
#extradirty
AnasAbdin
we're not kids anymore.
One Nice Bug Per Day

JBB: An Artblog!

tannertan36
Mike Driver
Three Goblin Art
noise dept.
No title available
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

No title available

PR's Tumblrdome
Today's Document
Misplaced Lens Cap

No title available
trying on a metaphor
Xuebing Du
tumblr dot com
Cosimo Galluzzi
seen from Japan
seen from Germany
seen from Italy

seen from Belgium
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Ukraine

seen from T1

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Ireland
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from China

seen from Ireland

seen from Malaysia

seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from Italy
@deconstructs
thoughts to myself today
the girl fights the dragon... i watch and do nothing. i saw your face for the first time in months, you look thin.
his name is a band of iron around my wrists, and i love the weight. give me responsibility draw my blood. i couldn’t ever really love you. it was all clinking locks around our throats and downy spines... but maybe i can love him.
=_=
i don't know if i'm going to make it out of this alive. this sullen twenty something point in my life two years ago i'd say probably not, but for different reasons (think shades of suicide notes and empty pinot griot bottles overflowing every corner hidden in my room) but i was a writer for real back then. and had a boy who i tried to love as best i could. i am in a much more dangerous place now (somehow) here's a word problem for it: there are 2 people living in 1 apartment. 36 spoons were in the kitchen drawer all disappear within 1 week. 1 roommate buys 36 more that go missing. the other roommate is at a loss for words at a loss for heart. (you’re my best friend my boy)...
looking back on it now, the i shouldn't have stopped my drinking. it was so much safer than the alternatives i've replaced it with. but as Vonnegut said so brilliantly..
so it goes....
do you know what happened to Juno and his blog?
nah, i just no it no longer exists....but i miss it everyday if i’m honest...nobody pushed me harder or inspired me more with my writing....
confessions i’ll make today..
i tripped the wire and felt my balance fall to the blast of the bombs. i cant trust my back to anyone. always anticipating the bite of the knife that might plunge. i am scared of how it would feel to have my muscles split apart. i am scared of a lot of things because i don’t know they mean. the heavy importance of the pill i’ve just ate of the names i’ve forgot of the prayers i’ve never meant (of the lies i’ve let slip in a kiss). maybe heaven actually is just my kitchen sink overflowing with empty bottles of gin. how plain that truth looks.
I saw your last post and even though we don't know each other I wanted you to know that I'm thinking of you, wishing that the pain will lesson even the tiniest bit, and hoping that you have people supporting you.
i'm so at a loss for words at how grateful i am you sent me something genuinely kind, even though you don't know me. even more so because i'm reading it now when it's after 4 am, at that time of night when weights of the world seem weightier and those that are sleeping are doing so heavily. and anyone still awake will be pulling on their winter coats and getting ready to leave the party. in other words, it's easy to feel alone at 4 am, let alone when you're already truly alone in your dads basement. but finding something like your words of encouragement to come across now...just thank you so much for sending them. i'm crying from gratitude with how much i appreciate the support.
thank you for your lovely words, you have such a lovely heart.
ok, i'm going to tell you what happened now
it's been a week since my best friend in the world, Michael, and our friend London who he was with, both overdosed on heroin and died.
i can't handle writing the the words "died" or "dead" in conjunction with Michael. i cannot begin to quantify how lost i am. or how alone i feel. i've been living every day with depression for 12 years and let me tell you something, in all those days and years i have never tasted anything close to the kind of sadness i have now in every waking moment. i can't do it. i've spent my life having to live through every kind of pain but none have hurt like this does
michael pace #4
i.
can't even go so far as to split my lip! without immediately thinking of you. i called you just to hear the that message you recorded kick on again.
I would have called some prayers if they were still around... but it's been a long time since the Seventies. and the dead of silence or digital brushoff of voicemail is all i can find...
ii.
my forgotten cosmonaut! my beloved day dreamer! i took the meat of your body and bread of your bones they turned to ash and with my little palms i scattered you from Miranda, from Sao, Neso, Despina, and Phoebe. crying like a fire the whole time i held you, wishing fate would have been kinder that our home still existed in that heart of an apartment, the only place we both felt safe. but it's been gone for a long time.
iii.
