down my rabbit whole

[harleyuninterrupted-blog]

Growing

I was once a seed, planted in the light, and growing in darkness. I was alone, surrounded by caring nurturing blindness. I grew, fragile, vulnerable, and still alone in my thoughts. I was stomped on as a seedling. The nurturing light could do nothing for the brokenness. I continued to grow. Mangled, searching, and alone still. The tree I've become is strong, swaying in the light, and growing from the darkness below. The nurturing nature is forgiven. It did not hurt me. I was hurt by a force of evil, and left to stand alone, growing still. I get angry sometimes, but appreciate what I have been through. Nature will continue to nurture. I will continue to grow!

[acalamityofsilence-deactivated2]

I do not wish to let my soul create a perfect life, wrapped and sealed, safe and sterile. I want my life to be well worn, so when someone picks up my tattered paperback life they will flip through the pages, coffee stained and crumpled, and see a story that was so worth telling it cannot be put down. I want my woes to be their catharsis, and my joys to be their escape. I want someone to hear the echo of my name, smile, amd feel that among indifferent stars it is okay to spend a few decades believing they shine for you alone. I want to live each day like I am writing a story, and I want it to be one I cannot help but read over and over, until my story is peacefully at rest and over.

Perry M. // Life Narrative

[harleyuninterrupted-blog]

Explore Narcissism

When I opened my backdoor this gentle snowy morning a flock of fat birds flew away over the fence. They heavily dropped on the other side. The dogs meandered out tenderly like the snowflakes in the air. Coffee steam swirled with the smoke, and I saw my reflection. They had all adjusted for me in that frozen, still yard. I had wrapped my cardigan tight, tucked my ears in, and I felt great. Gracefully I disturbed the fat birds, I called the dogs in, I brought us in to be warm. That moment was for me, specifically warped in my beautiful mind.

[harleyuninterrupted-blog]

Feeling patriotic?

I sat in my yard, and in front of my eyes were: A blue sky, a red cardinal, and a couple white butterflies.

The Today Show was too loud, but the coffee was strong. So I pondered the holiday, and stared past my lawn.

We’re raisin’ hell, shatterin’ pride. Stuck in this lock down, with nowhere to hide.

Many things boom, everything zooms! Life is immensely fast when we’re distracted from doom.

I love my country, and I also love you. So slow down tomorrow for those red cardinals, white butterflies, and skies oh so blue.

[harleyuninterrupted-blog]

Searching

If I were to lose a hair in the forest, the cosmic consequence would be disastrous. That hair would exist with no connection to where it was from, and no destination. It would flutter for some time, just existing. Purpose would be no issue, for that hair could stand for a hundred years with nothing in mind. A thousand years from now there would be space dust, reminding the universe of this hair. However, twenty minutes from loosing this hair, no sentiment would be shed. A hair is just a fragile bit of us, inconsequential. Only would it be missed, if it had not existed where expected to be. Considering its lack of consequence, the thought of its right to exist is enormous. Have no fear, it would have fulfilled its purpose in existence; the matter of it would only rest in your pondering, and space dust. Only one of these will exist in a million years though, so death only comes to metaphors.

[harleyuninterrupted-blog]

Becoming Plateau

Just a weight to lift itself. Pushing up, and growing down. Sprouting like a tree. Abysmal crevasses, towering heights, sturdy structures. However, no matter the matter of the matter. Every structure shall shamble. Though bits, pieces, and continents slip away; the matter shall exist. Whether you’re weathered to dust, or standing with might. The stars and sun will still burn tonight. Fuss, twist and try, but the time will slip by. You can just be. Forever and eternity. Every dusk, and every dawn. You will exist on.

[harleyuninterrupted-blog]

Exhaustion

I am so annoyed because I am sick. My screen door creaked, and 'shut up' was on the tip of my tongue. The little bits that build up, they are what get you in the end. Hook you without notice, then rip you from the sea. I comb my hair in the shower, it is curly so I have to tame it with oil. I struggle sometimes with particular knots. Plus, I'm sick! So every knot is like a vice on my skull. My brain is hot, my body is cold. Sometimes I just feel like giving up. Let it be bad, let the mess build, let my frustration go! Frustration will grow though, because I am sick. Trust if I give up every aspect will not be dismissed. Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you get help? Why did you just give up? Fuck you motherfucker! All of my worth is based upon shit that does not benefit me. I serve, I comb, I fucking run this sea. The little things hooked me, I'm sick, but I'm me.

[harleyuninterrupted-blog]

Can you feel it?

The need to speak for what you have thought into existence. The senseless meanderings of our minds through our mouths. As you release, they soak it up. To each their own; yours will become theirs. They will change what you saw, effect what you see. You must always remember to reach back. Remind yourself of that wonderful feeling. To think, know, and be right for me.

[harleyuninterrupted-blog]

Thinker Thinking

Because what’s supposed to be there is not, I am a robot. I understand that a thought is a thought, understand and process as so. However when I bend at the elbow, and place it on my knee; I become an empty facade of what is supposed to be. When my thinker thinks I see a stream, hear all of the important words. In the end my mind is blank, innocent, and absurd. Because what’s supposed to be there is not, I am a robot.

[harleyuninterrupted-blog]

Adaption

Does your soul understand pain? If so, I feel sorry for you. Mine doesn't. A stone wall installs between my heart and brain. Choking on the blankness of it. I arrive, and think: Each persons' pain is perceived individually. Their worst memory or thought, that is the bottom. Their black pit, wall, hell. Therefore we cannot understand or compare each other. We can live though. By not hoping their hurt is worse, never treating them less, not thinking ours is scarier. Hollis was stomped on and forgotten as a child. Abbi spent a night getting drunk, watching the man she loved stare out the window; for he had avenged his mother. Riley and his two friends charged one girl, while climbing mountains of guilt and despair. Liza was hunted, left in the woods, and frozen. Ellie ate candy, and never had her babies. Yuri became a risk. But... Hollis will fight to be comfortable. Abbis' lover vanished after capture. Riley is a father, a husband. Liza, found a warm place to sleep. Ellie is having fun planning a bright future. Yuri just graduated college. So, I guess I'm doing fine. I don't want to understand what pain could be.

[harleyuninterrupted-blog]

May you spring into existence. Summit in your summer.

[harleyuninterrupted-blog]

Knowledge Bound Hatred

Pointless arguments. Pointless points. Pointless needs to be a part. Pointless parts. And pointless meaning. Life is Shit. They will miss you. The matter will no longer be a concept. Opinion is not existent, Where existence lacks. Close your eyes. See the tiny floating circle. Feel whole. Watch as your mind obliterates the conscious vision you wish to visualize.

[dennybitte]

the silence in the fog

by Denny Bitte

[harleyuninterrupted-blog]

Isn't it funny?

Everything whirling. Soaking in cold truth. Picking at each twist. A doll of illusion. Happy with nothing. Having everything. Craving an empty soul. To be without. To be within. To have the whirling come to a halt. Everything hoping.

[drxgonfly]

Helens (by Justin Poe)

[historicaltimes]

Destroyer USS Shaw exploding during the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, December 7, 1941

via reddit

[harleyuninterrupted-blog]

The Marionette

I feel lifted. Lighter. A shade of darkness peeled back, as a new light befalls my being. I am change. I am movement. I am being tugged into a predetermined destiny. I feel every pull. I push every whim. My life is a ballet of balance. Exquisite in my fluid motion. I jerk, I wobble, I lie still. My purpose is fulfilled, joy is to be had in my joints. I fall. Splayed messily in a tangle of my own existence. No weight befalling my future. Somehow, I feel lifted still.