The Wind Is As Cold As My Feet Tonight.

Fuck my life. Nothing compares to the feeling of devastation that hit me when I woke up this morning. I can’t believe it. I won’t. The next four years are going to be fucking awful. How did this happen? I actually don’t know what I’m going to do now. I almost cried earlier. I couldn’t shower. I could barely eat. I can hardly process this. I just can’t. I can’t do this. 

stuff about me

last song-  cute without the e by taking back sunday 

favorite color- I like purple and black 

last book- loki agent of Asgard comics. not really a book but it’s the last thing I read

last movie- probably smth science fiction related? Or marvel I don’t remember 

last tv show- Good Omens <3 <3 <3 I’m absolutely obsessed with this show now

sweet/spicy/savory- why not all three?

relationship status- I’m in one. It’s not going well and that’s not rlly either of our faults but it still sucks right now

last thing i googled- will and grace cast

current obsession- ^ Good omens/aziracrow. I love them. I need season three like yesterday

looking forward to- getting over this cold so I can go back outside, see my friends, and just do stuff ig

thanks fr tagging me @youreyesaremyfavoritecolor this was fun :D

when about Judas/love through a biblical lense. 

I didn’t mean for it to end this way. Sometimes  love is... betrayal. The coins. A priceless kiss. I’ll hang myself tonight after I see the blue in  your lips. He’s compelled by a higher power. Everything will be alright in the end. His master  has gotten out of scrapes a thousand times  before. His love cheats death. Did I tell you anything? Did I confess all my sins? I am so  dirty. Filthy. Unwashed. Unclean. Guilt washes  over me. Belief or distance. Ultimatums made of secrets and crucifix kisses. I mourned for you, but you did not take the time to notice me. My Christ has been stolen. I wish for a different life.  My mind. Broken and tired. It burns when he’s asleep. The rope will never break. Prophecy. 

‘If you’re the only one who knows the truth, only you can hurt yourself’

The city is endless and it is dark.  When there’s nowhere left for me to run,  the city holds me in its arms.  All I’ve ever asked of it was for a ‘’safe place’’ to fall apart. Drowning in the reservoir,  if I go too deep into my mind.  An optical illusion you can only see  if you’re on the inside (---in on the joke.) Ha ha ha. Laughing at me, a thousand smiling faces— a thousand more memories. There’s something hiding in the shadows,  in a corner.  In my closet,  behind a shelf.  This is why  I keep all the mirrors locked up. It can't hurt you if its not really there Scratch it out, scratch it out, scratch it— The record skips again, passing me over  for the eight thousand, six hundred, and forty ninth time. All I want is.. a second chance? A do over–again and again, Like an infinite loop inside my messed up head. ‘’Don't you think you'd be better off like the living dead?’’ Paranoia follows in my footsteps, A stalker in the night. He can never hope to catch up to me. I live in his house in the daylight. When the sun sets I sleep in the crowded streets. Begging for scraps of meat. Won't you grant me a sweet relief? I promise I’ll stay by your side,  day and night.  Like the hound that haunts you/Is this  what it feels like to know  Nobody wants you?

A fuck-you to RFK;

An autistic person will never write a poem, so everything I’ve ever written doesn’t exist. It’s just shit. 

They will never play baseball, so my memories of playing a game with my friends don’t mean anything. I never played a game I loved, a game I was damn good at. It was all a figment of my wild imagination. 

They’ll never hold a job, so there are thousands of doctors and scientists and engineers who aren’t real to him. 

Autism destroys families, so no matter what mine says, they’re lying. They don’t love me. Rather than death or illness, my mind is what will ruin it all. Even though we’ve been happy for 17 years so far. 

It’s an individual tragedy as well, which must mean that me and my bestfriends’ lives are meaningless. A waste of space. Of oxygen. 

Fucking hell.

If RFK (a man stuck in ‘55) gets his way, this police state that we’re living in will just get worse. He wants to use his research to make eugenics America’s policy. That’s what “curing” autism is. There is no cure. There’s only death. Death that should never even be a possibility. A thought. 

No one should be persecuted, or have their genes “eliminated” from the gene pool because of some uneducated twat. He doesn’t get to decide who will be born. He doesn’t get to manufacture the next generation like this is some kind of fascist, Nazi regime. Even in the most clinically “severe” cases, an autistic person is far from stupid or helpless. They are We are people, like everyone else. And it’s not our fault he doesn’t know that. 

Light a candle, don't say a prayer for me/Feel alone cause i’m gone

I’m sitting in first period– Algebra. (That’s) when I get the news. Junkie face down in an alleyway. I’ll never see her again. How could you do this to us?

She leaves and leaves. Time and time again. She then wants to come back. But this time there is no seat at the table. For we've all bandaged our hearts, Preemptively prepared for the bleeding. We gave all the time we had. And she took it. Took it and sold it for a cheap blow.

I'm sitting at home. Wondering about all my greatest fears when you tell me again. That fated phone call of the cops, to my uncle, To my grandparents, to my mom, who tells me. She's gone. (Again.) I've had to prepare for it a hundred times, Re-rehearsing my eulogy lines. I don't want her to die. But I know it's coming. The day you'll drop like a fly. And I don't want to be there when you make yourself die.

You've died a thousand deaths. All in my head I'm imagining the worst and sometimes I can't sleep at night. I toss and turn in my sweat stained bed. I don't want to wake up to the news that someone I love is gone. (It's twisted and impersonal- And it all feels wrong) I'm sitting in a pew. I've never liked church. But I'm praying for you. Just. Don't. Die. Please come back home. Don't spend the numbered days away from us. You don't deserve to die alone.

(Okay so, this is all fucked up. And I think I'm almost angry. Like I love her, and I don't wanna judge her, but this just feels like the end, and I'm not ready to lose someone else again. I just wanna see my cousin again. She doesn't deserve this shit. Nobody does. I'm just scared, and I don't know what to do. Maybe I'll start praying again.)

home - pencey prep

Demolition Man

I hate him.

(the chokehold this album has on me is crazy, man)

with tears in my eyes, I begged you to stay/you said, “hey man, I love you, but no fucking way” or (kiss your knuckles before you punch me in the face)

Sorry for professing my undying love for you. Can we go back to just being two dudes who flirt with each other in a really funny, totally one-hundred-percent platonic way? I’m sorry for telling you I thought you looked kissable tonight. When I first met you I fell hard. You’re the reason we got together and the reason we broke up. (Not really. That had more to do with being left on read for weeks.) When you don’t answer I get scared. I even started checking the obituaries by Day Four. I’ve never believed in anything as strongly as I believe you in you. This is love, and it’s bitter. It’s sour, and it’s awful, and it’s ugly, but I’ve felt it in my bones for two years now, so I know it won’t just go away. You’re the rhythm guitar in my heart. I asked you to join my band just so you’d always be there. Even if you can hardly play, you’re still my first choice. I want you with me for the rest of my life. I hope you don’t see this shit. I think I’d die. Well, this is the part where I admit I’m tired cause it’s two a.m. and I’m probably sick again. Goodnight. 

–S.S. (yours)