LOKÝ YUGen

iamnotyouraveragecolouredbeing...

[leneprinsloo]

#readon

Everybody would like me to be something, And I’m drifting away from everyone, Could you maybe save me? I’m unstable mixed with walking on walls, I just want to be nothing, And walk barefoot, While dancing with the rhythms of the trees, Being synchronized with the wind, I cry myself to sleep every now and than, To celebrate life, I could never understand your sad look, But I guess you already knew you deserve better, Surrounded by laughter and smiles, Deep down I’m just a confused melancholy feeling mixed with a warm explosion of euphoria,

Not sure, But I just jumped down the rabbit hole, Brain all mushed, I know you can’t handle my Vibrations, I’m in a rush,

Running, I’m still in a trance, I don’t like drama, It always felt like a fake force, Ended up in trauma, Flying dragons, While drowning dead situations.

I’m just another Creep. #proudlysouthafrican #poem #poetry #art #artist #theartmustgoon #poetsofinstagram #myart

[iamlokayyugen]

Flight I take.

As I try to get high of the ground, I visualize myself dancing, Not just any type of dance, But it's more likely a crazy dance, It might look easy, But seriously can you back up, Because I'm good, And give some time to get down, Down with my essence, The essence of being happy, Happy? What is that exactly? I'm a Happy person, Even tho the very look of my face expresses a whole lotta of everything at the same time, As I sit down, I try to calm myself down, But all I see over and over, Repeating in my head, Almost purple, Almost blue, Almost burning, More shining, More glowing, Just just white white, Open and open, Thats how it goes, Not from a distance, But infront of me, A Lotus flower, Awakened, Blossom endlessly, As I open my eyes, I can't get out of this trance, Stuck, A vibrant feeling, A light feeling, Who am I? Getting to know yourself allover, I have no choice but to fly. One day I will know who you are little Lotus.

[the-perks-of-being-black]

Cardi B for Fashion Bomb Daily

Photographer: Kat Morgan @icanonlybekat | Art Direction & Hair: Dante Blandshaw @danteblandshaw | Makeup Artist: Hector Espinal @artbyhector | Wardrobe stylist: Atiba Newsome @atibanewsome | Custom Name Plates & Mouth Art (grillz) by @GoldEmperah | Visuals produced by West Rock Studio @westrockstudio (www.westrockstudio.com)

[iamlokayyugen]

Eco over Ego

Child of Tree, don't be destructive to your roots, but keep nurturing them, Child of Peace, don't be deceived by the outer, but get lost in the inner, Child of Sea, don't be hypnotized by the waves of the hypocrites, but be born through the tides of the Son of God, Child of Wind, don't be swept away from shinning lies, but remember sometimes it's better to have less, Child be Free.

[buttonpoetry]

[buttonpoetry]

Porsha Olayiwola, from her poem, “Rekia Boyd”. Support the artist, check out the full poem below.

[blythebaird]

I HAVE RUN OUT OF COMPASSION FOR WOLVES Perhaps this body belongs to the first time I was raped. & I think about how fucked up it is to begin a sentence with “The first time I was raped,” & how when I talk to other women about this, it seems like it’s almost not even if you’ve been assaulted, but when. Women have so much in common, such as loving Zumba! Being interrupted! Experiencing violence! & when another male friend turns out to be a rapist, the same male friend who wore feminism across his chest like a pageant sash, I can’t help but remember meeting him at a sexual violence prevention rally, & the disappointing irony. & when another male friend who identifies as a feminist gives himself permission to make a rape joke & has the nerve to call it reclamatory, as if he doesn’t already harass the girl who jogs by his house every morning to remind her that she is just a woman, just a thing he can exert power over, just a guest in what has always been his world, his streets. Nevermind that your joke just validated the actions of the anonymous predator sitting next to you. Nevermind that your joke just made a survivor across from you relive what was likely the worst thing to ever happen to them. & you scratch your head, wonder why women are so terrified to report, while you shrug your shoulders & make our trauma into your victory lap, the reason you fist-bump your friends over craft beers at the bar. How could I expect this body to be perfect for anything but the punchline? If I do not laugh, I am not longer the cool girl, but the sensitive feminist who can’t take a joke. I have run out of compassion for men who pose as feminists, but the minute a woman brings up the sexual assault epidemic, they suddenly want to talk about something else, something less of a downer. I have run out of compassion for wolves. I have run out of compassion for anyone who isn’t outraged. I ran, and this stubborn body followed. I am the opposite of forgiveness. I am all rage and shriek and flame. Outside of the women’s freshman dormitory at Yale, fraternity pledges chanted: “NO MEANS YES, YES MEANS ANAL, I FUCK DEAD WOMEN, AND FILL THEM WITH MY SEMEN” A woman is found unconscious behind a dumpster, pine needles matted in her hair, naked & wounded & violently attacked by a star Stanford athlete. Meanwhile, everyone is more concerned with how this experience has taken away her assailants appetite, rather than the survivors autonomy. This is not to say all men are hungry. This is not even to say all men are hunting. But haven’t we all found the bones of a woman stuck like leftovers between a full mans teeth? There is a fraternity in Minnesota that paints the stone lions outside their front door the color of the panties of the last girl they raped. You call this rape culture? I call it this morning. Shit, I was catcalled four times on the way here. If my trauma were made into an art museum, the most popular exhibit would showcase portraits of every man who has ever raped me, snarling. The smell of his sweat on my pillowcase follows me to sociology & the whole class can tell most days, I am more victim than I am survivor. In this room, I try to write a poem about anything other than my sexual assault, but all that comes out is my throat and his hands. A few hours before one of my best friends raped me on our college campus, we talked about astral projection. He couldn’t understand why I wanted to experience it so badly. “Why would anyone want to leave their body?” he laughed. & in this moment, we had nothing in the world in common.

