(Source: horansporn)
Posted 4 hours ago
Posted 21 hours ago
Writings for Winter: the greeks believed in apricots as the cure for unrequited love
If I can’t have the boy, at least I can have his clothes.
They leave their sweaters, their jackets, their blue jeans draped
over my bed like petals, filling the bathtub, rising to the surface
of the water like buoys. Always men have told me
that I don’t look eighteen-a few years older,…
Posted 4 days ago
I had a bunch of ideas for what that song could be, but I didn’t feel it was right for me to give Ryan a song to give to Michelle. And so I gave him a challenge and let him pick out a song for her. Ryan has great taste and the song he picked out was You and Me by Penny and the Quarters. And I thought it was just great. So I told Ryan to keep the song a secret, and never share it with Michelle until we were shooting. So they day came to shoot the scene, Ryan had the song in his back pocket, and we captured the real moment where one person gives an other person the gift of music. The gift, because it came from Ryan, was personal. Michelle was touched deeply by it. What happens on the screen is a real, living and breathing, intimate moment.
Derek Cianfrance
(Source: howtocatchamonster)
Posted 6 days ago
‘Well, whatever else happens between us, at least we know that part works.’
Posted 1 week ago
Each time I’m asked to tell about myself, I find myself starting the same way: “My name is Kelsey and I’m nineteen..”
but what I’d really like to say is:
“My name means island of the ships but once
I found a translation that said I’m a burning shipwreck-
not a burning ship but a ship that has caught fire
after the wreckage and well, I’d say that’s more fitting.”
I’ve learned that people don’t have time for about me’s.
They need two things: a name and an indication you’re someone special.
The doctors, they want facts not details.
“I broke my leg when I was three, it’s a funny story actually-“
The right or the left?
Conversation over.
The teachers, they want interests, hobbies.
You’re sad, yes, but what do you like to do?
The adults are a spew of questions.
What school do you go to? What classes are you taking?
What do you plan on becoming? Got a boyfriend?
No, stop.
People my own age are the worst.
“I’m planning on an English degree with a concentration in creative writing.”
Yeah, aren’t we all. So how many times have you, you know,
done it?
I’m pulled apart, my interests travelling highway 2
my goals at a stop light at traffic hour,
my medical history on a billboard for the world to see.
But what about me?
Where’s the chance to say,
“I hang on to fistfuls of poetry like loose change in my pockets,
and I keep waiting for the day that the world turns upside down
so I can swim with the stars.
I’m not afraid of darkness, it’s a loneliness I can empathize with it.
It’s the blackholes like cigarette burns inside of me that get troublesome.
I walk through graveyards and read the dashes between years,
each a story I’ll never know. Sometimes I create my own.”
No wonder none of us know who we are anymore.
Kelsey Danielle, “I Was Told to Write an About Me and This is What Happened” (via pale-afternoon)
My name's Bridget, i'm 17, from Boston (sort of) MA, and i'm fucking hilarious. Awesome.
