life in the arctic. RSS

"truth and beauty are wonderful words, but shrapnel is shrapnel. and at the end of the day, i am alone with the things i have done."

the soon-to-be legitimately published writings of dani tauber.

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(stealing anything from here is both pointless and stupid; all of the actual writing is under copyright and will be published soon anyways. thank you.)

Archive

Nov
22nd
Sun
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i worked my ass off for this trophy my senior year in high school…the performing arts department at my old HS is ranked number one in the state of NJ and we clean house at competition every year. i worked so fucking hard, theatre was my life back then. and i won. and i was so happy for like, a week. now the thing sits on my dresser. it’s a piece of dusty plastic, and i hang necklaces off of it.

it’s so strange how the amount of value you place on certain things in your life changes as you grow older.

i worked my ass off for this trophy my senior year in high school…the performing arts department at my old HS is ranked number one in the state of NJ and we clean house at competition every year. i worked so fucking hard, theatre was my life back then. and i won. and i was so happy for like, a week. now the thing sits on my dresser. it’s a piece of dusty plastic, and i hang necklaces off of it.

it’s so strange how the amount of value you place on certain things in your life changes as you grow older.

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INSTALLMENT 72

[not actually] where flowers come from.
11.20.09

her mother, my aunt, had just passed away;
cancer…the ugliest six letters in the world.
but a four year old knows nothing about
such ugliness, and so we sat on the
living room floor. she coloured, i watched.
halfway finished with a pink elephant, she
set her crayon down and just
looked up at me. “mommy’s dead,” she said.
“i know,” i told her. she sighed.
“she isn’t ever coming back,” she said.
“does it make you sad?” i asked her.
she looked at the floor and started picking
at the carpet. “no,” she said.
“i’m not sad, because, when you die,
you go in the ground, and then the
flowers grow.” she smiled, running her
hands over the carpet as if it were grass.
i wanted to tell her no, that flowers come
from seeds scattered by birds and the wind, or
planted by people in gardens, and that
your skin and bones and hair and fingernails and
even your cancer, it all just turns to dust.
instead i smiled, and she picked up her crayon to
finish her elephant. “mommy’s in heaven now,” she said.
“mhmm,” i said, and she coloured, and i watched.

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thecoffinaffairs:

Be still my heart



matthew gray gubler…AND a puppy. sweet jesus. i can’t even. omg.

thecoffinaffairs:

Be still my heart

matthew gray gubler…AND a puppy. sweet jesus. i can’t even. omg.
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(via mydarling)

(via mydarling)

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DEAR SEAN NALLY I DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE A THIEF / RAT / NO-GOOD RABBLEROUSER PLEASE BE MY BOYFRIEND PLEASE AND I LOVE YOU LOVE DANI.

Nov
20th
Fri
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(via shitgaze)

(via shitgaze)

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britneyfontanapants:

(via hayleycakes)


some of my friends (ALEX STOLTE) are sick of hearing about how much i love this man. XD

britneyfontanapants:

(via hayleycakes)

some of my friends (ALEX STOLTE) are sick of hearing about how much i love this man. XD