Nothing is ever simple... @joerawnsley23 - Tumblr Blog

The deep, delicious delight of a well-made Gyros

I take a huge amount of enjoyment from biting down into a soft and relenting pita bread that is crammed with hot, spiced and thinly sliced chicken. A smooth, creamy and refreshing tzatziki dribbles onto my lips. Then, the symphony continues with the contrasting cool red onion and juicy, ripe tomato. The sauce, that is always signature, offers piques of chilli and a soft heat that warms as it enrobes. And then the fries. Oh how we love fries. They are generously speckled with paprika and salt. They are simultaneously crispy and pillow soft. The whole cast blends together with a hot and cold punch of flavour and texture that ignites the tastebuds and leaves me satisfied to the utmost degree. Oh I love Gyros.

Why do you always write pathetic, shitty, self-absorbed, self-pitying rubbish about how you're an abused fool in love? - Because telling you hasn't worked.

-

#writing #spilledink #relationships

The Beauty on the Bank

She decided to walk along the bank, and saw her reflection in the water. As a narcissist, she stopped, and admired the picture floating on the ripples of despair that were her diluted existence. She wished to stand and admire the picture forever, but when she turned and faced the world she was old, wrinkled and faded. She had spent her life admiring the picture in the water. The river was the canvas and the bank was her easel. She was the artist and the subject. The river stole her beauty. The bank kept her occupied while the ripples slowly drifted away with handfuls of golden locks that idly sat on her shoulders. She tried to follow the river, to recapture her youth, but the bank ran out. She stood on the end of the bank and watched the river float away into the ocean. She called to the ripples that stole her hair and her blue eyes, but they had gone. When she turned around she saw a young beauty standing on the bank, admiring herself in the reflection of the water. She wanted to warn the beauty, as the ripples stole her blonde locks and the river stole her youth. She stood and watch the beauty grow old and ugly. She couldn’t help but smile as the beauty walked past her and to the end of the bank, and the beauty watched the river take her blond locks and her blue eyes to the ocean. She turned back to the other side of the bank, where a never-ending line of youthful blonde beauties with blue eyes waited patiently.

#beauty #prose #spilledink #writing

Love story

She talks and I watch the shapes that fall out of her mouth Each one drops to the floor and smashes The shards are my my soul, scattered And grotesque Yet they glint in the light They are beautiful, as they are horrid She laughs, the fucking whore My heart fails, again and again I love her like the sun loves the moon But everyday they miss each other The saddest love story I cannot make her love me She laughs I've forgotten how to laugh Instead I fight, and the pain makes me smile My soul lies shattered on the floor She sweeps up the shards With a brush of hate I stand, watching her, pleading...

#spilledink #writing #poetry #shapesandsounds

Life in words

So I was speaking to these people, and I wished I could just perform an aside to the world, letting them know how fucking boring the conversation was.

#writing #spilledink #prose

Blood bath

Your lies are spiders that spin webs of deceit around your black heart. It tastes so sweet. Your blood is too thick to swallow, but I try until I am sick. I care too much, you don't give a fuck.

#writing #prose #lies #ink

Meetings of a fucked up Nature

I slid pathetically into the room where the Man stood. He smiled at me deceivingly. The smile was a spider that clawed through his teeth and crept terrifyingly up to his cheeks. 'Fuck this,' I thought, but I knew I didn't have a choice anymore, it was stand here, in this god awful cesspit, shit hole, fucking pig stye of a room, with its gaudy antlers on the walls and its cheap pot puri pots on the old fashioned, decaying shitty sideboard, or walk back outside into the harsh reality of the horrid fucked up cunt of a world. My choice seemed simple...but honestly nothing really is never simple, never simple at all.

#writing #prose #linear narrative with a curve

A sweet endeavour

You said to me you knew what you were doing, and I was foolish enough to believe you. I was young and foolish. You offered me a cigarette, it was sweet, my head rushed as my senses alighted like a flame to a match. You talked to me, you whispered lyrics in my ear, the words corrupted me, a virus blackened my sweet heart. I said I love you, you laughed, love is sick, you sang. I was young and foolish, I believed in love, I believed in you. You were beautiful, you lit up my room like a lantern in the dark, like a firework over the river. You let me down, now I believe in my cigarette, I believe in your lyrics, my black heart has robbed me of my innocence. I was young and foolish, now I am you.

#writing #prose #story

Little Lie #4

I watched this tree blow, In the wind. The roots held on, As the wind laughed. It whistled and it laughed, The wind was fucking laughing, Until the tree gave up, Then the wind laughed again.

#tiny story #writing

Little lie #3

I watched this young man roll a cigarette. The tobacco was his blood, The paper was his skin, The filter was his brain, The cigarette was his soul, The cigarette took everything from him, and gave nothing back.

#tiny story #writing #smoking

Little lie #2

The sun shone, Casting shadows in the water The shadows smiled The shadows fell in love, The shadows grew old together, The sun set, And the shadows disappeared.

#tiny story #writing

Minute memory

There was this bird, on the floor. It couldn't fly. It's friends had flown away, But the bird, was alone on the floor. It's tears became an ocean, And people swam in it, But the bird was still alone.

#tiny story #writing

Tiny moment

I thought I was playing the game, But finally I realised the game was playing me.

#short story #writing

Self portrait

Made With Paper

#MadeWithPaper #Self portrait

Little Lie

She stood, on the grass, the blades tickling her ankle. I watched, hypnotised by the scene.

I stood on the concrete, it mimicked me, mockingly. We were metres away, but worlds apart.

#writing #tiny story

Destruction

I walked into the outside. It was grey, but the sky flickered patiently it's tired, sweet orange. My hands were still bleeding from the events of earlier, they stung and stung. I found a young trader on the side, and bought a fix. He wanted to talk, his face was innocent, his heart was black. I could smell the scent of cheap alcohol on his breath, alcohol that grabbed me round the neck and forced me to listen. I heard grotesque stories, from the man with the sweet pale face.

I saw a guy leaning on a wire fence. He had revenge on his lips. I wanted to talk. I wanted to ask him a thousand questions, but I wanted three thousand answers. I would never be happy, nothing he said would ever give me what I wanted. I needed a man to tell me his life, and for me to hang on the edge to every fucking word he spoke, I needed the words to bind me in chains and fuck me like a whore. I needed a guy who could tell me the world and more, and never slow down. My breath quickened, my heart beat faster and faster until my vision was blurred and I couldn't make out anything apart form the revenge on his lips. That, would never fade, it was calling me and it was smacking me across the face and it didn't give a care about it. It knew I was scum and it treated me like shit. I needed it, I needed the world.

#writing #prose #funandfunandfun #existentialism

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE INANIMATE OBJECT?

My right shoe

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

Nothing is ever simple...