i’ve never loved the stars. but when i saw them the night we met, i couldn’t help but be enchanted. was it just me or were the twinkling stars’ iridescence even more beautiful that night--as if the night sky shone brighter when you were there? and perhaps they were--perhaps the stars were blowing kisses to us from above, sprinkling stardust upon us.

you taught me the meaning of the stars, stringing together constellations for the two of us to cherish. you showed me the secrets of the night, and together we would spend up in the heavens above. and we would wave towards moonboy, throw roses towards our starprince, kiss foreheads of the children of the stars, bowing our heads in thanks towards plato; we would travel to universes unknown, gathering constellations along the way.

and my dear, we’re five months in the making--dreaming of otherworldly wonders and travelling through time again and again. for five months i’ve dreamed again and again, for five months i’ve wished upon stars so readily, for five months i trace the curves of the moon and think of you.

you taught me more than the meaning of the stars, you taught me what it means to smile again. you gifted me with nighttime lullabies and twilight stardust. and i’ve never told you, but dear, i think you’re beautiful. you have a heart of gold, and how your heart shines in the darkness. and when our constellations intersect, i remember the first time you gave me the stars.

and perhaps one day, we’ll see the stars from the same night sky and collect constellations together by the blessings of moon boy. perhaps one day we’ll travel through the night once more and whisper to the stars alluring memories. for with you, i find myself falling for the same star.

and on this day, i gift you the night sky, the stars, the moon, the planets, the constellations, the dreams we’ve crafted and shot up into the night. on this day, i gift you the stars you gave me that first day.

happy birthday my dear astraea.

I've been thinking about my career a lot; I'm starting to wonder if SNL's like an old comfy first love and that's why I keep coming back to wanting it or if it's something I actually want to do.

Here's the thing. So ever since I was a little kid I've been obsessed with Saturday Night Live. Like, before I even knew what it was I'd wake up early as a kindergartener to watch Mighty B, or I'd do impressions of my dad doing "Get Off The Shed" (which, by the way, is a masterpiece). And that was all well and good, and of course I like SNL, everyone does, right? Maybe?

Something I don't show a lot online is my funny side, that's mostly because I fall into this rut of thinking that funny people aren't seen as smart. But that's so not true! The Office writers are beyond smart, literally just listen to Mindy Kaling sometime and you'll see what I mean. But also I'm...not Mindy Kaling. Or Tina Fey. Or Maya Rudolph, Kate McKinnon (God, what a queen), I'm not my childhood hero Amy Poehler. Couldn't even try to be. I'm seventeen year old Riley F (because there's always a Riley C or a Riley T or K) who can't decide what the hecking heck she wants to do with her life.

The ultimate goal for me was always SNL. I wanted to write for them. Be a comedy writer. My comedy stuff's pretty good. I guess you can't fact check that though--I'll have to change that. But that's always been what's floated around the back of my mind, every age and every stage.

I also wanted to be an artist. I wanted to paint pictures and make songs. I want to make documentaries. And I so long to be an intellectual. I love law. I love history and english. For people to view me as smart--that's holy grail.

And I guess I've narrowed it down a bit--I'm not great at art, music's really only a hobby to me. I have an awful relationship with cameras, but that documentary is a maybe-someday thing. Law is amazing, my parents don't have the money to give me that education. I don't think it's possible to get the scholarships I need. And in the back of my mind, is that really what I want anyway?

SNL, you're like an old cardigan. I watch you and it's like I feel...real. I feel like an actual person because I'm looking at something I can actually do. You feel like childhood and the magical summer after ninth grade and being able to see what you've always kind of dreamt about but kept secret.

But I don't know how to get to you. I don't know how to break into that. What do I major in, right? What do I do? And that's so niche, like I might not even make it and that's just a big old waste.

So now what?

Whoever knew that the people who created "Target Lady Meets Her First Lesbian" could also create such existential dread?

(It's almost kind of nice knowing nobody reads these anymore. You've all given up, or I've bored you to death. In a weird sense, I'm free.)

Well now really when we go back then to falling in love. And say it’s crazy falling. You see we don’t say rising into love. There is in it the idea of the fall. And it is goes back as a matter of fact two extremely fundamental things that there is always a curious tie at some point between the fall and the creation. Taking this ghastly risk, is the condition of there being life. You see, for all life is an act of faith and an act of gamble. The moment you take a step, you do so on an act of faith, because you don’t really know that the floors not going to give in to your feet. The moment you take a journey what an act of faith. The moment you enter into any kind of human undertaking in relationship what an act of faith you see you’ve given yourself up. But this is the most powerful thing that can be done surrender see and love is an act of surrender to another person. Total abandonment. I give myself to you. Take me, do anything you like with me. So, that’s quite mad because you see it’s letting things get out of control all sensible people keep things in control. Watch it, watch it, watch it. Security. Vigilance. Watch it police, watch it Gods, watch it , who’s going to watch the Gods? So actually there for all the cost and wisdom what is really sensible is to let go that is to commit oneself to give oneself up and that’s quite mad, so we come to the strange conclusion that in madness lies sanity.

