musings of a wandering quaintrelle

I just want to wake up on sundays, read the newspaper, go out, eat a bunch of dim sum, and read at the pool all day. Is that too much to ask?

I don’t remember when I wrote this, but I found it in my files today.

A Week Too Late

A week too late

You come to me, ready

Open

For the first time in years

The air smells the same as it did

The first time you laid hands on me

Held me down

Though no one could hold me down

You are a ghost

Carrying complex connotations

Around you,

I suffocate on memories

You awoke me

To everything that was wrong

My psychotic psyche

Unleashed

Shattered to pieces

A catapult

For putting myself back together

Now I’m complete

Completely my own

Belonging to no one

But my dreams

Yet, you irk me

And I wonder what if?

And then the universe

Gave me something good

And then you

Walked right back in

It’s all a joke

A test

A melodrama

I reckon, choice is for the weak

The strong know which way to go

But again I crumbled

Under indecision

Because I found you

And you

And you

And what about him too?

Knight of Cups, REV. Deceptive charm in the service of intense insecurity and rapidly shifting moods. Selfishness, indolence, and a complete lack of maturity. Misguided idealism divorced from practicality. Destructive romantic passions.

Knight of Cups, REV. Deceptive charm in the service of intense insecurity and rapidly shifting moods. Selfishness, indolence, and a complete lack of maturity. Misguided idealism divorced from practicality. Destructive romantic passions.

“If I had not created my whole world, I would certainly have died in other people’s.”

—   Anaïs Nin (via misswallflower)
#bossbitch

the night you found yourself on a business trip drinking chardonnay solo in the executive lounge, writing your short film on a napkin, followed by a call with you mother where you had an emotional relationship breakthrough and then got an email that you booked a short you auditioned for months ago

“How ya goin’ to win when ya ain’t right within?”

—   Lauryn Hill

“Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.”

—   Albert Einstein

“We are born with whirlwinds, forest fires, and comets inside us. We are born able to sing to birds and read the clouds and see our destiny in grains of sand. But then we get the magic educated right out of our souls. We get it churched out, spanked out, washed out, and combed out. We get put on the straight and narrow path and told to be responsible.”

—   Robert R. McCammon