my dad and i drew that with charcoals and pastels when i was ten; itās my favorite thing

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Origami Around
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Not today Justin
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if i look back, i am lost

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@i-am-basically-a-tree
my dad and i drew that with charcoals and pastels when i was ten; itās my favorite thing
God is another name for human intelligence, raised above all error and imperfection, and extended to all possible truths
William E. Channing, Humanityās Likeness To God (1828)
cover of slug by snail mail
i wanted to introduce myself more personally on here but i get awkward on camera so this felt easier. when i was a kid i loved singing but i was time def and people would ask me to stop. so i practiced a lot and i think iāve at least come a long way!
bath: hot
beer: cold
candles: lit
animals: crossing
time to fucking party
Let me sit in a flower pot, the spiders wonāt notice. My heart is a stopped geranium
Sylvia Plath, 1959 (via very-serious-nonsense)
Iām one of those perfectionists that really just wants to nail it on the first try so instead I just do fucking nothing and completely plateau as a person.
I like to sit down by the sea and watch the water birds flock along the coast. Everyone has got their own hustle; the skimmers skim their beaks across the stills and snap closed on Prometheaen fish. The divers, a bit more picky, breach the surface to select their fish Pacifically. Mustnāt they be swallowing an awful lot of sea water? Iāll admit Iāve slipped myself and surely wound up with an awful seasickness. Suppose those fish must be mighty tasty to put up with all that.
The birds in the fields have it a little better, but they donāt get to eat those tasty fish so it evens out, I guess. They have to eat those filthy worms and buzzing insects. Well, besides those that were fed up with eating crawlers and turned to cannibalism. I canāt say I agree with their tactics even though they have their reasons. If you ask me theyāre cowards, but thatās how things go I suppose: power produced by fear. As if that were the only way to be powerful. I bow to the warbler who persists.
I just want to be someoneās favorite blog
Soft Grunge Romance Playlist
Love Is All - The Tallest Man On Earth
Birds Donāt Sing - TV Girl
When Iām With You - Best Coast
Green Eyes - Wavves
Fool - Frankie Cosmos
Weird Honey - Elvis Depressedly
Shit Twins - Dads
Drunk Text Romance - Cyberbully Mom Club
Be Your Own 3am - Adult Mom
You Were A House On Fire - Listener
smoke dances ballet
in the sunās early spotlight
step intricate step
billow up and up, twirling
with enticing grace, whirling
e.r.
You asked me why do we taste
Itās atoms, man
Different sugars
Breaks down a whole bunch
Neutrons Protons Electrons
String Theory
Explain the Universe
One guy was like
& everyone was like āooohā
But wait, it breaks down
Thatās the moral of the story
So it breaks down so much
& you canāt find the end
Any questions?
Why is the sky blue?
How do you get to the atoms,
Thatās what I canāt remember
This is my conclusion:
Anything will break down Ā
To the smallest possible thing
String theory, it breaks down
So much, anything is anything
Everything is random
And nothing matters
e.r.
Hot coco steaming
before a warming fire
then from pink to pink
steamy now on once cold toes
a cozy catastrophe
e.r.
The Monster Under My Bed
Mom tells me that the monster under my bed doesnāt exist. I tell her that while sheās checking for it, it slinks into the closet. She checks the closet, but itās back under the bed; itās rather quick and clever. When I was younger mom and dad let me sleep in their bed, but now they say Iām too old and I need to learn to be brave. I tell them that I climbed to the tallest tree on the playground for a dare; I am brave. Mom clicks off the lights and closes the door. Itās just me and the monster now. Most nights start the same: fell quiet. Sheās waiting for me to let my guard down, but I know better. I tuck my the blanket beneath my feet and roll into a burrito. Sheās not allowed to breach the blanket forcefield so my only weakness is the hiding hole around my mouth to breath through. The quiet is tainted by an unholy scratching sound from beneath the bed; sheās taunting me. She wants me to jump up and turn the lights on. I know better, but itās tempting. If I could reach the light first she becomes trapped in the shadows and Iām safe until sunrise. Itās risky, so I hold my ground. The closet door creaks, only so slightly that I could have been a draft. Sleeping is an option, but itās risky. If I toss and turn I risk diminishing the forcefield and then Iād be an easy target. Thatās how I first met the monster; my feet were all but covered and I awoke to her nibbling on my toes. I quick pulled them under the covers before she she knew Iād awoken. That was her first and last taste, and ever since sheās got a craving. I wonder if she ever visits my parents rooms or if they have their own monster to deal with. Probably not, or else I bet they would both be in my room fighting over the easy target. In my thoughts Iām on the playground and all the kids are cheering for me. Iāve climbed down from the tree and my crush Katie kisses me on the cheek. That last part didnāt really happen, but it helps to think about happy things. They distract growling at the foot of my bed. When Iāve exhausted my bank of happy thoughts the monster fills the space. I can feel her looming over me; breathing - staring. I wonder if she has finally discovered a way to break the barrier, but I call her bluff and wait it out. She slinks back into the closet to regroup. Itās quiet again. I feign going for the light and the closet door flings open; it was a trap. She wily but I am not the fool. I snuggle back into my burrito with a chuckle. Iāve won the battle, but morning is hours away. The quiet returns. I feel myself nodding off but there isnāt much to be done to stay awake; I canāt exactly get up and do jumping jacks. I use my fingers to pry my eyelids open but even this is hardly successful. Itās time to weigh the risks of sleeping versus racing for the light. Iāve theorized that the monster reads my thoughts, though I have no proof for this yet. If Iām right, then going for the lights is impossible. Sheād be ready for me. Even if Iām wrong itās unlikely Iād beat her there. Sleeping then is safest, so I curl my knees into my chest and wrap my burrito as tightly as I might. Suddenly a new noise breaks the silence. Itās coming from outside near the window. A new monster searching for a home, perhaps? I freeze. I hear the window rattle a bit before slowly sliding up. The floor sets off a creaky alarm, and then another. A tall dark figure blocks the starlight pouring through the window. Thereās an uneasy rustling from under the bed. This could be my chance while the two monsters size each other up. Once more I imagine myself atop the tallest tree and from the memory channel courage. A wicked growl freezes the room and melts that courage down into fear. The newcomer takes a daring step forward, and another. A hard bump from under the bed shakes the lead from my legs and I feel myself going for the lights. An unholy scream fills the air and for a moment Iām afraid itās coming from me. Itās isnāt. Light fills the room and I drop to my knees in tears. Iām safe. I turn to see nothing but a bloody pair of boots near an open window. Itās quiet.
bitter wind biting
crash against cold noses
sinister howling
cold tundra snicker snicker
Dante reduced to shivers
e.r.
Ask for the reason
An insufficient answer
Insufficient god
A necessary being
Being unnecessary
e.r.
cold under the stars
purse my lips blow a bubble
pop - wait, pop again
a song echoed off the trees
and I retreat to humbled knees
e.r.
Dinah, chapter 1
When asked the average human would certainly inform you that animals cannot speak. This is a rather narrow and ignorant view of things, and frankly if you asked just about any animal they would inform you that most humans are rather narcissistic. The truth is that most animals choose not to speak to humans, and if youāve ever met a human then you could probably venture a guess as to why that is. The ironic part of this common discussion is that most humans only speak one language, and the more learned ones maybe one or two extra; all of these are of course human languages. Animals, on the other hand, speak the languages of all their neighbors, and of the trees and the wind, and some even of the water. This is something that most humans cannot understand. The term āmostā here is used to imply that even today there are those humans who have broken through this barrier their ancestors have built them and re-emerged into the natural order of things.
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