Take me to your dealer

If you're reading this then welcome to my corner of Tumblr. I'm Jamie and I'm just another being trying to make it in a world where you're set up to fail. I live in Washington and if you message me then I'll definitely get stoned then get back to you.

[aliceisgone]

Rivers of Should’s and Ravines of Shouldn't’s

Lost in the world’s whirl, eyes rapid in search for a loose stitch in the fabrication

caving, sunken into this artificially woven penitentiary, the darkly clandestine ravine is seamless; orbs are strained, red rivers grope and disperse through sopping shores of white, and ailing fronds fall under calcification

A writhing paragon pool of lurid lies,

adorned by the augmenting face that plays a hollow role

An ancient brothel heaving a hollow breath for the farce they name a soul

Transitive ego, insufficient for eternity, brewed itself inventive; do not mind the benumbing potency, they say,

 in the grand elixir of belief, you will all be infected.

[aliceisgone]

“Avast!” ...marooned...

 There is no choice of whom my soul will fall in battle for, and my heart of which ascends to a clime that meets no surcease

This corporeal form of which contains such frailty will continue to squirm under the pressure of life’s thumb, though it was you who buried the ax in my chest; and this ax was not just any other, it was laced with an infectious taste of freedom, it pervaded within me just before you decided to heave it from my chest and make your way onto your own voyage, leaving one man marooned from thy former being

How can one navigate thyself from a place thy just so recently came cross to?

Maybe I was merely wandering and you were beautifully, tragically lost

“Avast!” I yelled. “Return! Why must you leave?”

Was there any acquiesce among your haste journey? Did your heart once feel the need to speak to your brain and implore the consideration of shifting the sails; could you feel the helm in your hands, and the reprieve in your heart as you imagine turning back?

I scream to the heavens! I entreat the return of my sanity! of my love! 

My sustenance dwindles under the heavy absence of your touch,

my grasp of self ebbs further and further away from the shore of enlightenment, soon to be engulfed into a sea of where there is no resting place,

 a sea of which you either drown, relinquishing your sight and volition, decaying silently, alone beneath the waves

or

you learn to float, laying on your back as the current takes your mind away into a dream of better lands and later days, regaining consciousness for an ephemeral moment while sprawled in a sopping shroud of repent, looking bleakly up to the sky just before your eyes roll back and return to the dreams that these waves have induced upon you

And so, to the man of whom marooned me on a far shore that I have not the means to navigate, I hope you know that after you left me here, after all these years of passing, I have not died,

although, you might as well have- as you turned your back and sailed away on your precious ship - enveloped me in a linen shroud of forsook, dropped me in my sepulcher of protracted agony, of which my body is dead and my mind is exiled to a land where you remain the sinew of my soul- my lovely, aching appendage of whom I rue my lasting inebriation for

[dailyinspirationquotes]

[discomforted]

A snake was hit by a car. A woman picks him up, feeds him, and gets him to a full state of health. But then he bites her, injecting her with his deadly poison. On her death bed, she asked “after all I did why me?” The snake responds “you knew I was a snake when you picked me up.”

Life Lesson You Should Always Remember (via clinginess)

[books-n-quotes]

I never stopped loving you. Not even for a second. Even when I hated you.

Charles Sheehan-Miles, Just Remember to Breathe (via books-n-quotes)

[aliceisgone]

Inhale, Exhale

A hallow body mirrors my own tangible being, its presence existing as a stratum of thriving grains of sand; molded into the faceless image of me. The bed in which my eyes lay has expired into a breeding ground of noxious weeds that fortify from one viewers blind accumulation of set morals, and irremediable whispers of thought. My eyes are set ablaze once pierced by the parallel pneuma of myself, composed from an unbridled veil of sand grist. For so long I have lived in a realm that rendered me blind to something that was virtually equidistant from me. But when the time came for the abundant consumption of opaque ignorance that my mortal mind has survived the bleak enviorment of, my revived sight rather did not jump to the beautiful innate essence of myself, but to the clutter of the world moving around it. I, instead of unwrapping a new hue of sight after looking into each grain of life that made up the presence in front of me, I ground each individual grain into dust, and I inhaled a world of smoke which wreathed within me, clearing the smog that the world seemed to imbrue me with. Although, as I abused this habit, the sand ceased to operate in ways that I was used to, and the smoke I inhaled left behind a band of fog in my mind. It penetrates my senses at times, leaving me with the dull reminder that my heart is alone amidst these ribs, with no one to caress the skin that protects the last grains of sand that make up the soul within me. I exist between the world where we become the things we think we obtain, and the realm where the only thing that lives is the grist of our souls. I live among minds who underestimate the withdrawl of a world they have been so miserably fooled to act amidst. I suppose, living between worlds has drawn myself into a room where my mere psyche has composed a realm of pause. Physically acting as a drone with no better instincts than to proceed to the normal remedie of self sedation, mentally I sit in that room with my spine aligned to the wall, my knees to my chest, and I silently ponder the hazed sailing which is my life; all the while I inhale my own self eradication.

[aliceisgone]

Entry log, 7/7/17: Going to my therapist today, hopefully something inspires me, wakes me. I hope and I hope and I hope and I hope AND I HOPE, because if I stop then there is pain and despondency.