i pull the wine between my lips and think of Jesus think of Pontius think of Able think I Can't. i can't push on living, moving away from the point where you stopped... i won't look forward for anything because i can't stop looking back at you waving and smiling "sayonara" shrinking littler and littler with passing time eventually you are just a dot on the horizon behind me. and of course this is when i start crying, and my tears smear you into everything else and so i cry harder because i've lost you for good
#3 for michael pace
let me clear my throat and try this again. what makes a tyrant and what makes a refugee? what makes an addict? and which ones become the casualties that fall thru the cracks? i could ask you precious friend, but i know you can't be heard by a heart still beating or by our ears' yearning. i could whisper my truths to you, but most we've already brought up and discussed. and besides i know you heard me the first time, when you were still here, still living. the truth is, there's always a morning crashing on my window, but you're going to stay sleeping and that's reality being unforgiving. but if i sing loudly maybe you'll catch the melody and be listening... please know i'll never let you slip into nothing, you're my Third Eye, the Lighthouse shining furiously, hoarsely screaming "keep fighting!"
#3 for michael pace
its card games they want to play i fight against this of course (you're too freshly gone, & the table would be too quiet). harder than the hadron collider's force is trying to live life knowing you're lost to woods for good this time. a strong soul might shake it, pull through even grow from it. but you know me and know i'm not of that nature. i'll just write and write and dream about it. like Your strength was biblical. but aseop wrote your failures how could i reverse that lever of fate? the best die young and i'm sorry but my bones will sing that motto for the rest of my life.
for michael pace #2
white lighters are a new belief system my brain is struggling to learn. if orion was in the atmosphere tonight i could maybe stomach feeling my lonely bones
There is a new soul out there you're stretching into just now. Did Siddhartha speak the truth? was the white light beautiful? so beautiful it hurt? those claws of suffering that dug into you, were you able to shake them loose? in my heart of hearts i hear that it's okay. it's safe now, you're fine.
it's my mind that i can't seem to get right. please just be listening be conscious of my talking when i say your name softly after every midnight.
...jesus i rly did neglect my writing and tumblr
i don't know if anyone still remembers me or this blog. no really i feel pretty certain that both my current & old followers either think i finally died or have no idea i exist in first place... idk if there's anyone i know still in the tumblr writing community...
BUT
it's my fault for spending over a year growing quieter and quieter towards everyone in my life. the distance that has grown between me and my family, friends, or otherwise is almost too big to come back from. and i haven't touched anything to do with creativity since last winter. because it hurt too much to try and find words if there aren't any. or try and draw a vision that never ends up coming.
with all that being said, i've returned to try and find the voice i wrote with and lost ... just, look, i'm back. if anyone is left, i'm back. and for the everyone that doesn't know me, i'm nico and that's enough.
the cobwebs
give me slices of light on the river water give me hometown fury give me unflinching fate. it's better than the point of nothing which is where i stand these days. and i'm flushed with purposefulness from a variety of alcohol i've drank and the cards i've played. the death valley of my throat i'm clearing, i'm finding my voice again, and i can only hope i find someone that will listen to care about the words that i've written
Hey sorry, would you mind tagging your writing that has self harm in it? Just with like "self harm" or "self harm tw" or something, thx. Have a good day ❤
i'm sorry for the late reply, and i'm even more sorry for my lack of sensitivity with the tagging of my posts. i really didn't mean to hurt anyone intentionally, or leave out those tags. forgive me?
i'm little-spoon nicole, saying i will cure it all
hush, listen my love
to all this lack of sound
honest when i say
i will be your good in the world
lay your troubled head on my chest
pillow of bones and cages
arms wrapped in arms
i will whisper into your hair
breathe, darling baby
here, follow me
slow inhale slow exhale
setting the pace, keeping
the steady time.
and far away somewhere beneathe
there will always be
my heartbeat to
lull you into
sleep
living the dream
I watched this episode they had like a truck full of potatoes and dumped them down a hill and said that’s how many potatoes you consume in a year and she cried and then ran inside and ate more cheesy potatoes.
you fell in love with an ocean and she fell in love with you.
seas that love seas cannot work. because you are deep ocean trenches, the dark miseries of a man. &she the warms and cools of ocean currents, lifeblood of food chains and promise, will never stay