All I do is ponder, wonder, wondering, and wondering of things. Pulling at vapor threads and ripping at the seams.
All I do is tinker, poke, prod, and passing for a dream. Fantasize of yesteryear now regretting what it means.
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if i look back, i am lost
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
One Nice Bug Per Day
wallacepolsom
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Peter Solarz

pixel skylines

Kiana Khansmith

⁂

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Not today Justin

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blake kathryn
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Xuebing Du
occasionally subtle

★
trying on a metaphor
Cosimo Galluzzi

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@krakle
All I do is ponder, wonder, wondering, and wondering of things. Pulling at vapor threads and ripping at the seams.
All I do is tinker, poke, prod, and passing for a dream. Fantasize of yesteryear now regretting what it means.
You look happy and I am coming to grips with the worst parts of my being. To be human is to hold these toxic, jealous, vengeful traits that were suppose to pretend are alien to normal life.
Wanting you in my arms, despite the run it would bring, is normal. Who made these rules and regulations over emotional impulses that got brought our ancestors to the dance.
What is toxic? Traits that run afoul of our novel notions of self-actualisation? Does that presuppose a good faith basis for all true human desires. That’s incoherent. If I were good, wouldn’t I not want this?
My therapist rejected my self diagnosis for narcissistic personality disorder because concern that I may have it. But THAT presupposes all narcissism requires a lack of self awareness.
How loathsome must those of us be who are hyper self aware of our malfeasance thus pulling us out of a diagnostic sphere that may give us tools to be better to those around us.
I’m told these thirties are the dying days. The summer dusk, late afternoon the stars peak from the east and ink away day blue.
And here I am still thinking of you.
I’ve climbed mountains to see if the earth was flat. To see the if gravity was folly or fact. But I faced lies as well as the truth.. still I’m thinking of you.
When it was our time. I could have as easily just died. I deny the passage of time. Here lines carve my face and I miss the signs.
Stronger than I was, still weaken by… you eyes.
She kisses me in my dreams. Is it enough? It’ll have to be. Simply put I’m in misery. What else is news to me?
Surely you’ve grown as girls are keen to do. The women you’ve become, goddess foreseen in lieu, of time I’ve spent thinking of you.
But my world has given up the write. These world, like sand, fill up my mind. The hourglass tips to buy my time. When I die, I will fly thinking you…
Hello darkness, my old friend.
Grip
I stopped counting
all the stars in the sky
Do you see them too
when you look at the night
I stopped up short of certain
of all I once held dear
Made my bed with layered lies
I still clothe myself in fears
Memory is what I have
to replace the mountain view
All the stars pale in comparison
when I remember you
In the absence of experience
I, at least, recollect
that you were an answer to a dream
You'll forgive me my illusions but,
it was a two-way street
Instagram: animals_lover_ig
Narrative
I'll come closer Embrace our eulagy You walk father Farther away from me No one's speaking Hands up simply Voices silent Throats choked in apathy Skin grows thicker Accustomed brutality Smiles seen seldom Symptoms of atrophy To our backs ups Carrying weights We cannot see Covered faces Shamed incredulity Anger swells up Deep in the heart of me Guns raised forward Backwards as some see Options ran down Stopping just short of free
There Are We
Old scars crisscross my hands Time taken to understand Old burns still kiss my lips The sting of your finger tips
And I’m nearly full to burst You suck me in and quench my thirst I pull you close, so close it hurts We have all night to work
And the air turns thick and warm churning through the cold to amass a massive storm These walls fade away my eyes fill up with your face transcendence take the stars The fires where you are Gravity wells gripping us The insatiable singularity of love
Less Eloquent Thoughts
Can you love someone enough to let them go in the rain Knowing the whole time they'll grow to hate your name Can you love so much you say goodbye Even if their whole life is alive in your eyes Can you love enough you walk away Knowing in the morning they beg you to stay Do you see the other side, the one their hope belies The ends of unjust means the subtle deception it breeds I am not so great a man, what I do for her she'll never understand Envy deals a jealous hand, the cards we're dealt never aline with our plans - Zach...
I Cross the Street.
I remember hearing a story About a guy who got cops called on him because he was walking home and happened to be behind this young woman. She thought she was being followed he understood her fear but it still hurt.
He grew to resent the humiliation. He’s white, English his third language, America his second home. His resentment grew to outrage. After all he’s a decent human being who never hurt a fly. Why is he being singled out for walking too close behind.
And when I heard this story, as a black man, I didn’t hear the horrible state of sexual assault in our society. Or the actions the police took to defuse the situation. I thought “what did you expect, man?”
I didn’t think “yeah! How does it feel! Walk a mile in our shoes! Check your privilege.” I thought, “man that’s why you always cross the street.” I was raised that if it I looked wrong, I was wrong. Before Trayvon Martin, before the Baltimore riots, 1998, I was 9 years old my dad told me. “You’re one word away from jail, and one move away from dead. That’s just the way it is son, you’re a man, you’re a black man, and I don’t want to lose you.” So when I heard that a boy wearing a black hoodie got shot in his own neighborhood, my first honest thought was “why was he out so late, alone? Are you kidding me?” My dad taught me to think about where I was, who I was with, where I was going, how I was going to get there. “If you don’t have a plan, someone else will make one for you.” Emmett Till, nobody taught him that…
I hate that my father thought he needed to teach me that, and yet, how many times have I crossed the street, how many times have his lessons saved my record, or my life. If I could help it, I would never walk within a stones throw of any woman I don’t know, by myself especially at night, and especially if no one else was walking that direction. I remember walking into a McDonald’s, buying an order of fries and throwing them away because two minutes earlier I noticed a woman do a double take at me, obviously frightened at the sight of a 6'2" 270lb black man not 20 paces behind her. “Don’t mind me ma'am, just grabbing dinner.” I know that’s not right, I know it’s not fair. But women have every reason to fear me if they don’t know me. You can have faith in humanity, I do on a macro scale. But I also know that women are assaulted and raped every other minute in my city alone, and cops are threatened and attacked every day. I’m not handsome, I don’t have a disarming air about me, I am, at first glance everything everyone in this country is raised to believe what the boogie man actually is. So I don’t lurk under the bed or hide in your closet. I cross the street.
The Ideal Woman
You asked that I write them down The thoughts I've lost and found It is not with disregard that I regard it now. The sculptor in my mind Etching out the perfect wife It is not with carelessness That I care what isn't right Because I have no ideal scheme No flawless woman in my dreams Am I not a beast beneath Where would I find the nerve to be Let us be frank if you could believe You are everything I could need Tenderhearted, resourceful and sweet You love fiercely, and you love me As to the passing of the woman of fantasy I have long since made my peace Do not contrive the thing yet to be You will only be handed ashes to eat
My Angel
Laying in bed I wish you were here I miss your arms around me my dear It’s quiet and stormy, though I’m warm and dry The perfect time to have you by my side We’ll sit together, tangled in skin Listen to thunder rolling again Talking for hours, sharing many a kiss Moments like these are made of sheer bliss I love you, I need you, you’re perfect my love. You are my angel sent from above –
From your Emerald Eyes
Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.
Oscar Wilde (via quotemadness)
I fall all over again Just when I think I’m closing in Your rose blooms against your skin And I am taken, taken By the light dancing over your outlines My thoughts tumble over in my mind Like how could hope ever leave me When you’ve seen the things I’ve seen You can help but believe in Ever after and everlasting And I want every last thing With you.