I’m twenty-two and have never so much as kissed a girl.

I should point out that at least half of this is totally me having really strict standard at this point. There was this girl who wanted to do something about a week before I moved to Berkeley. Somebody from the mountain tried to booty call me over the summer and, ignoring the fact that I wasn’t on the mountain for more than a week, we didn’t really get along and I’m not the type to show affection by being an asshole. To not make her feel like shit I had a lot of side conversations going on in there and she said that I’d totally have just got distracted halfway through and started talking about cartoons. Which is true. And if I wanted to be the worst dude ever drunk girl that I babysat and held hands with at Pride was stumbling towards my face for the first twenty minutes of that. It’s kind of embarrassing and shitty me how good the hand holding and backrubs and symbiotic dependency felt.

I use this as a point of reference for how bad I tend to be at life because it’s something that I could only bring myself to do with somebody where there was context and even if that’s basically nobody at this point I don’t think I’m in a good state where I could constantly be giving myself to somebody and taking from them and having it be a fair and kind exchange.

So, yeah. This is the truth and it’s kind of the most embarrassing thing I can think to explain totally. But I think you should really know that I’m not looking for anything or into anything and am way too neurotic to be so duplicitous.

Those are the videos I share when you’re close to me and I’ve made an absolute ass of myself and think you deserve my sharing of a tender part of me in addition to the impatient, bitter part that I already let loose.

They follow the rails that I would if my train of thought were coherent and they’re very personal to me.


A narrow Fellow in the Grass
Occasionally rides –-

do you mean Harris?
the caretaker?

You may have met Him –-

That’s Harris

did you not
His notice sudden is -–

have you been hiding in the yard again?

he is snakes

He is not snakes

he is definitely Snakes

you know it scares the maids when you hide in the yard

A Burdock – clawed my Gown


A Bird came down the Walk
A Rat Surrendered here

Emily none of this is true

Fame is a Bee

I can see you from the window

nothing’s clawing at you or surrendering
a soft Sea is washing around the house
I haven’t told the Garden yet

Emily why don’t you come inside

A Toad can die of Light, you know

I know
why don’t you come inside
I’ll get your white shawl

which white Shawl

whichever one you want

I want the one in the library

will you come inside then?

Toads can die of light you know

I believe you

Kills them right up

-Texts from Emily Dickinson (via mybuttskindacute)

Emily Dickinson was kinda crazy. That’s why she liked her domicile so much.