hcowens

hcowens

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What exactly is the entree going to be? I'm sick of waiting.

Fancy shmancy. We don't need nice things in order to survive.

"Popcorn prayer, WHAAAAAAAAT?"

blast

Sonic, off, Pacific Overtures mainly, fun fun fun, an exclamation, a rumour.

loss

you're a loss. you're a massive loss. even though you're still here, you're not here. you're one thousand and sixty fucking miles away, and i'm lost without you. i'm scared that some little blonde girl is going to be charmed by your curly red hair and your worn wool sweaters, and one day you'll hold her hand and realize that you don't love me anymore. that would be a loss. a loss greater than anything i can fathom.

loss

Loss is a tricky thing; because sometimes it can actually be a good thing. And you wonder- how can something be good if it leaves a gaping hole in your heart, if it impairs you from feeling anything lovely anymore? Sometimes it's for the better, and nothing sucks more than having to admit that to yourself.

Carnival is a happy word. I have nothing happy to feel, to say, to think, or to do today. Therefore, this word means nothing to me. Maybe tomorrow.

It's been a festival. Kind of like a big giant never ending party, where everyone is invited and it's all fun and games and no one thinks to realize that the end has to come at some point, so we all just continue to live on in oblivion. And now we're here. We have two days and it's over, and we're never going to have a second shot at it all.

Obviously, the first thing that pops into my mind is Sondheim's "Into the Woods" with "I wish to go to the festival!" repeated over and over and over until I want to die a little bit.

Platinum hair, platinum album. I used to want to dye my hair platinum and put a giant blue streak in it.

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writing since 2011 · 71 entries · 60 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Hollie showed up.

14longest streak

60days written

1.5entries / week

on this day 15 years ago

Hollie wrote about boiling
“Honestly, I think this word is kind of revolting. It's boiling hot outside though; really, it is. Last I checked it was one hundred and one degrees.”

the words Hollie reaches for

wordnowstepremindsforgetleastcastsometimesticketsrememberbackpacklovepaintedgodlimoradio