Itâs starting to get dark again in here. In my soul. Shadows are starting to darken with autumn approaching but no one around anymore when I look around Iâm alone. How did this happen when I filled myself with so much stuff and people?
Not today Justin

JBB: An Artblog!
Jules of Nature
đȘŒ
ojovivo
Stranger Things
hello vonnie
todays bird

oozey mess
styofa doing anything

romaâ
RMH

if i look back, i am lost
YOU ARE THE REASON
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$LAYYYTER
we're not kids anymore.

titsay
AnasAbdin
Misplaced Lens Cap
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@crimsoncarcass
Itâs starting to get dark again in here. In my soul. Shadows are starting to darken with autumn approaching but no one around anymore when I look around Iâm alone. How did this happen when I filled myself with so much stuff and people?
Currently looking for breakfast... what should I eat today, hmmm
jameliorate ( joshua_project_2501)
Takato Yamamoto
Dmitry Khramtsov
signum.noir
I love my job, but reblogging employment jelly for someone else I love.
Reality of Asians
These days we forget where we come from Hardship and wire coat hangers, bamboo sticks for music education, the beat still stings like bloodline, can't be beaten out, our history, our people a fob tries to speak the truth, but our grammar is fixed punctuation and perfection was the only savior to our value so bananas try to fit the box for capitalists to pick us out by LinkedIn standards, we falter to white supremacy but believe in none but the American Dream work harder and shall succeed, overworking is a cultural scheme, the last of what we kept when we whitewashed our families, Daisy, Chelsea and Sarah is my name now in 3rd grade my classmates bellow at parents, change to Lunchables from Kimchi, garlic and onions, we stink we hear from other classes, but she's not in ESL, Gifted child, her dad's a doctor but this one's poor, this one can't count, who is she? two straws for chopsticks instead of a fork the white teachers make fun of you, so you change your name to Michael, Jake, and John, family name? don't ask my shame Mathway is my hobby, MIT, Stanford, Duke and anywhere white We have to make money to support our families, we succeed But half of us don't feel cool so we speak AAVE and put blonde in our hair, to Americanize, to friendly our uptight stereotype But we stand with no one, not Black, Brown or Asian, we think we're white now with our computer science degrees, we act accordingly and forget they don't like us, forget our elders wearing sandals in winter, spring and autumn, called Bat eaters, spilled with oil and crimson crimes for Nigahiga and Rich Chigga couldn't save us from being racist or been racist against, Covid-19 showed only what's been there, since before your name change, your posts to appropriate Mac'n'cheese ramen, the invention of White modification to less spice our food, to oil our food more, to rid of more rice, to forget our ancestory, and pride for where we came from and who we were, but I know and I fight for those who have forgotten, that math skills and red-pen grammar can't save us from them, that we're still among the hated, and need to stand among the hated, to fight for freedom, for those who see like us, for those with history to come here for life, life we didn't want to leave behind but had no choice in many ways for another
Yoshitaka AmanoÂ
It's not your fault (May 29 2019)
Please if this ever happens you had no fault or responsibility
for my ending or beginnings
"had you known, had you some credibility"
no. Your kindness has been more
but sadly my life, my work, has been art
that I couldn't tame or adore
like a daughter that was falling apart
in front of a father who wanted not a son or a whore
my life only disappointed me
I have no more space in my heart for you
or think of how much more I have to see
tomorrow, I don't even want it to come
so please its not that you didn't notice
but that I merely couldn't''t appreciate you
enough
Repression: Introvert
Open your eyes
Open your mouth
Open your nose
Open everything and inhale your voice
Every sound you make back into your lungs
Hold it. Like a cigarette could.
The complaints that youâve made
The mourning you hold inside
The justice you demand behind hold back
on your face that its handprints force you to smile
Customer service, to a friend you shouldnât need
But truth is, weâre all customers in line
That want blossoms and cherries,
but not the whole tree
Pink as the trees that springtime brings us
My face fluster pink, not red yet
But itâs not bliss or glee behind the blood
Itâs disappointment that my secrets will never reach, such a person like you
@crimsoncarcass â Follow my poetry blog!!
@crimsoncarcass
âYou shouldnât pressure yourself like that.â
âbut how would I be able to keep going without pressuring myself, what would move me forward, push me better, push me to actually work
âGin that kind of thinking is going to ruin you.â
âI already am. Havenât you noticed?
âYouâre going to kill yourself like that.â
âI know. And I will.
âThereâs no way to win against you, is there?â
â Iâve been having that same problem all my life.
âWhy canât you just ask for help?â
â I have to do it myself. What else am I going to be able to do if I canât even do this myself.
âIâm going to live all by myself in life.â I told her.
I told her Iâm going to have to do things all by myself one day, that everyoneâs going to leave me, and when that happens I canât ask anyone for helpâ thatâs why I have to do it all alone.
Thatâs why I canât let her in. Thatâs why I canât let anyone in. Thatâs why I fall in love and only date people I donât care about, thatâs why I see everyone disposable because I think Iâm disposable. Because the most important people in my life has shown me and proved me disposable and because those people are the only ones who can matter to me enough to change my mind , and they wonât. They wonât ever come back, or be the people I loved because Iâm left behind and Iâm disposed and because Iâm worthless to a worthy person to them. Iâm half made, half determined, half confidence, and halfway not there, and halfway through everything. It doesnât matter how you look at the glass anymore because the fact is that itâs not even near full, and itâs not even near empty. Itâs neither, itâs always halfway, and itâs never ever enough for anything.
So I give up.
I give up on everything.
Because itâs all going to be halfway either way. Why care? Why love? Why have a passion when even your best canât move you into anything but solitude and loneliness.
Itâs going to destroy me.
And Iâd rather destroy myself before I see something I used to love turn against me like that anymore.
No more. Not anymore.
@crimsoncarcass we need to title this later â
When all lights are out
What planet would still
Align the universe straight
If not balanced and mindful
Filled with hopeful knowledge
Would we able to survive
Such a jungle better than
Structures of cement; privacy
and security concerns is
Little of a concern when there
Is still light in your eyes to
Look up and see not stars but
A universe, some of the dead
But a poetâs reflection in such
Rosewater scented steps
Meaning, the sky, the water,
Air of nature, what will be you
Be without all of this around
Your neck, a noose it almost
Looks like to those uncursed.
Roach
There was something very intriguing about the living object: long thin lengths moved up and down, and sideways, it had a shiny and hard looking back and multiple angled thin fragile looking legs with soft hair lining the edges. To the boy in kindergarten, it was a something called a âbugâ and nothing more. He had seen ones similar to the one in front of his nose but he felt todayâs find was extremely rare. He had quickly left and run back with a jar to this kitchen counter where it quietly sat moving its long thin lengths, Breathing in, he quickly slammed down the jar. It ran quickly out of range but with one more slam the boy miraculously caught it inside.
âTommy?â His motherâs voice called from afar.
He didnât reply.Â
Concentrating with sweating tiny palms, he carefully slid a piece of paper under the jar and covered the jar, tipping the covered jar upright with a quick move (the insect fell from the sudden change if gravity here), he quickly replaced the paper with the lid of the jar. âTommy!â His motherâs voice was very close to where he was, with panic he quickly hid the jar under a random cabinet within his reach. âTommy, what are you dong?â His mother, a giant about ten times larger than Tommyâs size, walked into the kitchen.
âNothingâŠâ he lied.
âWell--â and his mother blabbed many words that he didnât pay too much attention to as she took his hand and led him away from the kitchen.
Joseba Alexander
Justin O'Neal
Anwita Citriya