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Lead Me With Strong Hands
“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches. May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty. When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer. Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age. Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit. May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers. Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait. O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed. And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it. And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes. Amen.” -Tina Fey
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He had been through so much with me <3
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RIP DONOVAN
- Aunt Cat: Made you brownies to send with Moose. Then never got to post office and had to eat them. WORST AUNT EVER!!!!!!!
- Me: My moose!!!!!
- Aunt Cat: WELL IT ACTUALLY IS MY MOOOSE
- Grammy left yours on the airplane!!!!
- So I was going to pass off my same moose as your abducted moose
- YOU'D NEVER KNOW THE DIFFERENCE!!!!!!!
- Me: NOOOOOOO not Donovan!
- why was grammy taking him on the plane?
- Aunt Cat: she wanted him to have a trip??
- she felt all bad for you because you said you slept with him
- so she thought i'd never get to the post office
- so she took him on the plane to mail him from buffalo
- and he was never seen again!
- Me: oh nooooooooo
- Aunt Cat: luckily i have that same silly moose!
- Me: Will he make it to Myrtle Beach?
- Aunt Cat: he's not sure but he is surely going to try!!!!!!
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These beauteous forms,
Through a long absence, have not been to me
As is a landscape to a blind man’s eye;
But oft, in lonely rooms, and ‘mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them,
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
And passing even into my purer mind,
With tranquil restoration: -feelings too
Of unremembered pleasure; such, perhaps,
As have no slight or trivial influence
On that best portion of a good man’s life,
His little, nameless, unremembered, acts
Of kindness and of love. Nor less, I trust,
To them I may have owed another gift,
Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood,
In which the burthen of the mystery,
In which the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world,
Is lightened: -
i carry your heart with me(i carry it inmy heart)i am never without it
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Ilsa, Kayla, Lizzie
For all the times when your love for me was too big for words. -
#William&Maryproblems
- Ilsa: ideally I would have two cats and name them Locke and Hobbes
- Me: *shudder cat lady*
- Ilsa: haha
- Me: the problem then is that Locke would be a nice cat and Hobbes would force Locke to do lots of things he didn't want to
- Ilsa: not true, Locke would be a beast and he could condition Hobbes into submission
- Me: Locke would also do a lot of contradictory things and have an identity crisis halfway through his life
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(via ike-loa)
