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#booze – @anenlighteningellipsis on Tumblr
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Beauty in the apertures of pain

@anenlighteningellipsis / anenlighteningellipsis.tumblr.com

I want to say Without temper If possible without the least sense of the heroic Without even the measured ambition to speak the truth which is only another vulgarity To say I am not what I was Indeed I was nothing and now I am at least the possibility of something and this I will defend.
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Anonymous asked:

Describe your perfect weekend.

Books + time to read them. lunesta (i.e. time to sleeeeeep). solitude. the warm fuzzy stripey tummy of my cat. tumblr. espresso. no obligations. languid preparation of souffles. sketchbooks. pencils. captain + cider. carefully selected company. snowfall + candles lit. JB as Holmes, marathon. perhaps a hike through the woods, pen in hand. museums maybe. window shopping at confectioneries. fuck, taste-testing at confectioneries. lingering gazes at somehow kindred strangers in second-hand bookshops. perhaps a theatrical outing. (actually, this is starting to sound like my perfect every/anyday)…

Or fly me to Aspen, CO for skiing/sexing/hot-cocoaing. That’s good too, Anon.

xx

#yeah...#that would definitely work#sometimes i get messages#lovely anons#personal#solitude#books#booze#perfection#life on the edge#anon#inboxery
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An update that will most likely go unread.

Been working all hours at a menial, mind numbing job, for the extra cash a student always needs. Yes, for bills, loans, tuition, etc. ... but also booze, cigarettes, espresso, pills, theatre tickets, art supplies and the like, of course.

Then coming home exhausted to indulge and revel in drawing, in books, in pasta, cheese, wine, music, friends, my cat, tumblr, netflix... and the blessed relief of writing, only I can't even do that properly anymore because I've caught an insufferable case of writer's block (-_____-)... which seems to correlate with my recent short-temperedness and long periods where my grasp on logic and indifference slips, the walls are lowered subconsciously, as if by enemies that mean to disarm me, my mind is foggy and all rationality is gone.

This is not me. This is not the self I have made, honed and cultivated through pain and out of fire. This is the self that surfaces when I have no cerebral or physical energy left, when I am drained to the core... a ghost of my former self is typing this right now. I see this woman as if from a cobweb in the ceiling corner; I can't help but see the ridiculousness, not to mention the utter loneliness, of my existence... and have a hearty laugh; at how tiny it is to the rest of the world, the rest of humanity, the universe...

Oh good lord I'm transforming into some kind of hideous, emotion-driven, nicotine craving, hormone rollercoaster/complete basket case of a homo.

So, what's going on in the lives of my usually passive, unresponsive followers?

#writing under the influence of lunesta and wine#always a good idea#hello hello??#is there anybody out there?#cigarettes#books#booze#writing#personal#ish
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