get in the water @arishines - Tumblr Blog

11-10-16

Here I am Cloaked in grief Seething with hopelessness and anger Sadness and despair

I whisper in my own ear Be the light Find a match and a still corner Cultivate the flame Feel the warmth grow stronger and spread

We need an attitude adjustment We need to open our eyes The people around us are our brothers and sisters We are all struggling And so alone

Reach out with your fingertips See if you can touch me through the electric blue screen that holds your eyes

I am cold, but we can be warm together If we just get under the same blanket And share our secrets

You are invited to dinner at my house Anytime you want I’ll give you everything I have And I will show you something beautiful Look in the mirror

Give me a pen And I will tell you a story That travels up your arm It’s the story of your home next to mine And how we hold onto each other So we will not be swept out to sea

These moments where you are warm next to my fire That’s the purpose of my life To make you feel welcome and safe To show you that you are loved and beautiful And to know that there is enough For all of us

If we don’t share There is too much waste So let’s eat our abundance And go to sleep Full of love Warm and safe And never lovely

#poetry #grief #prose #trump #hope #love #pain #ad2016 #future #peace

11-6-16

You know, I read a book once And it told me how to live Cheap and easy It told me not to work so hard And to live with less To be curious about the world and how it worked And to learn for the sake of learning

It took me 10 years to figure out how to do this So many say, yes yes yes!!! and no no wrong!!

But then, I figured it out. That feeling I wanted The certainty of a whole heart The one I wished and prayed for The one I looked around for everywhere It’s mine to manufacture I could love myself I could make myself feel worthy I could say just the right words to light my own fire And then I realized what I had to do

I can’t be what you want and be what I want at the same time I have to choose So I choose me

I’m not trying to impress you I’m trying to do whatever I want To show up and be vulnerable I’m trying to let you see me in a real way Without excuses or modifications Because it feels so powerful to be afraid And make an offering anyway To show the doubt and the sorrow and the joy and the pain together

Because you know what happens When everyone pretends that everything is fine, just great? We feel like we are the only one who is struggling The only one who isn’t good enough Or rich enough or smart enough or beautiful enough And we forget to reach out And touch the tips of our fingers together and to say, “Yes, me too.”

This is how we make our broken hearts whole again

#poetry #poemoftheday #prose #ad2016 #writing #journal

An Incomplete List of Fears

I’m afraid I can’t see how fucked up I really am.

I’m afraid I will never amount to anything.

I’m afraid everyone hates me.

I’m afraid I’m not special.

I’m afraid I’m lazy.

I’m afraid I will always be poor.

I’m afraid T will die.

I’m afraid I have cancer.

I’m afraid someone will come and take it all away.

I’m afraid I’m not a good pet parent.

I’m afraid I’m wasting my life.

I’m afraid I’m ugly.

I’m afraid I’m not talented.

I’m afraid I will get fatter.

I’m afraid all my teeth will fall out.

I’m afraid I’m an addict.

I’m afraid I’m going to do something wrong.

I’m afraid I’m too insecure.

I’m afraid to eat.

I’m afraid to spend money.

I’m afraid I will never be enough.

I’m afraid I will turn into my dad, depressed and resigned.

I’m afraid I am not a good enough person.

I’m afraid I am inadequate.

I’m afraid I have unreasonable expectations for myself.

#journal #daily diary #writing #lists #fears #ad2016

I had some ideas yesterday. Here are some of them:

1. Conversation Piece: Make a recording talking to me for an hour. I’ll make a recording talking to you for an hour. We will bury it in a time capsule and let the future have the first listen.

2. Post on everything everyday. Keep making. Keep making yourself vulnerable.

3. Start a daily vlog, but in words on tumblr. It’s a journal, but more present. More immediate. Tell your story. Invoke the magical side of everyday mundanity.

4. Take photos all the time. Don’t try so hard to “MAKE A FANCY THING”. Follow your interests. Your intuition. Keep reading. Keep writing. Keep making.