I WANT TO BE THE SUN

I WANT TO BURN UNAPOLOGETICALLY AND BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFULLY

THE WORLD WORLD FEELING MY EXISTENCE

THOUSANDS OF LIGHT YEARS AWAY

my hair still mangles herself into your face on freckled tile, did you know?

i watch, shivering and wrapped in my shower curtain. / i watch till it’s time for me to take you and your smirk to the sink, / your eyes sticking to my fingers without fail. / my fingers, your eyes, your mouth, / they shake jointly / while i drown them on porcelain and let the drain choke on their skeletons. / i’ve come to think of it as an art. / the drowning of you, i mean. /

my fingers crumple and pull and wrench and hinge and scratch / at black strands twisting into a counterfeit print of your breath / i wipe it all away with my palms / (your breathing, though fake, was fogging up my mirror) / and your mouth curls to the beat of my hair rearranging herself on the inside of my wrist. /

your nose always sprawls on the tile longest, / and i would laugh at the sight of it if my lips weren’t pressed so tight together. / they don’t like the taste of salt, you see. /

last week i started drowning you with my teeth. / it’s easier this way. / i believe i’ve mastered the art, / and i rather think the taste of salt is growing on me. / now, my hair splits in the gaps of my teeth / as i rip it away with a vengeance. / you, darling, won’t ever have to hear it. /

This is something that has probably happened to all of us: the radio turns on, and your current favorite song starts blasting. You grab the hairbrush that has never left the side pocket of the car and start screaming the lyrics. When you finish your *ahem* beautiful rendition of whatever song is playing, everyone’s staring at you. Someone hands you their phone and scrolls down to the song who’s lyrics you just butchered. Oops.

Okay, maybe just me, but I’m pretty sure everyone has misheard song lyrics at some point, whether they belted out the lyrics in front of people or not. These are three of my favorites:

The Story Of My Life by One Direction

Actual lyrics: “The story of my life, I take her home”

Lyrics that my three-year-old self heard: “The story of my life, I dig a hole”

Grenade by Bruno Mars

Actual lyrics: "Cause baby I would catch a grenade for ya, throw my hand on a blade, for ya”

Lyrics that my babysitter heard: "Cause I would catch a pomegranate for ya, would put it on a plate, for ya”

Dancing Queen by ABBA

Actual lyrics: “See that girl, watch that scene, dig in the dancing queen”

Lyrics seven-year-old me heard watching Mamma Mia for the first time: "See that girl, watch her scream, kicking the dancing queen”

I write for so many reasons

I take all this chaos within my head, and put it into words

So many demons within me.

Funny right?

1 friend in reality

80 friends online.

Funny right?

Why do people not like me?

See?

Use that.

I feel so alone

I really do

And I take all that pain within my heart,

And put it all into words

Even if no one sees it

“People don’t know what It’s like to try and make yourself feel nothing,

Just so you can numb the pain.”

I don’t do this.

Writing is my way to numb the scars left behind by everyone I trusted

That’s why I write

It’s also why I have no friends

And that is why I feel so alone

And THAT is why I write

All these monsters within me, Are slowly being killed as I move my pencil across the paper

I don’t need any friends.

One

I only have one. And that’s all I need.

Let my words forever be my escape

As I watch myself slowly change from frowns

To smiles

It won’t be long before I drown out the feeling,

of being alone.

But for now I can’t stop asking myself

“Why do people not like me?”

How far, how deep in life

would you go for love.

Across the world?

Across a universe?

How far would you go?

https://voicespice.com/Player.aspx?c=p&h=1B095A71&j=1C8E5A

Ok so first off, I know it’s stupid. I have writer’s block, so instead of writing a poem, I wanna’ expain something dumb I always do.

So when I read someone’s username, I just shorten it. My mind will see the name, and instead of pronouncing how it is, my mind just makes up it’s own little nickname. Ok, here, I’ll use you guys as examples.

Take the user ”dctezcan” for example. You see the name, right? Yeah, well I don’t say it like I see it. In this case, I change it to “Dezacan”

I don’t even know why I do this. It’s just some random habit. Here, let’s go through some.

The user “oceanelsie” is changed to “Oceanis”

The user ”Moonsinger128″ Is changed to “Moonslinger”

The user ”randomsoda” is changed to “Randoma” (Don’t even ask, I know how dumb this sounds)

The user ”alesean” Is changed to “Alean”

The user ”ValiantRaptor47″ Is changed to “ViolentRaptor”

The user ”Tanagura” is changed to “Tangura” (Just without the other “A”)

The user ”Biohazard” Is changed to “Boazard” (I pronounce it Bo-a-stard)

The user ”QuietisViolent” Is changed to “Quietvence”

*Yeah I know, they're not even real words*

So yeah, I know how dumb this all is. It’s just when I see a complex name, my mind just changes it to make it easier to read. I don’t call you guys by those names, but that’s just what comes to mind within the first few seconds I see them. All I did was go through my followers list and see who I did this the most to. But yeah, I have this probelm on a LOT more people, so if anyone is actually curious, you can go ahead and ask how I see your name, I’ll probably give you a dumb response lol.

Now just keep in mind, I am actually overcoming this problem, so to anyone who may have gotten offended, just know that I don’t refer to you all in those names. Again, It’s just what comes to mind within the first few seconds I see them.

Out of curiosity though, anyone else got this issue?

“What do all stories have in common?”

“They end.”

“Tell me a story that will never end.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Try.”

“Love, leave, weep, repeat.”