zondag 29 november 2009
Today, in geography class, my teacher suddenly started to speak about how the magnetic poles change direction, and that you can identify the age of a stone by checking the orientation of the minerals or something like that. This reminded me so much of you that I silently had to repeat the names of different dinosaurs just to keep myself from crying. I still think about your voice in my ear, lecturing about the history of the earth while your fingers trace my rib cage. It was the best, and I just wish you would realize how wrong it is for you to live in another country.
vrijdag 27 november 2009
dinsdag 24 november 2009
This afternoon is different, our words are moving in and out and in sync as if they were making love. Philosophical debates, I'm twisted enough to major in the subject and he's deep enough to read the Allegory in the Cave as he beats on the table to Radiohead. Our minds collaged on a series of threads, such as Buddhism and Claustrophobia. Beliefs and terror, we sat chic in our words as I clutched my lighter and he slid his hand between my legs. His fingers moved up as our conversation heightened. Just as quickly as our conversation had began it burned out like the candle I drooped from my 13th floor apartment. With us though, its not about bantering sounds and constant motion of speech. Rather our love is evident through the impending comfortable silence that alters itself alive through our eyes and creeps off our fingertips.
This beautiful story is writen by the even more beautiful girl on the photo's, Rachel from She can read, She's bad. In this overfashionblogged world it is refreshing to find a gem between all those blurry mirrorpictures. The first time I came across her blog I was haunted by her photo's and after that I began to read the stories she wrote. They all are touching and sometimes heartbreaking. I can't speak for what she has to say, go look for yourself.