Heart like a Kick Drum, Love like a Voice.

“Half of the world is composed of people who have something to say and can’t, and the other half who have nothing to say and keep on saying it.” -Robert Frost

[stability]

[stability]

[odinsblog]

How much US spends on military (roughly $600b)

How much US sends on education vs. military 

Why what Amanda Carpenter said is ignorant 

[lukington]

Yes

[baawri]

[lukington]

Life summed up in a GIF

[lukington]

"The longer I'm awake, the clearer she becomes."

[lukington]

"Now I'm wondering why I can never fall asleep at night. Maybe it's because the Man with all the answers doesn't speak to me"

[lukington]

"I wanna sing with blood and guts, instead I'm singing to you"

[lukington]

Alive

Am I living or surviving? Am I even surviving? Is there even still a battle or have I already been defeated? The clouds billowing overhead are black like smoke. Am I the fire? It burns my eyes, so I shield them and walk on. Where am I going? Will anyone be there when I arrive? My curiosity pushes me on, but my doubt slows my efforts. "Press on toward the goal to win the prize" is something echoing in the annals of my mind. That must be You calling me. That's good enough for me.

[lukington]

Mental Violence

Space is subjective. How far I am from where I was. How close I am to where I'm going. Frozen in place. Suspended in time. Too long from the beginning to turn back, yet an eternity away from a place I'm not even sure of its worth. Is it worth it? The silence between my question and a reply is deafening. So here I bang on any object around me to fill the violent void that surrounds me. Sounds like a military march. From victory or to slaughter? Silence. Just the ruckus I create to carry me. Bang. Bang. Bang.

[lukington]

Fear of Falling

Every time I sit down to write it always ends up being your name. I can’t decide if seeing your face in every beautiful thing is a curse or gift. Right now it’s gift. Right now it’s in the mountains under the midday sun. As they sit below the rays they’re a shinning royal blue reflecting the sky above it, covered in pure snow as they pierce the clouds that are hanging lower than normal. The sun on my skin feels like your touch, filling in every crack and crevice of my surface making me feel whole and weightless. This lift though, far surpassing any heights offered by the world around me. The wind howls as it whips through the spaces between my fingers and fills my shirt. Free fall. My once trusty parachute is gone. Reminiscent of a bad dream that my body jolts awake from before impact. Except this time, I’m not dreaming. Which makes the fear of the fall and the beauty of your face that much more real and inspiring. I feel myself picking up speed, yet the ground doesn’t appear to be getting closer. It doesn’t make sense. It honestly never did.

[sunnyskiesandstarryeyes]

[lukington]

"Waking up is the hardest part"

[lukington]

Fuel

It would appear as if I'm lost. I'd be willing to agree. Like a desperate traveler on the shoulder of a back country road. This car runs, but not by much. The junky engine rattles and bangs like a brain with too many loose memories. I've found myself driving both. The odometer reads like a tried heart. Blackened with every passing town. I know where I've been. None of these lights on the dashboard seem to want to turn off, that's fine with me. Not sure how to fix those yet anyway. The gas lights on - the only light I can trust - but the further I drive the farther from my destination I seem.

[lukington]

Music

A violin sounds like a recounting of lost war. Cohen once wrote Love is not a victory march, but a cold and broke hallelujah. It would seem he was right. At least that’s the picture music decides to paint. Beats from a drum sounds like the last few pumps from a weakened heart. Doubling as an organ that houses millions of unending long ago memories like photos from a Polaroid. Notes of piano sound like the tears I can’t cry as they begin to blur what occurred and what is happening. With each passing day the guitar sounds more and more like an instrument designated to record my fate. Music saves and kills. I wonder when it will sound the same, or if I even want it to at all.

[lukington]

I Miss

Someone told me to write it out. I don't know if it helps, but I thought I'd give it a try. So far it seems to just be making my brain work harder to remember all the details. To remember all the little wonders I discovered and loved about you. Love about you. The things I loved in the moment that I now miss and the things that bothered me that I find myself somehow missing more. I miss the simple things. I miss your face you make when you concentrate, the expression everyone thought was an angry, but really just an deep unquenchable desire and focus to learn and discover things. I miss how you press your tongue up against the backs of your lower teeth when you talk. I miss the look in your eye when you would tell me stories. I miss hearing how your voice would carry the words you had just created while reading me something you wrote. I miss seeing how lost you would get into something you were writing. I miss witnessing you misplace things because of how many different thoughts and ideas you have running through your bright mind. I miss the sudden shake your body would do right before you trusted your environment enough to sleep. I miss your long, full, dark hair and all the different places it would find itself. I miss your smell and how it would calm me when I was close to you. I miss your warm skin and how it made me feel holding you. I miss your infectious smile and how it would lift my spirits and fill my heart to the brim. I miss your back seat driving, no matter how anxious. I miss your carefree approach to the life unfolding before us. I miss your deep and vivid assessments of even the simplest of things that would occur. I miss how you would open my mind to endless, vast ideas and possibilities about anything we would see. I miss your voice. I miss your singing and how it would cut out all the surrounding noise. I miss your freckle on your nose and how you hated it. I miss your smile and how in love with it I was. Am. I miss your laugh and how it brings joy to everyone around you. I miss you. I love you. I don't know if this is helping. I don't know a lot of things, I miss the fact that you always seemingly did. Do. I miss the pieces of me I lost. Parts of me I didn't even know I had, parts of me that I couldn't have gained from anyone else. This is usually the part where someone says "'maybe you miss the idea of her?" To which I simply suggest that a flower doesn't miss the idea of the sun when it sets, it craves the suns very existence. Like I said before. I'm not sure if this is helping or hurting, but it feels like it's helping even if it just makes me miss you more.

[lukington]

"Cause I got a really big team, and they need some really big rings. They need some really nice things." 🎼🏈💍🏆 SUPER BOWL CHAMPIONS BABY! I love my #Broncos ! #CHAMPIONS #SuperBowl50

[lukington]

Just looks so beautiful. Three time world champs. Broncos baby. Yes! #SuperBowl50 #CHAMPIONS

[lukington]

#VONSTER #SuperBowl50 #CHAMPIONS #Broncos Can you believe it?!? Yes! Von Miller with the MVP!

[lukington]

Me when someone says they're a Panthers fan.