January 2012
19 posts
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you and i are living on the brink of an illusion.
my days are filled with enough deadlines and headlines and homophobes to make a better smarter nobler person quit
my life isn’t exciting
it’s erecting itself slabs of discard marble stacked on terracotta ruins so history will meet expense and wear its dissonance on the sleeve of tonal architecture
i could speak for days
for the days that are overcast for the nights that are...
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petrichor, after rain.
really beautiful things fall together the way i fall into your lap at a wild raunchy party wistful of the morning to come when i won’t be near you and you will be near here and the really beautiful thing is the sunrise rising despite the moon because of the stars for the sake of the planets the cosmos have to much to teach me
come down and teach me
crash the earth to bits with all the...
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la-la-la-whatever.
it’s snowing and you’re crying
muted by tufts of ice and water on the ground the cars feel somehow farther the air is definitely weight by the cold bloated with the grey and dark and winter
it’s snowing you’re crying I wish I could hold you I wish I knew how to put all the injustice from you inside of me away from you so your beautiful eyes won’t be...
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i'm slowly turning into you.
the snowdust over concrete parking lots like powdered sugar off a pancake after the first big bite it’s so cold outside I’m walking home alone a bit drunk a bit piqued a bit lonely
all of which goes without saying
I wish I could love you you’d be such a great fit such a nice pair of arms to rest my head my whole being my heart in
I’ve made it into the...
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we can never go back to before.
“everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt.”
do you ever get the feeling of impending doom? like the second you admit, out loud, you’re feeling exactly like a quote you read in sixth grade right after you finished staring at the back of a boy’s head wondering if that was the most attractive part of him
or was it the crook of his elbow? that he liked to bend and say, look...
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you are my sweetest down fall.
this life i’ve been given, my life, this life, is so gorgeous.
trannysaurus grew wings yesterday and we’re praying and hoping and making it take flight tomorrow. i’ve such a gorgeous group of people to work with, such brilliant minds. we were on a roll last night and it was captivating.
had my first poetry critique in that poetry workshop class i’m taking. it was...
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we never could do anything half.
auditions are today?!
luckily, i’m prepared.
headshot, check. resume, check. outfit suggesting the era, check. my bad self, check.
quick, everyone text me these words: ‘break a leg mia you are so pretty!’’
awh, thanks guys! (:
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i know it's right.
dude.
did another open mic night. last night. at baba budan’s, which is the epicenter of bro-standup routines and preplanned awkward hipster band-groups. it’s also the location of many hyphenated persons (singer-songwriter, comedian-bartender, bearded creature-gameboy musician ((ps-that last one isn’t a joke)). the venue was all wrong for what i was about to do, but in the...
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“let’s do this live.”
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such selfish prayers, i can't get enough.
maybe i’m maladjusted. maybe i was born sideways. i can’t imagine a world in which i am the most evil trollop in a room of trouts flopping about begging for a drop of water a speck of air
maybe i am incredibly evil and the rest of you are incredibly right and i only exist in what’s dark and granite and filthy i can never rise above the gloom to see the stars
you’ve been...
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“I just lived in Brooklyn, where everything was ordinary, and yet enticing and...”
– maurice sendak.
“Farmer Hoggett knew that little ideas that tickled and nagged and refused to go...”
– Babe - 1995 (via falloutof)
December 2011
31 posts
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such a lovely break.
i have accomplished a great number of things. well, no i didn’t. i mostly laid in bed and watched an ungodly amount of movies and arrested development. that being said, i had one of the best breaks of my life. thus far, obviously. and now, for a list of all the books i’m returning with (as dictated to me by ethan vera, who should be in bed, but can’t sleep, so is hanging out with...
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OHMYGODRYANPOLLY.
you don’t have an ask box or anything but in reply to your reply on young adult, because i really want to reply to it, i was disappointed too! i love thank you for smoking and up in the air. especially thank you for smoking. classic. young adult looked so promising. it was a sad evening for everyone involved.
also, i hope your life is awesome and we can talk movies anytime. your opinion is...
