NSFW I'm Nova. Suicide Girl hopeful. I love listening, so feel free to vent. Beauty is relative.
I know it’s fucked up to say, but I feel successful having not eaten at all today. But I also feel pretty depressed. Scales taunt me.
Oh—you wouldn’t date a girl who’s ever been a stripper?
Oh—you wouldn’t date a girl who’s ever done porn?
You’re the reason we exist.
As they say in the industry, “People jack off with the left hand and point with the right.”
She said, ‘I’m so afraid.’ And I said, ‘why?,’ and she said, ‘Because I’m so profoundly happy. Happiness like this is frightening.’ I asked her why and she said, ‘They only let you be this happy if they’re preparing to take something from you.’
But under the silence of what we say to each other is the much more articulate silence of what we don’t say to each other, a storm of things unspoken, coiled, reserved, appointed, ticking away like a clock attached to a time-bomb: crash, fire, demolition wound up in the quietly, almost tenderly, small, familiar things unspoken.
I think people spend too much time staring into screens and not enough time drinking wine, tongue kissing, and dancing under the moon.