"teach us to care and not to care"
Kayla / 17 / Ottawa, ON /
lover of t s eliot, richard adams, and the zolas

(i have a lot of feelings about nature)


Wistman’s wood | ©Graham M. Green   (Wistman’s Wood, Dartmoor, Devon, England)


Wistman’s wood | ©Graham M. Green   (Wistman’s Wood, Dartmoor, Devon, England)

can’t stop reeling
feel like i’m choking, anyways
on all the fucking crap we make ourselves deal with
as if it actually means anything
my veins are vibrating
always either panic or anger
it’s a charming match-up, really
but with this parentage what else could you expect

got a need to write about Africa
don’t actually know anything other than
bullshit teenage wistfulness
for escapism metaphors, open horizons
reprieve from how Quebec’s cradle over our bodies
feels like a cage by god do I ever need to go
it’s because he used to drive
for hours to get us lost, make us
figure out the directions so we always ended up
wandering for the better part of a day, sometime nights
but we were always moving
sometimes that makes the pain worth it,
to see a forest you have never exactly seen or
a fox cub perched at the wall of field, watching
wondering what the hell the angry-looking man is doing
entering the abandoned shed leaving two young kids
locked in a van wait
I can’t tell if you feel it too, you never talk to me now
but there’s wanderlust in my blood 
so there has to be in yours and I’m just saying
if ocean-ghosts on the rims are suffocating you, too,
just say the word 
we’ll get ourselves lost




Oh you were reading a book about some idiot
And telling me about another

I was so severely underwhelmed
I thought I might never recover

Straighten the rudder girl
And sail me up stairs
And go and find somebody
Who cares
ll we might not be the perfect partners
But tonight we make a pair



jacob said i reminded him a little bit of the way vodka tastes like hell but
that must have been just cause he was stoned and 
i was keeping him from falling into the stream i mean
there were people wandering the paths and i was the only one worried
so how does that look anything like inebriation, right

he liked the fact that i lay out in the rain
for three hours when i was sure i was going to go crazy but
he never would have lain out with me
what’s that even about, anyways,
"you only like people for their stories"
he says “well it’s the only part that matters”
with an affected air, like he’s so smart
hands shaking so badly there’s more weed on the rocks
than the bowl
i want to ask why he continues to smoke if it makes him
so fucking dense, anxious but i know
he’ll say “it’s romantic”
and “you sure remind me of drinking too much”
which never sounds as good as he tries to make it seem 


fall in love // phantogram [until the ribbon breaks reimagination]

download the original via: amazon | itunes

"The single Rose / Is now the Garden"  - Ash Wednesday, T S Eliot

better than u 

better than u 

There’s this rich neighbourhood like 30 minutes from mine with an abandoned house that was just torn down, and it’s creepy as all hell because the gates are still there and the stone walkway is half grown over and the garage door for some reason is caught in the trees and I love it so much