all of a sudden i miss everyone

blake kathryn

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

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ellievsbear

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Today's Document

JBB: An Artblog!
YOU ARE THE REASON

⁂
taylor price
sheepfilms
Claire Keane
Not today Justin

if i look back, i am lost
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@grindagedelay
all of a sudden i miss everyone
I think of death only with tranquility, as an end. I refuse to let death hamper life. Death must enter life only to define it.
Sartre, No Exit (via studentsofphilosophy)
i, personally, would love to calm down, and yet
My Brain, The Fried
So you’re gone and I’m wondering what you’re going to do With all the time that you put inside a box to accrue When you took it did you feel the weight that it dropped? Hiroshima to your granny and your dear old pops And aren’t you proud now that you stand alone in a field Surrounded by all the things that you could never quite yield? Was it really that hard to swallow the loss Of a shitty little girl who tried to become your boss? Yeah I was there, I felt the teeth, I saw the crashing blood The worlds moved around us when we created the flood Of admiration and pure love that went from me into you You sent your vibes free falling and I caught them in twos They rewrote hamlet cause our love trumped the greats But baby ran away as soon as he heard the steel gates And now he’s shoeless in the bushes and he’s covered in blood Because I’m such a fucking piece of shit that I couldn’t love him enough he left behind the dope decision that we made in a bind To hold our own fucking hands instead of ours entertwined I get the point, I hope you see that I am in certain doubt Cause we’re out lookin while you're chillin' with a gun in your snout And I’m tired cause I been runnin for like seventy days Overexerting for a spirit that has long went away I miss your fucking face and I don’t see why that’s not enough To just catch yourself by the cuff when you’re in a huff To just remind yourself that were all weak and we all need love That standing strong is standing firm and always rising above I can’t believe you up and left your dear old sweet moms I’m holdin on while she weeps deeply into my limp arms I just don’t see how your life was hard enough to say That you just couldn’t stick around for just one more day Your uncle had that baby boy that we been hearing about On the very same day that you shot yourself in the mouth The doctors say we can’t see your face because it isn't there And mamas beating on his chest but he says what’s fair is fair And now were lining maws porch like we did when we lived And everybody is here with all the hugs they can give And paw is sobbing in his chair like a wilting old man Attempting bravery until the crowd goes home in their vans And we ain’t got words to feel and we are fucked in the head And everybody wants to know what was the last thing cam said The girl you had at the time was wailing inside the room I didn’t want to hug her but there was nothing else to do We’re shaking bars of our cages in this prison of dread While you’re spilt into molecules floating above my head I feel you here in the most hurtful types of ways You are the shadows I see when I drive during the days You are the lack of sleep I feel inside of my heart I try to move the fuck on but I cannot really start I know you had this in mind as you were leaving your brain That you could just disappear without leaving a stain I can’t imagine your costs but I’m still paying the price I hope you know that I still love you even though I’m alive
Beats
There are beats in everything. You can hear them if you listen. Some are pounding and obvious, like the sharp click of heels on professional floors, like the ticking of a large clock in a small room. Some are sneaky, they bring forth an innocence, but they line the walls like silent cobwebs. They are your pulse when you feel yourself pump, they are your undying little whispers in the night, what you see when left alone with wandering eyes. These beats cannot be measured. They are not noises, but rather feelings, not a word, but a familiar sound. Live inside those beats, fucking reign over those beats, for as long as I live my life.
I’m clever on paper but I'm lawless in disguise Been fucking with boys that mama told me to despise They grow moss over my bedsheets with trails of their lies Caught em looking at the others with those pretty hazel eyes They throw daggers I should feel, but I’m made of reprise Can’t shake me, or break me, not with these steel thighs And that’s cute, it really is, that I survive all these wars With nothing to show for it but oozing pussy bloody sores I hold fear below wisdom and pride before shame Trying to learn all the rules but I don’t really like the game Socrates in my ear saying “baby don’t fear” He’s the only one who gets it but he’s been dead for years Stinkin up the whole damn planet with his sensible descriptions Of why others can’t complete the mission with their own visions But he ain’t here to feel the fear of the daily grind We stay broken but were chosen so we really don’t mind My fellow ladies smash their babies into living fragile lives Daddy shows them how to cut a bitch with every type of knife I guess I get it, when it comes down to the right way to live But I just don’t understand how we lost the desire to give Got steaks for hands, shrimps for legs, eyes made out of fish Constructed of meat and bone but no desire to live So throw me up upon the Barbie, roast my shit til it burns And as they devour my flesh, try to remember to take turns Cause gettin gluttonous off of Cotie is a mistake to be sure Rotten meat and missing teeth is most certainly not the cure.
