Revolutions

Where Am I

[clearcubedreams]

Listen to the quiet echoes

I hear the cascade of sound and weight

Drags at the pulls I cannot shed tied

Tight to me. It’s flesh that tears and bones

That break.

I’ve seen sweet breaks of peace

The opening thru jellyfish fields

Choose to hear me or don’t

I can hear you but what are you saying?

Are you even talking to me? Craning at keyholes?

[clearcubedreams]

In this universe I’ll grab the gun everytime

Somewhere I find peace in the pull

But it won’t be here

Not yet

But I’ll never stop trying to find this

Something to keep me up above water

And somewhere

I understand there’s no more to give

I’m with you, I felt it too

I pull too

Cool waves roll through my head

And that’s enough to keep me still.

[clearcubedreams]

I’ll never be in love. Which isn’t true or even sane to say or think but I don’t control the temperature and I don’t have a say on the nature of daylight. I’m sad and so are a lot of us all the time and every day we wake up and win the battle to keep breathing. How many times do we have to fight the faceless to stay upright? I look at golden sunsets and I’m grateful for the color as a witness to my breaking apart. How nice of warmth to stop and see me at my home. I must remember the thank you card to light for visiting me.

[clearcubedreams]

\/ /

I remembered you today

And everything was sweet.

Between jack honey whiskey and sex we left whatever we were to tides we were meant for.

Today I’m on the beach, listening to Bon Iver and realizing I never did fact check that story about him in the woods broken hearted writing blood bank. Mostly I don’t care, cause I like the story: but I care a little

Here in the black thank you: I didn’t have to forget what it felt like to feel in the big and you lived there.

I need to fill my mind with solace and peace and wonder, if tears carving valleys taught me anything it’s that someday the valleys will be the Grand Canyon and I can’t care about a thousand years ago

You are relentlessly an insufferable indie lead demanding you were the rain Toto called for. And now there is a place for you in the my memory as an old friend, where I can be happy for you getting fucked in the rose bushes outside our house.

Thank you for the gifts I kept, for riding shotgun, taking off your shoes, stealing that watch, and sleeping on the floor

I feel happiness in me; because of me; and I thank me for that. You were great, but you’ve leading ladied your way out of my story and I’m ready to shine a little from my asshole.

This was my burial, on my time, to the 23 year old that sobbed at forever, by the 32 year old that still sobs at forever. And space.

I like space.

[clearcubedreams]

This is me: reaching out

Radio operators talking over waves of light

The same light bombarding me in waves of so much experience

So much light I’m now the darkness, purged and numb

I can’t feel myself, and I’m afraid I’ve forgotten too much to find my way back.

A compass in echo chambers, where’s magnetic north?

I’ve already drowned; is there a point to swimming back up?

This is me: doubting and being

[clearcubedreams]

From —-/ and ___\

\___\

Me, the author.

Thoughts float and flow through highways and atmospheres. Its the swirls of smoke that touched my blood rising and churning in air currents I couldn’t see before,

It’s the metro train on my routine with familiar smells and peculiar dangers.

Like when people around us stop breathing. And why am I scared when others are about to start breathing for the first time?

And why am I suddenly remembering her eyes? Always bright

Awake, happy, beautiful greens, cool water

I have a freckle in my eye

Green too, set in gold

I know these eyes

Skipping heart beats hammered on the next thought

What if…

*fingers touch*

Familiar has left the station and my anxiety burns on a bullet train track

Where somehow I met you

A peculiar danger

Gold heart and burning blood

New colors in your eyes

We named you Emerald.

[clearcubedreams]

One about a race car, or maybe it was Homer I can’t remember:

—-\

You have freckles in your eyes,

And I remember the bathroom mirror

The steadying grip on porcelain sink

Eyes you know

Moments far and few

You have to run

To be this close and away so long

I won’t ask why: I will stay

And I’ll loose you again

under stars burning through blurry vision

We feel our blood pump together

The cold caress at the bottom of bottles

Laughing at where we are

Misty mornings and Alec Bradley

Companion to consciousness

You appreciate the small things I do for myself

Wouldn’t you like to know the rest of the story?

[clearcubedreams]

It’s started :) muse is humming and I’m ready to come home to where my thoughts stay

hope you guys like this one. if you don’t, an affectionate fuck you

__\

I see you from head to toe.

It’s morning

You have spread over the whole of it

Toes tilted south

Head burrowed

Strong arms below gather clouds to frame that face

Gloved fists hidden in cumulus

To sleep

Over the expanse the sheets churn and crash

I’m standing on the edge captivated

Early light falls and rests on you

You’re gentle and endless

You must know I see you

Like the rest of us

I crash and break into you

Like I did last night

Green eyes directed at me

In the ebb and flow you surge

Waves I can’t predict

A universe I can’t help falling into

Tell me again with your soul

Because I hold the moment I seen you

Once, in an instant, captured

Pure like you sleeping

Wrapped in sheets rippling white

[justapeiceofshit]

-💫

[emanuelee]

xx

[clearcubedreams]

Cool Thoughts

“Creation comes as wanting to give, from the fullness that you sense within you”-  Eckhart Tolle

[an-unconventional-lady]

Cary Grant in The Awful Truth (1937)

[clearcubedreams]

#firstdayproblems

[clearcubedreams]

Are you becoming an internet person? I love it when people join the internet!

[clearcubedreams]

She’s Asleep

[clearcubedreams]

You're an interesting species. An interesting mix. You're capable of such beautiful dreams, and such horrible nightmares. You feel so lost, so cut off, so alone, only you're not. See, in all our searching, the only thing we've found that makes the emptiness bearable, is each other.

 Contact, 1997

[clearcubedreams]

Manifesto

I’ve heard you can’t use ‘I’ in script. 

It’s unprofessional, effectively declaring my credibility as an author moot.

No one asked for me to apply that same sentiment to how I felt about the world, but I guess that’s what I’ve done. 

In an effort to be recognized I’ve echoed, mimicked, and qouted; but, I’ve never had a chance to just have an opinion just becuase I do. 

Cue: Tumblr. I know I’m not a great writer, but I really like to do it. I feel like I have a story that burns in my chest and brings tears to my eyes when I see something beautiful, that resonates just to deep to be nothing but flesh. I burn when I think of compassion, and then I flares at ignorance and hatred. 

Maybe if I let go a little, I’ll be at peace with myself, and I think that’s worth the risk. 

I’m scared, but I’m going to taste ‘I’ in my script, and then Ima taste every other *&$#% flavor in the book.