Jules of Nature

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Show & Tell
Sweet Seals For You, Always
YOU ARE THE REASON
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
occasionally subtle
trying on a metaphor

Andulka

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

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todays bird
NASA
Stranger Things
Cosimo Galluzzi

if i look back, i am lost
AnasAbdin
styofa doing anything
Keni
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Netherlands

seen from Germany
seen from China

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Venezuela

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Czechia

seen from Lithuania

seen from Brazil
seen from United States

seen from Canada

seen from Malaysia
@comfortingabstraction
you flash fire just to be charcoal in the wind
The story hits. The news breaks. It's happening. What is? Word of mouth. Telephone starts now. How fast down the line do we get? Who got the message right? Starting over. We cant, the message changed. New game. Wrong information. Baking. Ingredients from abroad. Wait, no, the news. How cruel. How cold. How cool. Watch me. No! Me! Turn it off.
Was it ever real
I'm peeking through windows again. They slide past, full of color and thought and life. Short glimpses into stories I can search out. New adventures for the morning.
People underestimate how much it fucks you up to be subtly excluded as a kid. I would try to talk to my classmates and be met with disinterest or annoyance. The one friend I had, who I clung to and nodded along to his every word, had other friends he liked just as much or more. And his other friends didn’t care for me at all.
I look back at pictures from the time and see how separated I was from them. I remember knowing I was different. I remember posing questions about the world to the girls playing next to me and realizing that they had never asked the same ones to themselves. That the ways we thought couldn’t be more different.
I kept myself amused with my own fanatical stories and musings in my head. I would wander the playground on a circular path, imagining a friend and being sorely disappointed when it didn’t feel as real as I’d hoped.
There was a bubble separating me from everyone else, thin, and nearly invisible, but with a pearly sheen you could catch under the right conditions. I knew it was there, they knew it was there, and it changed me
I wonder why I'm quiet. Why I don't force myself in. Why I don't reach out, the way they always tell you to. Why I don't shout or scream or sing when people are around.
I wonder why I lose my voice. Why it is so hard to talk. Why I can read and write and go through so many words a day that are never aloud.
Then I remember the lonely tables, the safe corners, solo activities. The times assigned pet at recess. The loud environments I couldn't communicate in. The safe spaces barred to me because of rules I never understood. The people, friends and teachers and family, who showed through actions and words that I was undesired and alien and lesser and arrogant and never enough.
Now I wonder why I ever wondered at all.
When do the screams become fading birds?
Do we hear them again?
Do they sing?
I don't know what we could've been
If we were ever anything at all
A hug, a connection, a friend, a something
Nothing at all
I didn't realize it hurt
I didn't know how that felt
Or what I thought it could mean
It almost hurts more
you never wanted me
I don't remember our last conversation
I never knew what to say
You never knew what you wanted from me
The last words I got from you were
Some mash of disappointment
A threat of reputation
Screaming from a stranger that never knew me
I never spoke to you again
You haunted my family
You tore up their hearts
I tried to forget that you existed
I was trying to figure out how to live
With the threat of you doing
Whatever the fuck you decided to
You never knew me
Now you're gone
And the relief I feel is overwhelming
I never knew you
You never wanted me
You do not have to seek out ways to make a change. Change will come to you. Practice being able to meet it when it comes.
Sometimes philosophy is just walking in a circle revisiting the same thoughts and taking similar paths as you attempt to make peace with the road built by others before you
There is too much written down and culturally available knowledge for someone to have a singularly unique and original thought but there are endless variations and combinations. It could be a matter of ethics. Or general creativity. But it's out there.
Humans have been the same for a long time and now we just get to graffiti this strange phantasmal creation instead of the top of a cave.
I recuse myself from this situation because it's stressing me the fuck out