Heart of my heart, were it more, More would be laid at your feet.

II. Hobbling out of Jim Mullen’s Bar
down in Chelsea, I grasp Polonius’s
elbow & cry: I would give you violets,
but they wither’d all when my father died.
His reply? You’re the one who let me hide.

-Jen Jabaily-Blackburn

 

 

In other news- my hatred for James Franco is making me really competitive. I can't stop reading reviews and absorbing everything and as much as I can get my hands into. I refuse to be a fucking cunt of James Franco ilk. I am going to put the work in until im boiling over or grave bound.

fuck you James Franco. you are detestable. and you provide me with the anger I need to keep going.