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[godofsecondbreakfasts]

yall ever lowkey realizing youre literally dating someone who has reached criminally new levels of just astonishing and immature and petty and just be like. oh no.

[missmitchieg]

Guys, reblog this if you love Jason Gideon.

[missmitchieg]

Reblog this if you love David Rossi.

[the-muppet-joker]

Tump dies tonight while giving his speech in the hot hot sun. Like to charge, reblog to cast

[godofsecondbreakfasts]

a little girl i mentored was buried today. kissed the wood of her casket but a few months ago i was kissing her curly red hair and listening to her tell me about the boy she liked and how much she wanted to go to a football game for her birthday. there was a little blonde girl there, back to me, with the same hair texture and length and the same FFA jacket and pants she used to wear sometimes.

saw her standing there from behind and it was evening with the sun across the field. the light happened to hit across the back of that girl. for a second that blonde hair was red. and for a second i thought i saw her again.

[applepieandcupcakess]

when teenage boys are horny no one bats an eyelash but as soon as a teenage girl expresses any sort of sexual desire it’s always “you’re too young” “you’re going to get groomed” “lust is a sin”

[godofsecondbreakfasts]

came to a realization today.

i hate every single sin of my father so easily because with every wrongdoing he commits, a part of my still hears my mother telling me every day 'you're just like you father' anytime I did anything wrong. and every time i see him make my stepmother cry or perceive him as having done something wrong i just subconsciously think 'that's me. that's an echo of who i am. that's how people see me'. and its so easy to hate him so carnally because i see every terrible quality of him as myself. how to i explain that to someone that loves me. how do i explain that as someones daughter. i was raised in a household that villainized you through a comparison to me. i hate myself for it.

[godofsecondbreakfasts]

more of it. a little poem about ai.

They’ve strangled the life from creation. 

And the soul of a millenia dies.

Gone is the need, the craving of expression

The brushes, as obsolete as I. 

Soon, the poets will slip into hiding. 

The musicians will hang themselves silent. 

What need is there for creation born of misery,

When the humanity of art is so pliant?

The paint is lifeless, love, the canvas is dead. The flames will reclaim it sweeter. Set down your brush, rejoice in ease.

Come and celebrate this final frontier.

Let us praise the death of creation. 

Let us rejoice in the lifeless corpse of art.

There’s a rope around the neck of David

And I mourn while Euterpe departs. 

I am weak. I am weary. I am a species soon to die. 

May what my fingers bleed to create 

Live forever longer than I. 

[godofsecondbreakfasts]

more of what ive written in case i mysteriously disappear with the harddrive containing my writings and im never seen again by those who know my birth mother (dream reality).

I could not save you, sweet creature. I am only the existence of man. I cannot rescue you from the cruelness of my kind

In the same way that I cannot rescue myself from

The cruelness of all my species lives to create.

They will not cherish you here, sweet creature. They will never hold you kindly. They will drain your innocence with all evil intent.

You will never be cradled here with half the care and 

God-given love the grasses of your forests do. 

Oh, please, be gone, sweet creature. It’s hardly fair for you to exist with me.

I am the sins of my flesh, you lovely work of God. 

Please, do not make me stare in the face

Everything pure I could have been. 

[godofsecondbreakfasts]

i cant find any kind of real connection anywhere else. I wrote this last night. i hope someday someone will find some of what ive created and love it the way i do. even a little bit. even if its a 13 year old girl who doesnt know why she loves written word so much.

Sometimes I feel as if I’m the only creature on Earth. As if I’m the last daisy to sprout from the cracks of a broken world's pavement. As if there are ghosts of what could have been beautiful companionship constantly teasing me with their existence. I feel as if there is no comfort in the world for me except within my own mind, not a soul alive that is built to decipher the things I live for and the things I’ll someday die for. Is that not the only solace? Is there no darkness at the end of eternity for me to echo back my own comforting love into? That I would take to this. That, I’d live a millenia versus one more year on this planet that was not built to house minds like mine. For a father I villanize for fear of my own likeness. For a mother I weep over the underlying causes of her digressions. For a bloodline that forgives without a thought to lingering misery and a surrounding crowd of people who are the furthest from my own way of thinking as they possibly could be. I am at home within my own soul and my own soul alone, and I have sworn myself to this eternity with the happiest expression. My creation does not touch hearts the way it resonates in mine and never will; for the simple fact that no other heart created it. I feel an animal caged and praised by onlookers who will dissect me with interest and discard my corpse as a case study of excellence. We live in a world that idolizes performance and neglects the purity of creation, and I have been bound to a reality that will never hold another soul exactly mirrored to mine.

I do not love myself. I do not love her. I only wish to comfort her as only I can. As only we can. What is the use of a lifetime of interaction with beautiful differences when I find peace only within myself. I want no arms around me but my own. I want no whispered words of understanding but in my own voice. All others are a lie. There is no understanding in humanity. We find the closest to ourselves we can get, the echo chambers that repeat back to us all we believe, and we call it love. Even if it presents as differences. We click with those most alike to ourselves in at least one deep, intimate way. None will see my art the way I do. None will see my soul the way I do. None will ever be me, and I will never know peace. I am the musings of a madman. I am the romantic embodiment of youth. I am everything, I am eternal, I am nothing at all.  So help me God and the sweet sleep of my grave, I am nothing at all.

[godofsecondbreakfasts]

In honor of pride month

shout out every other American teenager hiding in a republican southern household under disguise. i see you. I am one of you. we must band together like a clan of snails deep in the earth a listen to hozier together as god intended. we ride at dawn.

[lancehadofc]

merry christmas

[godofsecondbreakfasts]

Saw this on my feed and almost died it's so fucking cute I'm gonna throw myself off of a bridge