We are the generation of the selfie and of self-induced sadness, born in the same year that three of my idols would commit suicide. Most poets die with the lights on, but we all plan on drowning. We are the generation of grounding lightning into coffee beans, of pulling strings from the hems of our dresses until we unravel, of leaving footprints in the gravel on the way to the edge of the world. I am a computer girl, and I was born in the year of the boar. Maybe that’s why I’m a whore, and my best friends are all pigs, and I dig my own grave every time I open my mouth. We are the generation of meaningless trophies, it’s true. My parents like to tell me: “you think that you deserve everything.” But we are a generation of scraping, watching our parents cry over housing prices and dying white clothes black to blend in. We are children of the wind, born to land wherever freedom settles us and we take our parent’s debt with us everywhere. We are a generation of change and of chains, and mostly I think we deserve any fame we can get: thirty people hitting “like” on a status. Girls posting photos of themselves naked have earned every moment of bliss they receive from finding themselves beautiful in their own skin. We are a generation of women airbrushed to perfection and daughters taking pills to feel pretty again. And mostly, I don’t like to make sweeping generalizations about my friends but I think it’s okay if at the end of some days we feel like relaxing, taking a photo of our dinner, telling two hundred near-strangers how lucky we feel to be existing anywhere at all.
Have you ever felt a potential love for someone?
Like, you don’t actually love them and you know you don’t, but you know you could. You realise that you could easily fall in love with them. It’s almost like the bud of a flower, ready to blossom but it’s just not quite there yet. And you like them a lot, you really do. You think about them often, but you don’t love them. You could, though. You know you could.
My god the accuracy of this statement
boys in sweatpants with no underwear god grant me the serenity to accept the things i cannot change, the courage to change the things i can and the wisdom to know the difference amen
Please don’t be angry with people for not understanding something. Explain to them. Educate them. Inform them. Do not yell and call them names. Because they will still not comprehend. Except now, they are hurt. And you are the asshole.
order a fucking pizza with me and watch a fucking shitty film with me and play with my fucking hair and wear my fucking tees to bed and fall asleep in my fucking arms you fucking fuck
I need more hot guys in my life.