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saw young adult.
wish i hadn’t.
problems: it was like watching my divorced aunt on the big screen. it had nothing to offer the audience, good or bad. diablo cody thought she was extremely clever, all the time.
at least, upon rewatching juno the other night, i realized cody definitely deserved her moment in the sun with that script. the actors and director made that the success it was.
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i wish i had a million dollars.
and a drug habit, to take away the pain,
using the million dollars.
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y'all.
the more and more and more i consider the fact that i’m going to school for acting and the more and more and more and more i study actors i realize:
i’m going to school for acting.
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arrested development.
arrested development is a medical term for the stoppage of growth. this can be onset by trauma, disorder, injury, or a myriad of other causes.
I LOVE KAILA SCHEDEEN.
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“Whatever fate may thrust at me. I’ll never be the same. I’ve had less fear of...”
– dance me to my song, for heather rose, by frederick stahl.
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here's a few things i've recently reconciled in my...
one. somewhere, sometime, in this grand old world, very separate women at very separate times, met robert downey jr, ewan mcgregor, james mcavoy, and jimmy fallon. these women proceeded to systematically have these men fall in love with them. then they got married. married, i tell you. as in, so far off even the imaginary market you can’t even joke about being with them because they’re...
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sisterly advice
theonewhoswalking:
just got advice about tumblr from my sister. thanksss
RUDE.
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texting my father.
me: EATZI'S.
Dad: What is that?
me: Eatzi's? The food place? In Dallas?
Dad: Where is that?
me: Dad. You know what I'm talking about.
Dad: Who is this?
me: Mia! Your daughter!
---------------------------------------------------------------
[later, in person.]
Dad: My texts were so funny! Weren't they funny? Haha, gotcha!
me: ...
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when i say i know nothing about fashion, i’m lying.
i know plenty about fashion. i know that black and brown make a frown, unless you’ve pair them successfully in a pant/top, shoe/purse, or jacket/pant combo. i know short hair isn’t in right now. i know being petite and wearing pastels makes you look young. i know the empire waistline should never be worn by women with bigger...
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“The stages of a relationship can be defined by farting. Stage one is the...”
– Love and Other Disasters (via autumnuh)
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“A little child, a limber elf,
Singing, dancing to itself,
A fairy thing with...”
– christabel, samuel taylor coleridge.
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i am done with my graceless heart.
i am hungry for life
i am lustful for adventure
and i will eat, systematically, all the roadblocks before me.
if you think i possess some brilliance that i haven’t taped into yet, say it.
if you think i will never be enough, say that too.
speak to me.
freely.
openly.
honestly.
i do not have the patience for the world constructed around me.
it’s not that i’m better...
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would you have it any other way?
somedays, i’m sure i’ll die young and leave behind a history of catty remarks and callous requests for attention and permission and light
i’m convinced we can fit the sun in the vein of a spider’s left foot you know, the one closest to the ground
i’m sure i’ll die young
i’m sure i’ll die young
i’m sure i am young and have nothing new to say...
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and the arms of the oceans came washing over me.
boards, in less than a week. we perform monday. i’m in the second nine of monologues, and second to last for scenes. have i mentioned this before? oh well. we ran it in front of people yesterday and i had a minor regression. okay, major regression. but i’m getting it back. i know exactly what to do, and now just have to do it. taking control of my life. for sure. working everything out...
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Burn!
karenandellen:
July 16, 1988
Dear Albert,
Thanks for your letter. Time will tell if it works. I’ve sent a copy off to Karen.
If I had received the letter you wrote, I would have taken umbrage at the blatantly patronizing and condescending tone of the letter. I would have felt that you were being sycophantic and even obsequious!
However, since Karen cannot spell or comprehend the meaning of...
This is going to sound odd
craftybarnado:
but Boats and Birds by Gregory and the Hawk makes me think of my brother. And it makes me cry. Every love song I hear I immediately think of Dylan because there isn’t a person in this world who I love more. I miss him.
There’s no love like a big sister for a little brother.