Nostalgic Insight to Newfound Bliss

joshwaaaloveyou asked: why did hitler hate the jews so much?

why..

i dont know if im happy, or if im sad.

im just sort of confused.

and it kind of aches..and that scares me.

Anonymous asked: Hey, if you promise to play neopets with me I'll give you my url.

ahem.

http://yahtzeezombies.tumblr.com/

yeah.psychic. 

Anonymous asked: nudes or gtfo

Anonymous asked: Sorry Fidell, I accidentally sent my message to someone else. Don't worry though, I played it cool.

keep it confidential. no more fuck ups.

Anonymous asked: Um, about that last message, I might of gotten the wrong number. I'm not kony. And I'm most definitely not in South Dakota. I don't even know what Invisible Children is.

hollaaaa.

i guess there’s no need to report anything.

Anonymous asked: Hey, it's Kony. You know me, just doin stuff. So call me back. See ya Fidell!

*forwarding to FBI

Anonymous asked: hey bby.

hmu bbycakes.

Anonymous asked: Love me.

i love you, your beautiful gray face…

those big, brown eyes..and the curtain of eyelashes..
(ohnicko.) 

Anonymous asked: Hey, you're freaking awesome. I'll just watch you while you sleep. Don't lock your doors. Gooby pls...

gooby prs.

I’m the season of change. I touch the leaves and paint them crimson and gold. I make them dance across floor. I chill the air to raise bumps on your skin. I bring you back to school, a different person than the months before. 

So why does my name have such a negative connotation? I bring color and new beginnings. I liven the night with my breath. I should be held above all other seasons. Instead, hearts sink. When you trip, you say it’s my fault.

I brings leaves to the ground. Suddenly, I am blamed for the rain and snow. I hear, “There’s heavy rain, Fall,” or, “Look at the snow, Fall.”

I am not Cupid. Yet, I am charged for the tears and sorrows of infatuation? Unrequited love is often accompanied by sobbing and curses to my name. “Why did I Fall for him?” 

I’m the season of change. Light reflects the colors I smear across the trees. I am the reason to hold someone’s hand on a brisk walk. I change people’s hearts. I am why you have to get back up. I cry and paint the world white. I harvest love, and I am why your heart was caught.

Box

I held your favorite memories. I kept your baby blanket safe from mockery. I saved pictures of nights you never wanted to forget. There were letters you never sent and letters you’ll never lose. You penned poetry, prose, promises on pieces of paper. I held entries of your life to give you a sense of certainty and reassurance that it was all real. I treasured each item you placed in me, for it brought me closer to you. Those pieces of you became what made me.

As you grew older, you decided to erase parts of you life. You threw away the baby blanket. After all, you were too old to have it in the first place. You burned pictures. Those memories hurt too much to remember. You stopped writing letters. You stopped writing. 

Your reality begins fully grown, in the real world, wiped clean of mistakes. When you dream of the vessel that held all your vulnerability, it’s just that: a dream. There’s no longer any need for certainty and reassurance for things that never happened. I was abandoned, hidden in a corner somewhere, like the childhood, the memories, the parts of you you didn’t want. I am empty.

A Word Is…

A word is a part of me, lingering in my depths. The longer it sits there, the more it eats away at me. Words are made up of the darkness inside of me that forms verses to spill meaning. Each recipe does not satisfy it. Each formula shortcomes the last, and it just keeps growing and growing and growing. One day, the words will consume me. Nothing will be left but endless attempts to relinquish the part of me that struggled to be free.

4/9/12 9:40 AM