i was just showing my mom how to paste something into her text message on her phone and i was like “double tap in the the text box” “the text box” “the text box” and she was just pointing to random places on her screen that weren’t the text box and all i could think of was
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came she back was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.
ive been singing the ‘I will kill you in your sleep so you’d better try to try to keep awake’ into the airvents for the past five minutes and my mom is going crazy because she cant find the source of the creepy music
update: she has called the neighbor over to help her
okay so im recording my voice singing it and putting it in the air vent os it can just keep playing
THE WORST THING IN THE WORLD IS WHEN SOMEONE OFFERS U CHIPS AND U REACH IN THE BAG BUT U CAN’T GET A HOLD OF A CHIP AND U START SWEATIN’ AND PEOPLE ARE STARING CUZ U CAN’T GET HOLD OF A GODDAMN CHIP AND THEN CHILDREN ARE SCREAMING AND U HEAR GUNSHOTS AND BUILDINGS START COLLAPSING BUT U STILL. CAN’T. GET. A. CHIP.
“We are the generation of nostalgia. We grew up in the age of transition. From hand-written letters to electronic mails. From film to digital. We were fascinated by new things, neglecting the way we spend our afternoons. Cupcakes and tea. Play-Doh and Polly Pockets. Young and naive. Technology completely changed the way we waited and we grew up too fast. The simple things in life seems more meaningful now. We grew up in the age of transition and have become the generation of nostalgia.”