kaiju prince

Hyper-real Pedestrian Facsimile: A Measured Response To Entropy

[kaijuprince]

Okay 100% sure I'm adding nothing new to the discourse, but, nothing born of the human endeavour will ever be so hilariously confusing as the Fast and Furious movie titles.

After googling -

The Fast and The Furious: Got it.

2 Fast 2 Furious: I mean, you would have been a fool not to.

Turbo-Charged Prelude for 2 Fast 2 Furious: Huh?! Oh, it's an online release short film.

The Fast and The Furious: Tokyo Drift: Okay, so we're dropping the numbers. Don't see why not.

Fast and Furious: Is ... Is this not? ... Is this a reboot? It isn't. Huh.

Los Bandoleros: ... WHAT is happening? Oh, another short thing.

Fast Five: SO THE NUMBERS ARE BACK? Also we're dropping furious?

Fast and Furious 6: This has to be intentional.

Furious 7: NOW WE'RE DROPPING FAST? FURIOUS GETS A SOLO?

The Fate of the Furious: This might be a cry for help. Someone call Vin.

F9: hahahaha

Fast X: Oh look, Fast is back. Hi Fast!

Fast X Part 2: Should have been 2 Fast 2 X honestly

[kaijuprince]

A poem about the systematic erasure of heritage and tradition of the Scots (and others) - kp

[ghostcafe]

[criwes]

[thoughtkick]

Be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.

Max Ehrmann; Desiderata (via thoughtkick)

[patrickjmccormack]

[radijs-dalfo]

[kaijuprince]

Keepsake by kp

[kaijuprince]

[kaijuprince]

I am so small, yet, uneasily broken. As she beats waves in ebb and flow motion I count them out, one by one, as they smooth my ragged edges. And my edges are ragged, rough and raw. and coarse, ofcourse. With time I shape To round perferction and soon my join some soft soul’s collection, Of other like me, small and uneven. Unbreaking it seems. And just like the others, I as my own, have hopes, and wants, and fears, and dreams. Like pressure turns coal to precious diamonds, feeling no remorse at all The pressure I feel Is welcomed and longed for as she refines me of my faults. As I’ve kept here for years among my peers, I wonder if I’m alone In the eternal lamenting, complete unrelenting worship of her tones. You see, she’s this, pale blue-green sun-kissed water demon that fills me with strength with each wave she sends beating to rest. And so deep is the love that I have chosen, and deeper still, My beloved Ocean, That no language has words to imagine her depth

kp

[prey-exodus]

Number 13

I feel like a child again when

Weeping in your lap,

And trust me mother

When i say,

There is no greater pain

Than seeing your anguish at my tears

And not being able to tell you

Of the reason behind them.

For I know that if I said

'I weep for the love of a girl'

You'd cast me away.

And mother, I love you,

So I would rather bite my tongue

Than say the truth.

Forgive me then, mother,

Even though you'll never know,

That I sob and wail

And cry and mourn

For the love of a girl

Whose name you'll never know.

[wearythoughtslabouredmind-blog]

My mother told me I would be a heartbreaker, which I took as a compliment until I broke my first heart And watched the colour Drain from her face Then sighed the more At her thinning waist

I broke a few more To be sure I knew how, If it was to be my trade I would be the best I could and the worst I could imagine

So when I’m asked Of past lovers I’d have a list of those Who loved me more than Most people ever knew how That I loved more Than I ever thought Then mine with theirs Fell apart And we would trade off pieces For our collections

Now knowing myself As a romantic fool I think it is safer To be a heartbreaker Than to loan your love to wolves

[wearythoughtslabouredmind-blog]

The worst break up I ever had

“It’s not you, It’s me.” Oh great, that sounded more cliched than I thought it ever could. How can I explain then, without being a cliche? When my trouble is old and my story told; Boy meets girl and so dropped the world from orbit, now falls, is falling

Then came another from dry lips “We want different things, I don’t even want kids”, like I had met them and thought of you and somehow knew I shouldn’t.

With an easing sigh, You ignored my flaws, “At least the birds are singing, it’s a new day for them” And and then again came the waves of confusion, “how can you tell they know it’s the morn and not simply lost in illusion”

“You’re so soft, my love, and not bold enough. You let your years dictate the flow. Now all I can do is hope comes a day your mind will give way for soul”

[wearythoughtslabouredmind-blog]

Call your father for me, tell him thank you.

Tell him though you never became the person he wanted, or the woman you hoped, he made you the partner I need.

Call your father for me, would you?

Tell him despite carving up your childhood to lay the mosaic of an adult, you retained your compassion, a virtue or two and revised the meaning of home. A weary few cried “do as they do” but there are no lions to eat in Rome.

So maybe don’t thank him, or do for nothing: as its clear you raised yourself, both claws in the dirt, covered in mud, cheers to minimal health,

Please call your father, it will suck like all hell but make you feel better to tell him how he failed.

Call your father for me, please. Call him a monster, And tell him how hope prevailed.

-c.w

[wearythoughtslabouredmind-blog]

What if I wish Simply not to be human Or not hear that buzzing The constant ringing The choir of human souls

Would then I exist Simply to be living Harken and hear the noise Of nothing but growing things the echo of a voice

Chosen its words To a steady tune Minor, yet swollen With joyful repair Thy heart strings sown to wither

Let all growing things burst with colour and worth Not price No ego All pride Sing And fuck Then die

[wearythoughtslabouredmind-blog]

I don’t know who she was But she liked to sing this song of Hers Of a tree that won’t grow tall enough The only seed it sowed was love

And it grows towards the sun As if it’s worshiping the weather And now it’s getting warm Prays things will now get better

[wearythoughtslabouredmind-blog]

a few verses long over due

Wallow sweet bird and lament the dawn, let the sun not raise you to the morn but race to the soft blue canvas,

A silver tongue adds weight to haul, It’s just aching blood and bone, is all, That binds you to the mattress

Remember child should they ask you to swell, despite all that is well they beg you may stay swollen

Like cracks in the earth split so the ground, cry with any souls you’ve found “this is the path I’ve chosen”

Was she not a river flood with awe, Of feral wit and tender flaws, That seeks the age old fortune,

Of love that is blind, For two of a kind, Draft by love forgotten

-cw