I HAVE RUN OUT OF COMPASSION FOR WOLVES, by Blythe Baird (via blythebrooklyn)

[freckledshins]

[mwnslw]

I want this on a shirt

[cruelbby]

i want to get this on a shirt then wear it to school

[worani]

Teespring released a limited edition, you can get your shirts here: http://teespring.com/on-request-tumblr1

The shirts are available until Thursday 

[annenigmatic]

No takers, huh?

That’s cool, I understand. Can’t expect an automatic “community” like I might on other topical blogs.

Because why would you follow me? Who the hell am I? What will you get out of it?

Likely, what you paid for.

BUT! I have stamina! I have had this bloody blog for /five years/. And I’m still here. That’s longer than a term of U.S. presidency. Let it sink in.

I want to: - write about writing - support others through this shit-storm called “living” - communicate with you (why isn’t the ‘ask?’ showing…or is that old school?) - share in the art, process, and torture of combining words in a meaningful way

Maybe…you want to do some of these things, too?

[iamlokayyugen]

l.p

[iamlokayyugen]

GudNiight

[leneprinsloo]

#BeLenéPrinsloo #poadbwg #proudlysouthafrican

[leneprinsloo]

Girl living in the shadows… #BeLenéPrinsloo #xocommunity #xo #proudlysouthafrican #art #myart #paint

[leneprinsloo]

I miss u insane #proudlysouthafrican #BeLenéPrinsloo #imissyou

[leneprinsloo]

The girl living in the shadows #BeLenéPrinsloo #proudlysouthafrican #myart #art #paint

[iamlokayyugen]

l.p

[iamlokayyugen]

Who the fuck cares? .BeLenéPrinsloo

Who the fuck cares? I really don't get the point of me being here no more, Next to the point of no one understanding me, I don't get how I seem to always be the problem, Well if I take a few pills to forget about reality, And a few cuts to numb away everything, To go as deep as to reach my numb spots, And to make so sure that I can't feel you tickling me, And wipe away little me for good, I'm not willing to leave a bit of my dna behind, My behaviour seems to be impolite, As soon as I need you, You seem to dissappear, As soon as I need you, You seem not to care, As soon as I need you, You seem to find a problem with me, Is it just me or am I the only one, Who has a problem with family, Friends and Humans. Pardon me. Sorry for my face, Sorry for being me, Sorry, I beg for forgiveness... Forgive me for rolling around like a stone, I get mad, That's just normal, Nothing will ever define me, I know what you do not know, And I know that you do not want to know, Because it's better to know just what your mind can take, And I will dissappear into the night, Like mist, I'll only be a vivid memory, Of how beauty consists in madness and personal peace, Someone with inner twisted questions, And who feels like jumping of her edge, Just another runaway heart, A lost wanderer, With a soul as destructive and depth as a Nomadic Ocean, Who dances under the cycles of LaLuna, And embraces everything, And she's trying to explain that it's okay to be normal, Because now everyone seems to be acting or trying and role play to be Weird and to be crazy, I'm trying to expose the fake, But they simply will not understand and appreciate The Other... Adapted to this madness, I will take over the world wearing a baggy tshirt, And all who criticise my dirty allstars, Would wanna wear them, As small as I seem, You would never be able to fit this size 1, Who cares? The big question stands, Do you even know how it feels to care, To absolutely dissappear because of a warm and friendly atmosphere... I use to talk to much, Now I'm on silent- I'm like a devoted monk, I don't have time for non curious people, And fools who plan to burn your house because you don't agree on arguing over stupid statements. Right now I have no idea where I'm going with this, It's crazy how I write these days, I think I should just put it all down, Make it really personal, No turning back type of poetry, Freestyling right from the core of the soul, Destroy the worlds message, And appreciate your surroundings... N O R M V L That's my ending... Keep in Mind: I'm a King not a Queen.

[normvlwansta]

NORMVL

“Normal” in the English dictionary is “conforming to a standard, usual, typical or expected”, however, NORMVL is a state of mind and train of thought, based on the contrast and contradiction between what society deems to be “normal” and “weird”, and basically renders the dictionary definitions of said words non-existent, because the “normal” and “weird” of each individual human varies on a small to enormous scale, what’s “normal” to you may not be “normal” to the next person, same principle applies with “weird”. The idea of a set standard of “normal” as defined by society becomes nonsensical and the individual precedes society. The concept also serves as a sort of bridge between the varying semantics and syntax between cultures.

Dude 1: Yo man, don’t you wanna maybe, boil those noodles? Eating them dry’s kinda weird

Dude 2: Actually, I eat them like this all the time, it’s NORMVL.