Jirashimosu (@jirashimosu) • Collective gay friends app

Jirashimosu @jirashimosu

A half‐life was all I merited, I told myself. I didn’t deserve what came so easily to other men. Who, after all, would want to touch someone as soiled as me?

Happiness felt very far away, and like something only the innocent were entitled to.

Unredeemable Sunday Colors

“Writing is my only consolation. It’s a companion, someone with whom I can talk, eat, sleep, at whose side I can dream and have nightmares, the only friend whose company I can bear at present.”

How smart is it to get mad at a mountain? Either climb it or go around it, but don’t spend a lifetime waiting for it to move. Only a fool does that.

“The stage is empty / the real storm rages backstage.”

It was love, of course. And tomorrow, there will be a great emptiness.

people are always building a web of lies around a kernel of truth and calling it honesty

When I go, brother, you better tremble, ‘cause I ain’t going to go in silence.

our evenings are rarely our own

People barely had room to grieve the loss of others, let alone pieces of themselves. And yet, unmourned, such fragments were bound to haunt.

There are two things that necessitate violence: overthrowing capitalism, and love.

Marianne Faithfull was the irrefutable proof that from our ashes, the most essential, complete, and powerful version of ourselves can emerge. 20th Century Blues will forever play, hoarse and smoke-laden, scratching the polish of the most expensive surface.

In attempting to possess something that was never there we lost something we already had

I think I’m kind of a poet because when I finally find a deer left behind by a herd I eat the heart first

new old martha / old new me