Dead Poets Society

I write a lot of quotes and various writings inspired by different authors or myself. I use music a lot to write hence why these writings have different vibes.

[andrexi1]

I followed her from here to there and loved her from much to most yet she twisted me from in love to bruised. She kissed my skin with her cruel-speaking lips, burned my photo of her with my matches and made me the arsonist

[andrexi1]

Things get used and hurt, book covers and the corners of tables at cafes, specific parts of me and flowers picked for no reason; how she could have chosen me and made such careless choices in her twisted love I do not know

[andrexi1]

She rode and crawled under the covers up to my chin, I swear I could see her soul down her throat. What a beautiful woman she was and what humanity I lacked as I told her that this was her destined happiness and that she practiced it good

[andrexi1]

She hated my being so she shot a hole through my hand, yet such a pathetic animal I was that I looked at her through the hole and stomped the pain away as long as she was standing across from my bleeding hand

[andrexi1]

“—I was not a temple, not even the rock used to make one, I was not sacred like the words with a rosary in hand, I was an orgy of abandonment and unfilled promises and also that which others struggled to forget—“

[andrexi1]

she cursed every ounce of me, even up to the flesh underneath my nails, she saw all of me as dirty, said all her curses with such little second thought like an angry parent towards a child who didn’t know better

[andrexi1]

We crucified him and poked his bleeding side, that carpenter who we crucified and didn’t even let pick his wood

[andrexi1]

I carried you like rosaries in my pocket, I carried you my measured amount of faith

— about love some think forbidden

[andrexi1]

“—Peek through the hole in my room again, I implore, peek and you might see stars and constellations and brain matter across the space fabric of my carpet—“

— The last words of a blinded astronomer

[andrexi1]

“You wanted me to hate myself, you liked a begging creature but no longer can I be one as I ask why you avoid mirrors”

[andrexi1]

“— it is like this Vasili, you swim, you come close to drowning, you learn to swim and then you never forget about when you almost drowned—“

[andrexi1]

—If the seas ever look like they’ll burn ahead, walk backwards, just don’t walk too far back to shore into another fire—

[andrexi1]

Some want to be the adventurous little boat, some the calmness of the seas, and me? I have never wanted to be anything more than than the boat that answers to sailor’s flares

[andrexi1]

And when I had no shore in sight and half a wooden oar, you arrived; the wind behind my sails

[andrexi1]

through a belittled boat I make my way to yours and hand you my last oar; I only need two legs to paddle me towards any shore while i guarantee you one

[andrexi1]

Most people get replaced like the wood on ships too heavily touched by waves; we still search for the same wood in others and we still think we have the same ship. Even the waves have passed and are different.

[andrexi1]

In the highlands of Loch Lomond there are some doomed to walk the low roads and never again know them to be high