talked-  when she talked;  when she said she loved me, her mouth would curl up at the edges.  At night, she’d lay in bed and watch me turn all the lights off.. And on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off.  She’d close her eyes and imagine that the days and nights were passing in front of her.  But then.. She said I was taking up too much of her time.  That I couldn’t kiss her goodbye so much because I was making her late for work..  When she said she loved me, her mouth was a straight line..  When I stopped in front of a crack in the sidewalk, she just kept walking..  And last week she started sleeping at her mother’s place.  She told me that she shouldn’t have let me get so attached to her; that this whole thing was a mistake, but..  How can it be a mistake that I don’t have to wash my hands after I touch her?  Love is not a mistake, and it’s killing me that she can run away from this and I just can’t.  I can’t go out and find someone new because I always think of her.  Usually, when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin.  I see myself crushed by an endless succession of cars..  And she was the first beautiful thing I ever got stuck on.  I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way she holds her steering wheel..  How she turns shower knobs like she opening a safe.  How she blows out candles-  blows out candles-  blows out candles-  blows out candles-  blows out-….  Now, I just think about who else is kissing her.  I can’t breathe because he only kisses her once-he doesn’t care if it’s perfect!  I want her back so bad..  I leave the door unlocked.  I leave the lights on. ”

Saoirse Ronan as Jo March - Little Women (2019), dir. Greta Gerwig

I saw an old rice cooker being used as a flower pot. I thought it was cute ^^

practicing for my webcomic~

Art by Boris Groh

my name is BABY and you lean out of your car and spit at my feet it lands in a puddle in front of me and i am thirteen and in a suburban neighborhood on the way home from school and i gag and run with my backpack banging like the echo of your words against my back like you are chasing me all the way home my name is SWEETIE and i am fifteen in the city with my friends for the first time and we get a little lost and you follow us for a full block you name my friends HONEY and DARLING and WHY THE FUCK WON’T YOU TALK TO ME my name is NICE ASS and it’s two in the afternoon and i still feel my heart slam against my ribs because i am under a hundred and fifty pounds and i have weak lungs and weaker fists and while you saunter down the steps, swinging the beer bottle in your fist, my father who is walking behind me shouts, “she’s seventeen, you dipshit” and maybe i’m near my family but i don’t feel safe until we’re home again my name is JAILBAIT and my friend is laughing and we just graduated high school and we feel like we are on the brink of something beautiful and terrifying and she is in heels and about to throw up and you name her DRUNK ENOUGH and i have to physically drag you off and when we go home she cries for four hours because a night that should have been just teenage fun almost resulted in the end of her trust of humans my name is LOOK AT THOSE TITS and we are on a college campus and the boy i am with holds onto my waist just a little tighter while you drive up next to me. you name him THUG and throw a bottle at his forehead. i can’t stop shaking until long after it’s over. he says “it happens,” and i say, “it shouldn’t.” my name is DAMN GIRL and we are walking down the street. there are ten of you and two of us and you snap a picture when you think we’re not looking. you tell us to either come inside or you’ll fuck us on the street. you all laugh like this is funny. this is compliment. this is just something boys do to get ladies. my name is LITTLE LADY, my name is FINE MISS, my name is FUCK YOU AND FUCK YOUR FRIENDS, my name is LOOK ME IN THE FACE, my name is STOP FROWNING, my name is SMILE, my name is WHY DID YOU EVEN GLANCE AT HIM YOU WERE ASKING FOR IT, my name is THIS IS A COMPLIMENT so i looked it up according to Oxford that’s “a polite expression of praise or admiration” i think you’ve got the definitions mixed up my name is PRETTY THING, my name takes nice words and make them into bullet wounds my name is NICE BODY and no girl i know has dated a man who catcalled her, my name is GREAT RACK and it turns out that if you shout things at a stranger, they sound like knives more than flowers, my name is WOMEN LIKE YOU NEVER KNOW THEIR PLACE and every single “nice” thing you say to a woman is something you’d never utter to another man because you know that it’s derogatory, my name is PRINCESS and A REASON TO GET PUT IN PRISON and if another man spoke to your mother sister girlfriend like that, you’d kill him my name is SEXY and every time i hear someone raising their voice i am thirteen again and i don’t know who you are and i’m running home with a weight on my shoulders and your words like a slap to my spine and your laughter like a hanging, i am scared and alone and suddenly so small, and compliments are supposed to make me feel good not afraid for my life, compliments are a way of saying “i care and i appreciate you and i thought you should know it,” and if you really meant it as a compliment, you’d care about how i would take it - but you don’t mean it like that, you mean it to show off, you mean it to make us object, you mean it to shove our names into your back pocket so you can tell your friends “i saw the HOTTEST LITTLE THING yesterday” and they can groan about how we just walked away because you don’t see us go home with keys in our fists and all the lights on and we keep 911 dialed just in case and we triple-check our locks and we don’t fall asleep at all because your compliment knocked us over and took who we are if we are all saying “it doesn’t sound like a compliment, it sounds like a threat,” if you really wanted to make us feel good - wouldn’t you stop doing it?

COMPLIMENT =/= CATCALL // r.i.d (via inkskinned)

“My body, my choice” only makes sense when someone else’s life isn’t at stake.

Ak-Chin Pavilion, Phoenix, AZ 2014 August 8 Photo Credit: Zack Massey View more here

Coffee is here for ya.