5. I want to tell you everything. Find the right receptacle for the right words.

6. Figure out a way to make people feel loved.

7. What is it to have intimate contact, spirit to spirit with someone else, but without real interaction?

8. Document the process of trying to figure out how to make everyone feel loved and worthy.

9. Post the little bits of wisdom I am trying to teach myself.

10. I drank too much coffee and I should probably get ready and eat something before I leave for work.

11. Don’t punish yourself.

#art #artist #conceptual art #journal #visual art #writing #prose

Conversation piece

You record yourself talking to me for an hour. I record myself talking to you for an hour. We put it in a time capsule and bury it. The future gets first listen.

#conceptualart #art #writing #ad2016

Day #1

The backseat was covered in cool black leather, but was not luxurious. The leather was thick and hard, almost like vinyl, and stuck to the skin of her thighs. This kind of leather was cold in the winter and burning hot in the summer, and almost always made its presence known in the form of an uncomfortable introductory period when you sat down, until it finally equalized to body temperature. The smell was that of an old car, the tinny musk of another time, an unknown history, and old upholstery. On the floor by her feet was a folded straw wrapper, thrown back during a hasty transaction at a drive through window. She could see the cold light of an afternoon in late November drifting across the dashboard in the front seat. The dash was dusty, and small particles floated in a shaft of light. The cold air outside made its way through the door seal and penetrated the car despite the continual huff of the overworked heater. She eyed the gearshift between the front seats. The bulbous handle, smooth and soft from years underneath the firm grip of his hand. In the seatback pocket before her, some old maps, forgotten like the straw wrapper. Essential for a time and then discarded; forgotten. She rubbed her toes against her socks inside her shoes and fingered the fabric of her skirt, then felt the softness of her cheek against the back of her hand. She leaned her forehead against the cold glass of the window and made a pool of fog with her breath, and watched it undulate as she inhaled and exhaled again.

#dailythemes #writing #prose #ad2016

10-31-16

I’m laying in bed with a puppy curled up, sleeping next to me.

My legs are cold and there is a lump in my throat solid, like a turtle on a rock

I got a stack of books at the library And I hope I read them I think of all the books and magazines I haven’t read yet Each one a failure. And I think about all the books I have read Proof of a younger, better me

I am never enough Though I know that’s impossible.

At night I dream of wild cities far way, on a different plane of existence from here I am trying so hard to find my way to escape to meet someone to accomplish some task

but it’s never done

I never make it I wake up Confused Trying to make sense of it Trying to remember what it looked like What happened The sequence of events The characters introduced

What does it all mean? We make meaning. We manufacture it every day. What do you wish your meaning could be?

I feel I need to prove my worth To justify all the sacrifices that were made for me To pay back the cosmic debt of my existence But what if I can’t? No one is going to take me back to the store And hope for a refund

My arms are cold The days are getting darker

Last year I was a different person than I am now. About to embark on a painful journey That leads to this blissful life I sometimes fail to enjoy Because I lose my sense of worthiness

But it’s all here. The love. There is so much love. The time. The space to create. The low overhead and the coffee.

Girl. This is what you wanted! To be able to do anything you want. To learn what you want. To write whatever you want and live a life of freedom. Money and fame were never the goal.

But I do miss sometimes, that look of pride in her eye. Mom was so certain that everything was going to work out great. I miss fancy cheese and regular flights across the Atlantic. The romance of existing in a different country. Good pastries.

Instead I have love. And time. And improved cooking skills. A thousand television shows and a nice big cock to ride. Things could be much worse.

#ad2016 #poetry #poem

8-14-16

Today it is hot and you are at work Clocking time and listening to reggae Here I am, so devoted, to you, to me

I imagine we live in a posh neighborhood in Buenos Aires You at the bar on the corner and me writing you love poems from the terrace of a old house that used to be so beautiful or even better an abandoned building that we have made our home

We have nothing but that is exactly what we need to be our best selves

We spend your tips on paint and ramen and beer and smoke You spend all night writing poetry on my body in black marker and accidentally burning me with your cigarettes

We are star lovers, never cross Because you are silly and you sing and dance and make me laugh

We are bright spirits our love cultivates love

We ran away together to create a world and enclose ourselves in it safe harbor

We know it’s not allowed But if we run into trouble, we also know That any day we could run into the woods and build a cabin that no one can find We will make friends with the squirrels Drink fir tip tea and eat bark if we have to and we will be happy forever Because you are the song my soul wants to sing.

#poetry #love poems #ad2016