kaylahraquel:

Me and my boo are like this.
kaylahraquel:

Me and my boo are like this.
kaylahraquel:

Me and my boo are like this.
kaylahraquel:

Me and my boo are like this.
kaylahraquel:

Me and my boo are like this.
kaylahraquel:

Me and my boo are like this.
kaylahraquel:

Me and my boo are like this.
kaylahraquel:

Me and my boo are like this.

kaylahraquel:

Me and my boo are like this.

(via keykeygottheboom)

Fashion Week Coverage from Flaunt.com!  Fashion Week Coverage from Flaunt.com!  Fashion Week Coverage from Flaunt.com!  Fashion Week Coverage from Flaunt.com!  Fashion Week Coverage from Flaunt.com!  Fashion Week Coverage from Flaunt.com!  Fashion Week Coverage from Flaunt.com!  Fashion Week Coverage from Flaunt.com! 

Fashion Week Coverage from Flaunt.com

I was raised on british techno, japanese horror movies, and caffeine. Who I am is not a mystery in that context. 

Hello. Hi.

I disappeared. I now work at Flaunt Magazine and need to rest my writing digits between 11 pm and 7 am. Har har get it? I work too much. 

To see what I’m up to check out www.Flaunt.com

Last week I took a very quick trip to New York and as soon as I landed I wanted to go back ‘home.’ The selfishness and anger that hangs like a cloud over the city that I once saw as a novelty—a toughness I should aspire to—seemed unnecessary. I’m typically afraid of flying, and despite a three hour delay and a take off during a thunderstorm, I felt so happy to be on that plane pointed west.  Last week I took a very quick trip to New York and as soon as I landed I wanted to go back ‘home.’ The selfishness and anger that hangs like a cloud over the city that I once saw as a novelty—a toughness I should aspire to—seemed unnecessary. I’m typically afraid of flying, and despite a three hour delay and a take off during a thunderstorm, I felt so happy to be on that plane pointed west. 

Last week I took a very quick trip to New York and as soon as I landed I wanted to go back ‘home.’ The selfishness and anger that hangs like a cloud over the city that I once saw as a novelty—a toughness I should aspire to—seemed unnecessary. I’m typically afraid of flying, and despite a three hour delay and a take off during a thunderstorm, I felt so happy to be on that plane pointed west. 

Someone I’m very close to died Tuesday, and I don’t think I’ve fully absorbed it. It seems to come in waves. I will be fine and thinking clearly and working and accepting the fate of the universe, and then suddenly I feel that a void is steadily drawing me into the earth and I have no choice but to surrender to the emptiness—unmoving—for as long as my soul allows.


I am tired, and each day I wonder how I will handle this new information.  Each hour that answer is different. I wonder how long these new sensations will last—though, I am hesitant to broach that subject—as I am not sure if they have even begun

Last night I had a dream I was going into space, or maybe I had to make the decision of whether or not I would. The idea of the distance seemed too daunting or the void of space seemed to vast or the lack of gravity seemed too uncontrollable and what I mainly remember is feeling like change was imminent. Like leaving the earth would somehow separate me forever from a tribe I never really felt part of in the first place.

Like that time in third grade that I stayed home from school because I was sick and when I came back our teacher kept saying the punchline to a joke from the day I was gone and maybe I never got over that.

New.

Ah, that word. Tomorrow I start something new. But today, yesterday, the month before, last Christmas, I also had to start a few new things. ‘Had to’ and ‘few’ being mild interpretations. It involved much arm twisting. Is ‘new’ the new familiar? The mind reels.

Above is (sure ok, you guessed it) a new friend—Little Bear. One that looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re still following, then goofily trips over a hole and falls on his face in the process.

I’m getting tired of new. Unbeknownst to me I had a limit on these things. Recently, for reasons too close to home, I’ve been thinking about dying, why we fear moving on. The answer—obviously—being that no one has come back and told us what it’s like. “Ah, I’m just going to step outside the universe to grab a pack of cigarettes.” is not a phrase one is used to hearing. But that’s a tangent for another time.

Perhaps new is too loaded of a word. Not with possibility, but ripe with fault. Like your brand new car, pristine. Ah, the responsibility of avoiding a pothole, other cars, giving yourself space when parallel parking. The frantic check for dents. But what is really happening? Are you just waiting for that dent to occur, those bumps and bruises, so you can get on with it? Maybe I should think of it as novel, ultra modern. Free of the pressure and responsibility. Forward moving, downhill.

So now as I step into personally uncharted territory. But I will be looking over my shoulder to make sure you’re still there. And hopefully if I don’t fall on my face I’ll come back and describe it to you.

Q

Anonymous asked:

I love reading your writing and thoughts on thoughts, can you do more plz? :)

A

Mais oui, mon ami! Stayed tuned…

In which I spend too much time wondering what would exist if the universe didn’t. Would it be nothing? What would nothing look like? In which I spend too much time wondering what would exist if the universe didn’t. Would it be nothing? What would nothing look like?

In which I spend too much time wondering what would exist if the universe didn’t. Would it be nothing? What would nothing look like?