[aliceisgone]

Screaming, frightening down the halls And the pictures tremble upon shaking walls

Our faces touching in the embrace of a smile, tremble between glass and frame; as we throw empty yells and fractured emotions ‘round awhile

Music may be the one true similarity, bypass the one excuse we call Family

The crestfallen song may come to a halt, but the broken melody within the heart abuse its encore, without a fault

[aliceisgone]

Beautiful weather we're having

I crave words more authentic than we spit. I sit alone, looking at the weather from the depths of my pit. The walls grow higher as I sink deeper; The flowers growing on the sides around me are too weak to climb, I wonder if the weather will change this time.

I sit alone, on the hardness of the Earth, Is this my death or is this my birth? The death of my mind, as I fall to the ground And my skull splits open, And all the wonderful colors bleed into the soil as my eyes drift to nothing. My beautiful colors, my cosmos of thought, My sea of a soul, Merely becomes an oasis of nostalgic drought.

I lay alone, in this pitiful kingdom of mine, My head is stale and the flowers are growing on the sides. The remnant’s of my mouldering soul cannot picture the faces of my past, For that would fade my existence, every second faster than the last.

I die alone in this aging pit of mine, At the bottom where no one can see, At the bottom Where the darkness lingers and always stays, Where the people above can only see a dark hole, Not a girl who nears her grave.

As my heart slows, And my mortal being decay’s My greying eye’s wonder to the sky beyond- How is the weather today?

[aliceisgone]

It’s easier for me to spew all the colored and unfiltered thoughts from my mind, and raw emotions coming from my lips through a breath of impulse, to a complete stranger. My father was worried about me the other night, and his mind is so conditioned that he’s never actually met me and it made it easier to talk, to say all the things I want to say- or need to Because he won’t understand, and he won’t even remember. So for me, it’s much easier to show myself, in whatever state I may be, to someone who I don’t know and doesn’t know me. Maybe that’s my issue. I fall in love with eyes I want to know I show myself to eyes who will be gone in the winds of time And for the ones who stay, who have grown with me since my first harsh winter I show them only what I want to show them But what does that say about me?

[aliceisgone]

I’m taken away by the painting on my wall

I’m taken away by your smile and the way you move

when some people- they aren’t taken away at all.

I slip away into the small illuminations of light on the edges of clouds I’ll never see again

I slip away into every imperfection the human eye is trained to detect, on your face, in your hair

I love that with every second I look upon the dusk firmament realm above me and the smeared colors across it diminishing as it get’s closer to the horizon, that its never the same view twice

I love how you are the only one I see, and what a beautiful sight it is

Take me

Slip me into your unknown

Love me, because I love you

[aliceisgone]

I think I've trained myself to feel as though every time I look at the same face in the same bent mirror, in the same small bathroom with the same somber yellow lighting each morning, it's a darkened shard of glass that sinks deeper as a burden in my soul.

[aliceisgone]

You ever feel like you're wasting away in your own head? An automatic robot with your actions in our human society, but really you're waiting till you're all alone, unbothered so you can marinate in every untouched pool of fiction in your head. I feel dead. This isn't life.

[aliceisgone]

What you think is a tender essence strumming the strings of your heart, is merely your mind clinging to an illusion that suppresses its sickness.

[aliceisgone]

Were you looking too?

I laid there in my same old bed, the smell of stale scented lotion and pot lingering in the crisp air. It was a winter midnight in January and my fan was on low, spiraling the same whitenoise I was used to hearing every night as my thoughts would usually fade into a heavy comatose as its monotonous hum vibrated through the air. But that night my eyes caught attention of a light that peered through a crack in my curtain. I finally decided to jump up with my shield of blankets wrapped around me and I headed to the porch. I was astonished. The moon was shining down on me like a spotlight; its glow crept to the ground and lit up every place where my eyes could wander. The sight and feeling was nearly inexplicable. It was like when you see the one person you love smile; when all the grey and dull clouds have dissipated from the atmosphere and the stars are allowed to breathe and shine, even the dying ones, and then your love smiles, and the light from them shines down on this little corner of the world: your corner. It lights everything up and you're able to see in the night, when all the other nights you've spent seemed so dark. The sky was alive that night, and I think somehow that same light that escaped the moon emitted a ray that whispered something to my heart. For my own sake, I hope my heart was listening.

[aliceisgone]

You were the flame that was always next to my heart to keep it warm and beating. Now that you're gone it's starting to deteriorate into a cold piece of blackness; the faint sound of my heart's pulse getting slower and weaker, lower with vibration is what I now consider my countdown until it freezes and shatters, leaving a forsaken hollow box where something beautiful used to be.

[aliceisgone]

I let my ego control my outer persona motherboard, and my tongue spewed callous words of a nihilistic mind whenever my ego was vexed with any ripple effect from an outside force. My loved ones are beggining to look towards the idea of me hating them, little do they know or consider that after I rage into a cosmos of endless beligerant nature and I shove them out the door, the second I become alone with myself I bow my head in shame, and my soul wraps around my pupils, quenching the place of my ego. And my body comes close together, almost in an attempt to hug myself. And I as I sink into my dirtied pool of my own thoughts and let them prune and saturate me, I realize my afflictions lie in my own inability to accept that I am apart of a world where things constantly change, and I refuse the current.