Claire Keane
Today's Document

pixel skylines

shark vs the universe

#extradirty

Kaledo Art
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
noise dept.
Show & Tell
Peter Solarz

ellievsbear

Product Placement
Not today Justin

No title available

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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Monterey Bay Aquarium

if i look back, i am lost
Mike Driver
Sweet Seals For You, Always
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@antinoox
Matt photographed by Jake O’Donnell
Passing Strangers (1974) // dir. Arthur J. Bressan, Jr.
Keith Haring and his boyfriend Juan Dubose photographed by Andy Warhol, 1983.
Açúcar União (1988)
Occasional gentle solitude.
Viver é uma bobagem.
Respirar é um trabalho inútil.
Gás carbônico na atmosfera,
oxigênio no sangue.
Viver é essencial.
O que é essencial?
Há uma essência?
Hematose.
Essencial é sentir.
Sentir todas as vibrações do universo.
Viver é uma bobagem,
uma bobagem gostosa.
Viver é inútil.
Mas a inutilidade da vida
é sua essência,
traz todos os caminhos.
Cria labirintos.
Cria pontes.
Destinos e acasos.
Sinapses.
O torpor.
O arder.
Viver é chato,
uma aventura incessante.
Palavras inacabadas.
In the quiet dawn of yearning's endless stretch,
Where shadows dance on dreams' ephemeral edge,
A whisper stirs the soul's uncharted depth,
Unfolding paths that grace alone has wept.
No gilded prize nor fame's elusive snare,
Can mend the ache of longing's tender flare.
We seek, yet know not what our hearts desire,
A phantom wish, an ever-smoldering fire.
Beneath the stars, the silent questions weave,
A tapestry of doubt that none perceive.
In wandering steps through fields of veiled intent,
We trace the echoes of a world half-sent.
Each fleeting joy, a moment's borrowed light,
Leaves in its wake the hollow of the night.
Yet in this void, a seed of truth may grow,
From unseen roots, the tender shoots will show.
The hopeless dream of Being, stark and clear,
Not seeming, but in every moment near.
The gulf between what’s shown and what’s alone,
The vertigo of masks we’ve never known.
To be exposed, seen through, perhaps wiped out,
Each gesture a lie, each smile laced with doubt.
Suicide? No, too vulgar and too plain,
But silence, stillness, a refuge from pain.
Refuse to move, to speak, so lies won’t start,
Shut in, with no more roles to play a part.
Yet reality, diabolical and sly,
Trickles in, forcing truth to defy.
No one asks if it's genuine or sham,
Such concerns fade, even in theatre’s clam.
Understand the silence, the still, the pause,
Admire the apathy that gives you cause.
Go on with this part until it’s played out,
Until it loses interest and doubt.
Then leave it, just as others left behind,
In seeking what we cannot name or find.
For grace is not a thing that can be grasped,
But found in letting go of what we've clasped.
It guides us through the corridors of might,
To places where the soul can find its sight.
The journey's end is not a place defined,
But peace that blooms within a restless mind.
In seeking what we cannot name or see,
We find the grace of simply being free.
Essentia Matutina
Profundo, no átomo imerso
Além do espaço disperso
Manhã, aroma de café
Desafios da vida, o que será
O vapor do café sentir
A vida, um rio a fluir
Resistir, um querer
Deixar ir, é o sofrer
.
Deep, Deep Into Atoms
Out, out of space
Morning there's coffee
Life's problems
steam's coffee
Coffee's steam
Streams life
Resent it
Let it
Life is older than fire.
Viver apesar da dor
Enlouquecer pode ser adormecer e entorpecer
NÃO SEI NÃO SOU FORTE O SUFICIENTE
did i fail to believe in positive thoughts
I wish to be reborn.
I wish I had a different body.
another body. a healthy body
. a body without so much pain.
a body that once had carnal pleasures.
a desirable body
a famous body a valuable body a wealthy body.
Quadro em branco espera, Água morna, suave calma. Mas a apatia domina, E nada mais importa.
Pinceladas lentas, Sem vida, sem emoção. O vazio se expande, E toma conta do coração.
O quadro permanece, Inacabado, sem sentido. A água morna esfria, E a apatia persiste.
Mas talvez um dia, O fogo da paixão reacenda. E o quadro ganhe vida, E a água morna volte a ser quente.
Até lá, a espera continua, E a apatia se faz presente. Mas quem sabe o que o futuro reserva, E o que o tempo trará à mente.
My tears are becoming an ocean