Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars
when i was 12 i babysat this girl for a few years and she would come to me and show me her art, drag me by my wrists and point at the pieces she’d made during the week. and she’d be like “do the voice” and i’d put on a sports-announcer olympics-style voice and be like “such form! this level of coloring! why i haven’t seen such perfection in crayola in a long time. and what is this? why jeff, now this is a true risk… it seems she’s made … a monochrome pink canvas…. i haven’t seen this attempted since winter 1932… and i gotta say, jeff, it’s absolutely splendid” and she’d fall back giggling. at the end of every night she’d check with me: “did you really like it?” and i’d say yes and talk about something i noticed and tucked her in.
she was just accepted into 3 major art schools. she wrote me a letter. inside was a picture from when she was younger. monochrome pink.
“thank you,” it said, “to somebody who saw the best in me.”
I put on my Tinder profile that I hate sports, I don’t drink beer and I’m 150% feminine all day all the time and so many guys are like…offended? One guy was like “what if the guy you like loves sports, you won’t even watch with him?” And I asked “will you wake up at 8am during fashion week to watch live streams of shows with me because that’s what I’m really interested in. And he said “I don’t really find that interesting.” And I’m like THEN WHY THE FUCK WOULD I CARE ABOUT SPORTS FOR YOU OMG.