#BedTimeStory If you grow up the type of woman men want to look at, You can let them look at you. But do not mistake eyes for hands, Or windows for mirrors. Let them see what a woman looks like. They may not have ever seen one before. If you grow up the type of woman men want to touch, You can let them touch you. Sometimes it is not you they are reaching for. Sometimes it is a bottle, a door, a sandwich, a Pulitzer, another woman – But their hands found you first. Do not mistake yourself for a guardian, or a muse, or a promise, or a victim or a snack. You are a woman – Skin and bones, veins and nerves, hair and sweat You are not made of metaphors, Not apologies, not excuses. If you grow up the type of woman men want to hold, You can let them hold you. All day they practice keeping their bodies upright. Even after all this evolving it still feels unnatural, Still strains the muscles, holds firm the arms and spine. Only some men will want to learn what it feels like to curl themselves into a question mark around you, Admit they don’t have the answers they thought they would by now. Some men will want to hold you like the answer. You are not the answer. You are not the problem. You are not the poem, or the punchline, or the riddle, or the joke. Woman, if you grow up the type of woman men want to love, You can let them love you. Being loved is not the same thing as loving. When you fall in love, It is discovering the ocean after years of puddle jumping. It is realising you have hands. It is reaching for the tightrope after the crowds have all gone home. Do not spend time wondering if you are the type of woman men will hurt. If he leaves you with a car alarm heart. You learn to sing along. It is hard to stop loving the ocean, Even after it’s left you gasping, salty. So forgive yourself for the decisions you’ve made, The ones you still call mistakes when you tuck them in at night, And know this. Know you are the type of woman who is searching for a place to call yours. Let the statues crumble. You have always been the place. You are a woman who can build it yourself. You are born to build. – Sarah Kay
No matter what I do, It seems that I could always use a shower. I’m either covered in glue and permanent marker, Or baking soda and flour. My rhymes are hiding when I bring the pen, But bounding when i shower. I often find myself with tongue on word, But they ain’t got no power. I say so little compared to what I can, I understand heat makes me look like a weak kind of man You can fit my words in an hour, And all sixty minutes would be sour
Every Time I Die- Moor (x)
Life lessons from Clay Puppington
It was a pleasure to burn.
Ray Bradbury (via observando)
I wanna live in the city with no friends or family, I’m gonna look out the window of my colour tv, I want to remember to remember to forget you forgot me, I’m gonna look out the window of my colour tv.
Modest Mouse | A Different City (via carbontetra)
can you believe that there are people on this earth who have never seen this video before
they frenched
so much better than Fifty Shades of Grey
"And you will get your period soon" what the fuck
Struck by being ashamed of your old space Just wanting that mean heat You bleached your hair And you pawned your skis And then you sold out for the shape of the palm tree scene.
Honestly my favorite
I guess time has a way of making everything alright. It’s just there’s not enough of it…
A Celebration Upon Completion- Bright Eyes (via g-raceinyourheart)
Sic Transit Gloria (A Weakness For Goodbyes)
Sic transit Gloria
I have no real explanation for the pain I currently feel. I am ripping myself away from everyone I know and love. It comes now in waves, this vast emptiness, and rocks me. Fuck these pretty words. I’m leaving in three days to move out of state. I don’t think I am coming back. I’ve been doing non profit work, learning other languages, reading every single word I meet, severing rotten ties, all so that I can accomplish my dream. After three years here, I have realized that I can’t finish my dream here.
I have to leave. You are all on drugs. And so I am leaving. But it hurts so much still.
Because I know when I come back, no one will be the same. Life is the ugliest little picture in the whole entire world. I keep looking for the shapes, but the artist is a fucking idiot. In this moment, I love so much. In this moment, I am losing so much. Atlas shrugs, atlas shrugs. Atlas shrugs.
They told me I would do all of these things. They didn’t tell me I would be completely alone when I did them. They don’t tell you that no one fucking understands. They don’t explain that you lose everything, that you fall alone, that you are always the actions you take, but that you’re never the sum of your actions.
I want to know now, how can I ever love anything but myself? I am the only person who experiences what I do, what I have done. I feel like everyone I have ever met is dying, and there is only me left. And I hate myself for survival. I hate myself for this brain, for its constant thoughts, for never giving up, for not lying in my own pit of the dead, as you all now do. I am so fucking tired of kissing everything I love goodbye. You all keep telling me I’m doing so good, but you go home to your beautiful individuals to love them at night, and I go home to myself, and I just gotta fucking wonder sometimes if you know what you’re even talking about at all. This is the last time I will start over. Goodbye to all of this and all of you. I hope to fall in love with all of your characteristics all over again in my next life, where I’ll hopefully be reincarnated as something with less dramatic feelings.
Stupid Lyrical Clouds
Keep saving my life! These songs just explode into existence. They’re brutish and bright and vibrant and gaudy. They pull me from the ashes of my once broken body. They rise from their seats to the smattering applause Of voracious men and women with gusto and cause They’ve stopped to examine the unfortunate few That straggled indoors with torn hands and skin blue They offer no comfort and express their distaste At those who choose action instead of saving face They challenge the children to painful battles of pride They caress and they knead our blistered backside They dance in the light like the shimmering breezes That slip through the docks and cause fishermans sneezes They sleep on the veils of all the dead brides They show up at your funeral before you even die If something goes missing, they won’t look you in the eye! They’re greedy and snotty and distasteful in size And then, just like snow, just like the moon does glisten, They make their full cycle and regain your submission They grow your thick beanstalk that reaches the sky, They save you from the men who tower over you in size They huff and they puff and they order extra fries We stood and moved jaws for all of our lives My lips, they don’t work, they’ve been sadly sacrificed But still the sweet music will not leave my side No matter where I turn, their hot spokes hypnotize They find me in corners where the dog usually lies.