i slept for a lot of today so now i’m not tired and it’s 2am and i wanted to get up early and shower and get breakfast and do work at the library and i’m just a dick mostly
oedipus-tyrannus asked: Once you get this, you have to say five nice things you like about yourself publicly, then send it to ten of your favourite followers!
1. my face yo
2. my short-lived bursts of productivity
3. my patience, mostly for loved ones
4. my writing style
5. my thigh muscles
i don’t have a lot of regrets but i left the three remaining slices of my belly timber pizza on adam’s bedroom floor and that was stupid. i may have to make real food soon. outlandish concept, really.
i overdosed on constellations
and forgot that flowers need water,
love, and time.
starlight was, is, beautiful.
but i lost sunlight on my skin.
i want grilled scallops and salt crusted on my skin from the sea blue skies and pink moons my face is starting to crack open with light but the skin is pink and flaky was our reminiscence only that or did it haze your pain i can’t explain i spend my time inhaling new belief and can’t quite believe i’m real
I think the most painful realisation comes when you find that you cannot speak your mother tongue as well as you do the language of the land where you grew up. My English is evidence of this. When something as simple as a colour, or the name of an animal in your mother tongue leaves you dumb. Yesterday I could not find the world for ‘turtle’ in Somali, only after my mother reminded me, did I recall knowing it.
We betray our mother tongues, for the languages of nations who will never fully accept us. We let the strangeness infest our mouths until we forget how to accommodate our original tongues.
Mummy's off her face after one cocktail. It's 4:14 pm and we are strolling through wanchai