Curled on the bed, Air is empty but filling, Does he remember?

titsay
Cosimo Galluzzi
DEAR READER

@theartofmadeline
noise dept.
cherry valley forever
NASA

tannertan36
occasionally subtle
taylor price

blake kathryn
One Nice Bug Per Day
đȘŒ

â
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Today's Document

#extradirty

No title available
Mike Driver
todays bird

seen from France

seen from Singapore
seen from Canada

seen from United States
seen from Lithuania
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Netherlands

seen from Malaysia
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States

seen from Singapore
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Japan

seen from Japan
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Indonesia
seen from Russia
seen from United States
@burgermisterhead
Curled on the bed, Air is empty but filling, Does he remember?
She is there sometimes, We donât understand the rules, Sawyer is nice though.
Days moving faster, Total control is too much, Head feels like sleep now
Hats and tops, Beers with hops, Skin revealed, Eyes narrowed, Daily Stories, Wandering territories, Cheers with good friends, Bedtime games like parcheesi, Front and frame, Smile always the same, A picture of a dame, Or a dog in a canyon? Ridge or valley, Sitting on a lake, Or at lunch break, With a sheek new This or that, Are you a snake? Or just a lonely stray cat? My distorted desires, Based on these elevated liars, Are you human? Or a painting? 4 am glowing in my hands a World that doesn't seem to exist. Yet daily I fight vaguely an urge to conform to its checklist. Rhyme rhyme rhyme rhyme-break uneven stanza rhyme rhyme-tease off topic pause every other rhyme whoops messed it up blah blah too obvious metaphor hi I'm the narrator, deep philosophical garbage drawn to setting with mid sentence rhyme leading to long throw double rhyme whatever goodbye
Blood stains on the bathroom floormats, A glass jelly jar filled with cigarette butts, Inside out shorts and a stolen beer glass on the floor, I'm sleeping under a towel And my cat is licking a strange woman's face, I remember blue tokens and a conversation about Tolkien, I remember sexy goth pop stars and dozens of shirtless women, I remember beating myself in air hockey and dragon ball z on a projector screen, I don't remember how I got home but I remember how alive I am and it's amazing.
Three seeds in my hand; I might just plant a tree My hopes and the seasons I see Taken by smoke stacks of reality, Planetary loans, Future foreclosure, Forests on default Rivers in repayment, Love is grown in pastures Lined up in slaughterhouses, I'm running errands on borrowed timed, Plugged into my outlets Live on stream Interstates through phantom fields On my way to the border, One more second is 710 tons Of people living so complacently, But my mindful presence Is the Essence of an accomplice, No bystander alibi Or bargain plea Cave allegory or Ignorant glory, The cycle spins my mind Restless under cover No skyline will save us From the truth of our actions, Three seeds in my hand; I might just plant a tree The horizon is pink and orange If I reach the edge I could live in the margins, I could grow in a new timeline
Sun Ra. Photo by Alton Abraham.
If this rain would never stop And would carry me out of this room I would be okay with that. If I woke up far away On a salty bed of weeds, I would be okay with that, If you were there, Singing to yourself, I would be okay with that.
Sadness from loss can be a beautiful thing in its own way. To think that something in this world could carry so much weight of wealth to cause such emotion.
To realize how important something could actually be to you. On the worst days, Itâs a strangely wonderfully feeling to remember how full you can feel; how vibrant life can be.
Sometimes memory and potential is enough.
I wish I wasnât so vain, I wish I could except the truth, I wish I didnât see these masks, I wish I could see past my own skin, I wish I could except the people who except me, I wish I could be with the people who are the same as me, I wish I didnât chase false flags and mirages, I wish I could take reality into my heart, I wish life was more simple, I wish here and now wasnât a future regret, I wish regrets werenât so easy to forget when the sunsets, I wish my mind didnât trap my actions with betraying motives, I wish I could see that everything I want is in front of me everyday,
Most of all, I wish tomorrow I wouldnât forget all this and start all over again.
I am so sick of people who say things to me
Why are we so materialistic? We want to grab people And fill in the space in our lives with them Like furniture, We want them to fit in To the molds, We want to own everything, Label everything, "You're this, I'm that," "He Should be like this, Why isn't she like that?" I see it in their eyes, So greedy, They have a blueprint Before they even know me, We want to take and take And never to give.
Have you ever been in a building alone at night? An empty presence lingering, But the air grows stiff, And suddenly your eyes freeze, You feel movement around every corner, But the ambience is stark and silent, Every step has an echo, Like a memory is following you, But never catches up, You turn the key and lock up, As you walk across the parking lot, There's a face in a window That you never see.
The Sailor Tokuso and the Sea Monster UmibĆzu, Utagawa Kuniyoshi, 1845
The sweet taste of a slice of clementine bursting in my mouth, The burn in my body after a good afternoon of climbing, The rumble at my feet, exhaust in my nose as I sit on my bike at a light, The warm smile on an artist's face after we've completed a song together, The relaxed soulful conversation after an intimate evening in bed, The smooth texture of a cold beer with good friends late at night, The soft comfort of Sawyer curled up next to me sleeping so innocently, These are the joys of life. Joy is what life is. Joy is purpose enough.
What is real? And what is fake? Is everything in between? A mixture of fallacies Like calico cats Spotted in stories, Constructions of the present and ethereal Am I in the fractures of your dream? Do I exist in your mind As a dream or projection? Who am I really? In the face of your subconscious? The posters on your walls, The ghosts in your halls, Like copper coins falling through the grate, Are you the dropper? Or the catcher? The forgiver? Or the forgetter? The forger? Or the fetcher? Who I am really? In the face of such tenses? Present or thereafter? Am I real? Or fake? I am the sun that rises, The earth on its wobbling tilt, I am the bats at night The birds in the morning, I am the rain on your face, The grass at your feet, I am you I am me I am everything, And I am nothing.
We're born alone, We die alone, But yet we spend our whole lives running from this aloneness, from the inner silence, We force people to be with us, Until that companionship turns into another kind of aloneness, Two lovers in a bed facing away from each other, We're born alone, We die alone, But these facts aren't destiny, They're just a start and a beginning And everything in between is active and moving, Enjoy what you've had, What you do have, And dare to enjoy what you will have, Be thankful for everything past and future, Be you, Be alive, Change. We're born alone, Creating our individuality, We die alone, Solidifying the oneness and uniqueness of everyone's journey and story.