I Am In My 20s But Also In My Teenage Years And Also In My 40s

From Circe by Madeline Miller

The calm within Matilda was, above all, dense. César noticed that the first time they met, and to this day he believes that her aura – vibe, whatever – was responsible to keep him calm and avoid a very awkward situation; instead of asking the girl 'what the fuck are you doing inside my house? leave now', he asked his brother 'what the fuck is she doing inside our house?' and it was all good, settled. “ Good. ” He pointed to both cups, crossing arms next, defiant towards the challenge. “ You are old enough to drink, right? ” He knew the answer, of course, but: (a) picking on Matilda was mandatory; (b) this was a strategy to see her as a child and, hence, harmless; (c) he started drinking at fourteen, so what was the legal age, anyway?  “ Go for it, Matilda, I trust your smart brain. ” And he did. And that was the problem: her potential was even bigger than her awkwardness.

｡:゜᪤｡ event # 𝟎𝟎𝟏 — in celebration . ⭑𓂃 feat. @applecrumb :

The crowd was attentive as ever, eyes following the three cups, mouths shutted in a thin line. César could feel the tension building up everytime he dared to make a move, just to go back with his wrist, putting cup B back in place and moving cup C instead.  It was a silly game, really, one he pulled out during family gatherings to entertain his younger cousins, to keep the kids away from the pool for a couple of minutes after lunch. Usually the prize was very modest: a five dollar bill, a chocolate bar, or a very popular favourite, one package of strawberry gum.  Adults, however, played for fun. Or frustration. Nobody was able to guess at the sixth try, and César gave up, laughing and surrendering himself. “ Look, I tried my best to make it easier for you guys… ” Three people started chanting then, asking for another chance, just one more, seven is my lucky number, man!, but César moved on, taking the cup A and cup B to be his companion near the mini fridge.  He held the two cups and his hip flask, taking a sip from it, but not daring to make a face. “ New game, friends! YOU! ” Index finger pointed to a random man sitting on the couch. “ Will guess what drink I made for cup A and cup B, and, oh, yeah, this time there’s a prize… ” He took another big sip, still not telling how strong that unknown drink was. “ And I will keep it a secret, but just know I’m wearing it, so, good luck. ”  Beer! “ Both cups? ” Yeah! “ Wrong. ” Beer and water with… sugar? “ Wrong.” Beer and beer with coke? “ Which kind of coke…? No, wrong! ” And so on. “Ok, next one to get it wrong will owe me a favour or ten bucks, I don’t care. TRY harder, people! ”

i once turned into a bat and flew home from the club

Cain by José Saramago translation by Margaret Jull Costa

💿⁉️ : cicadas are singing to eightiesbby. dni if you are not part of the choir. leaf owned by diaz ( he / they ) + twenty4. all bugs are coming to town ! ｡𖦹°‧ wby .ᐣ

๋ ࣭ ⭑๋ ࣭ ⭑ ── . intro . playlist . pinterest . + . tags . moodboards . ᝰ.ᐟ

⠀⠀⠀⢸⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡄ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⣏⠻⣶⣤⡶⢾⡿⠁ ⠀⠀⣀⣼⠷⠀⠀⠁⢀⣿⠃⠀ ⠴⣾⣯⣅⣀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣦⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⢻⡇⣤⣾⣿⣷⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⡿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠟⠁⠀⠀i just wanted to leave another star here. enjoy the sky&ty for reading! <3

｡:゜᪤｡ open starter — at : break room . ⭑𓂃

Something’s wrong. Maybe it’s the new sugar Clementine got, or is the mug? He should've stuck to his old mug, but he just couldn't find it. Who could he blame then? Emilio, probably, since César saw the preppy asshole eyening the mug with a sort of… desire. Desire to steal.  Drinking the coffee again, César felt the urge to scream. What the fuck is wrong with it? He looked to the left, spotting the first person to walk in the break room. “ I need you. ” He voiced, serious as ever. “ Can you taste the coffee I made and explain to me what the fuck is wrong with it? It’s not as good as it should be. Something terrible happened. ”

Source: It is known among the wise

— Kaveh Akbar, from “Ways to Harm a Thing.”

Trace Evidence, Charif Shanahan