Life's Rich Pagent @lifesrichpagent-blog - Tumblr Blog

laurazocca

I like drinking coffee alone, and reading alone.

I like riding the bus alone, and walking home alone.

It gives me time to think, and set my mind free.

I like eating alone, and listening to music alone.

But when I see a mother with her child;

A girl with her lover;

Or a friend laughing with their best friend;

I realize that even though I like being alone

I don’t fancy being lonely.

after 3+ years on tumblr this is still the most relevant accurate thing i’ve ever seen

saturninefilms-deactivated20240

Keokuk is in the process of tearing this building down. The last couple days have began with the sound of bad classic-rock music, hammers, and burly men dealing with hangovers. It always makes me sad to see a house come down in this town, no matter how necessary it may be. I instantly think about generations of different families living inside them, wondering when exactly it went to shit.

You can’t see it in this photo, but this house is nearly half a block long. At some point, somebody built a business onto the back, and a garage just behind that. The woodwork that decorates the porch, though warped, is hand-cut and intricate. Certainly, at some point in time, this house was somebody’s pride and joy. In its entire lifespan, it was probably multiple people’s pride and joy. If that’s not sad, then I don’t know what is.

Today, the final moments of attention this house will ever receive, is devoted to little more than fart jokes and pulling rusty nails. I suddenly want to know about the history of this house. I want to know when it went to shit.

I suppose that’s what happens to most things, though, with enough time.

saturninefilms-deactivated20240

Keokuk is in the process of tearing this building down. The last couple days have began with the sound of bad classic-rock music, hammers, and burly men dealing with hangovers. It always makes me sad to see a house come down in this town, no matter how necessary it may be. I instantly think about generations of different families living inside them, wondering when exactly it went to shit.

You can’t see it in this photo, but this house is nearly half a block long. At some point, somebody built a business onto the back, and a garage just behind that. The woodwork that decorates the porch, though warped, is hand-cut and intricate. Certainly, at some point in time, this house was somebody’s pride and joy. In its entire lifespan, it was probably multiple people’s pride and joy. If that’s not sad, then I don’t know what is.

Today, the final moments of attention this house will ever receive, is devoted to little more than fart jokes and pulling rusty nails. I suddenly want to know about the history of this house. I want to know when it went to shit.

I suppose that’s what happens to most things, though, with enough time.