it’s not soccer. it’s football.
it’s not a game. it’s a match.
they aren’t cleats. they’re boots.
they aren’t uniforms. they’re kits.
it’s not a field. it’s a pitch.
it’s not a schedule. it’s a fixture.
your shutout wasn’t three-zip. it was three-nil
he’s not a goalie. he’s a keeper.
it’s not a game. it’s a religion.
and kickoff is in three and a half hours. go to fucking bed.
in honor of Everton’s making it to the FA Cup semi-final…well, i just fucking had to do this…
FOLLOW THE JELAVIC ROAD!!!
in that book which is
on the first page
(that is the chapter when
i first met you)
appear the words...
"here begins a new life"
- Dante Alighieri
how beautiful is that?
i am an unholy mess of a girl.
i am left handed.
i am stubborn.
i am made of stardust.
i am unshakably prejudiced in favor of Georgia peaches.
i am addicted to rock and roll of every variety.
i am a feminist who prefers the company of men.
i am beautiful.
i am just not capable of resisting the Beatles.
i am an atheist who wants to believe in something more, but doesn’t need to.
i am awake now.
i am amazed by the world around me.
i am against the designated hitter rule.
i am seeing things through new eyes.
i am not the girl your mother warned you about.
i am not alone.
i am never going to give up.
i am coming out of exile soon.
i am Susannah.
i am going to bed now.