Things aren’t always going to be easy.
When you are in the sixth grade you will
jump out of your window to escape the beating on the door.
You will walk with no shoes down the road late at night.
You’ll be okay, don’t be scared.
When you turn 15 you’ll meet him.
And two months later you will give him everything.
It’s not beautiful.
Don’t fool yourself.
Look, you are going to pack up and move away
but you won’t be happy when you get there.
Call your mom and tell her you love her.
(and don’t sign that second lease)
Don’t marry him. He’s not the one.
Listen to your heart when you make the guest list
and forget to include yourself.
That sick feeling won’t be nerves.
Run, I know you want to.
Baby girl, you are beautiful.
Don’t spend those years pushing down on your hipbones.
Be gentle to your body.
When you are 19, you’ll fall in love with yourself.
Please listen to me.
When he says he doesn’t know why he loves you, just walk away.
That boy only loves the way your body curves around his.
Don’t stop writing.
One day you will get the courage to share your words.
You’ll regret ripping the pages and burning your journal of five years.
(don’t listen when he says your words are pathetic)
And I know you won’t understand this but
the guy who drives the jeep, he’ll kiss you on the beach.
Please tell him not to give up,
you might just save a life.
1. Stop faking your fucking orgasms. Society already tells young men that they run the fucking universe - if they can’t turn your cunt into a shooting star then for god’s sake, let them know about it.
2. Once you’ve stopped faking your fucking orgasms, use this newfound honesty throughout the rest of your life - stop ordering coffee you don’t actually like; stop sitting at a desk and allowing people to treat you like shit in the hopes that a meek attitude will earn you a promotion (it won’t); stop telling people they can finish your food when you’re not actually done yet. These may seem petty, but they add up, just like every orgasm you didn’t actually get to have.
3. If you wanna dance all night, dance all fucking night. Dance all night even if you have work in the morning. The worst that will happen is you’ll drink RedBull all day and look like a zombie - pass it off as a head cold to the real zombies you work with and flick through the embarrassing photos you’re being tagged in as you pretend to take a shit for some peace and quiet. I promise, you’ll remember dancing all night in ten years, not the suspicious way your boss looked at you that morning.
4. If your ass looks big in that, that’s a good thing.
5. You will never be as young as you are this second. Embrace it.
6. Embrace the fact that you’re going to get older. Ask your boyfriend if he will still love you when you’re seventy and your tits are down to your knees. Look forward to this time - seventy year old women are allowed to do pretty much whatever they want, and no-one can stop them. You can carry candy in your bag and not share it with a single soul. You can stay home all day and cross-stitch expletives onto handkerchiefs for your grandchildren and slip them under the table out of sight of the people you raised. You can drink whisky at 10am. Every phase of your life is going to be amazing for different reasons. Embrace that.
7. A lot of people will pretend to love Bukowski. Don’t pretend to love Bukowski if you don’t love Bukowski. It’s overplayed and no-one will mind if you actually like Virginia Andrews instead - the people who do mind are boring."
How long has it been since someone touched part of you other than your body?"
Staring for like FOREVER gawd help me
holy shit this is hot