this is a drowning poet's sinking poetry. @alex-offrecord - Tumblr Blog

and in the Anatomy of Being when Shinji Moon said,

“hurt everyone you love, and then commit every felony to win them back”

I took it to the heart.

P1, George Russell at the RedBull Ring, Austria Round 8; 2026.

George Russell. Deserves his flowers. Somebody who embodies the perfect spirit of charm, candour, charisma and courage of our fabled sport. An absolute dominator on the wheels, whisperer to his tyres and a perfectly efficient driver focusing on each detail of this endlessly data driven sport.

a fellow football fan asked me to describe George in football terms, and I said he's Mikel Arteta at Arsenal (iyk,yk) - always the bridesmaid, never the bride.

But Not Today :)

this woman, 20 yards diagonally to my desk , dry like frozen butter, chandelier hair, glasses heavier than a microscope’s verdict, spine chilling eye contact-hoping her eyes don’t fall on you; would by far be the bane of my existence.

July 7, 2024 - the last time cried my brains out.

Lap 43, Lewis in lead at Barcelona, strategy working perfectly, the pace, everything

this June evening might just ?

can't help but wonder if it's just me or is Salman Khan losing it all as well?

i really want to have a Black Forest Cheesecake sunk in maple syrup with a float of pear sauce and dried blueberry chunks in it.

i'm partially ready to dance with death after that.

just the other day me and my mom were talking over a cup of coffee how i should start considering getting married on a serious note. to which i kept arguing how difficult it is to find and keep the real ones , my mom gave up eventually. we started going towards the car and she was supposed to drop me off somewhere (yes my mom still drives me around) and i kept complaining how bloody hot it was. as soon as i circled across and sat on the passenger side, i saw her slyly turning her side of the AC vent towards where i was gonna sit and she just jokingly said 'this is how you know the real ones cuz it's 44 degrees for both of us'.

and she just started talking something else until we dropped me off.

alex-offrecord

watched the Project Hail Mary a couple nights ago. a friend was dropping me home and i asked if i could play a song on her car audio. and then we played Song of the Times by Harry Styles and i think everyone and everything is in a drop dead matrix and all that matters is you floating in the infinity of space, devoid of time, with the gravity taking away from you a burning cigarette and the aether of whiskey drowning inside your body - death is only romantic if it's poetic.

alex-offrecord

the same friend categorised this post as a Stage 1 - Bukowski and/or Terminal Stage - Atticus.

oh how i love women!!

watched the Project Hail Mary a couple nights ago. a friend was dropping me home and i asked if i could play a song on her car audio. and then we played Song of the Times by Harry Styles and i think everyone and everything is in a drop dead matrix and all that matters is you floating in the infinity of space, devoid of time, with the gravity taking away from you a burning cigarette and the aether of whiskey drowning inside your body - death is only romantic if it's poetic.

it's 6 PM and it's raining cats and dogs in Bangalore and i am sat here losing my mind in this heat all over again.

watching Donald Trump on twitter has made me realise that Kanye was not wrong, he was just ahead of his time - the world wasn't ready for Kanye West during & after Donda

can we please normalise mental breakdown dates with friends? no gender biasness please

tonight, at this moment i think i understand what the death of a dog feels like.

the underrated sentiment of a parked car conversation >>>

watching the league phase of UCL where City are trailing 3-1 to Bodo/Glimt and this is the closest I wanna get to inflicting self-harm as a human.

after all these years on this god-forsaken planet i think i met what felt like my kryptonite.

or perhaps the sun was too dim on me today.

i reckon Gods, do bleed.

I'm nearing my thirties now, and if falling in love doesn't feel like coming to a town that isn't uprooted by war, i don't want it

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

this is a drowning poet's sinking poetry.