Andulka
art blog(derogatory)
styofa doing anything
JBB: An Artblog!
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
$LAYYYTER
Xuebing Du
shark vs the universe
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
d e v o n
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pixel skylines
Product Placement
Kiana Khansmith
trying on a metaphor
DEAR READER
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blake kathryn
oozey mess
NASA
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@memoirsofathunderstorm
/Diary #121
October 22nd, 2020 at 9:21 am
Lately I’ve found myself wandering streets I long ago left, miles away, getting lost in their memories and lingers.
So much I’ve started smelling them again,
touching them barely with my fingertips.
Hearing their echoes just far enough away to not quite understand what they are saying,
and the sight of them sends a hard feeling to my gut, and an ice cold shiver to my heart.
/Diary #120
August 19th, 2020 at 1:51 am
Unleashed (Mother Earth)
I am fire
and
I am ice
I am the rubble
falling at your feet
and the wind blowing you down to the ground.
I am Mother Earth unleashed,
and now I’m done trying to be bound.
By sand, dust, gust and embers,
tiny frost lingering.
You will see me fully
clearly
and I swear
You will never forget me.
/Diary #119
August 6th, 2020 at 9:17 am
Melancholic pearls formed outside the window pane, and in my eyes as I realized now, it was 9 years ago we had first held each others arms, and the first time we kissed.
It was all so very pure as the love we had already had for each other in the small time before this, had been through connection without touch, only voices and lingering words of promise to see one another.
What a wasted love it would be.
You tried so hard for us, but my heart couldn’t keep crumbling for every day I couldn’t touch you after that, and it all exploded.
Now I can’t enter your home again, and you won’t let me in either.
I threw that key away, to keep it from my reach, and you were the one that caught it, and hid it away to keep me gone.
New lives unspoked of, never known of,
but I miss you, even if this is the only way I can’t tell you.
/Diary #118
August 1st, 2020 at 10:15 am
At times I let darkness consume me,
I let it paint me with red, flickering light of red,
When I touch myself and it’s suddenly you taking over my mind, my neck, hair, mouth, cunt, arms,
and I let you consume me
tie me, and all I am is flesh and chains with a lock.
You paint yourself in blue in hopes of disappearing,
all traces of you covered in paint,
but you bear the key still after throwing it away.
I let it paint me green
swallowing me whole because I cannot have you.
Loss of passion, leaving me purple.
/Diary #117
July 7th, 2020 at 4:37 pm
When the rain hits the ground in my hometown,
it’s like it evaporates cold in to the air and brings forth a frigid wind,
and when the sun is at it’s highest and most boiling point, it’s like being in a desert with no water.
/Diary #116
May 4th, 2020 at time unknown
I usually go with the flow
Sometimes I end up in a stream going much too fast for me and my judgement, or will, to speak up, and it goes so fast I just don’t know how to get out of it.
/Diary #115
April 19th, 2020 at 5:06 am
I wonder how psychological evaluation would be if they met the person in their real habitats, or when they are intoxicated, or with certain people, or other people around them that know the person well enough to tell the psychologist about them, what their perception is of them, or around different settings or circumstances.
They are truly just met with the person itself, and that persons own image of self.
What if they are wrong?
What if they are lying or twisting the reality?
What if they are wrong?
/Diary #114
April 1st, 2020 at 4:32 am
I have always been cynical,
especially towards love.
Lately my mind has been spinning,
like when you are sat on a fun-fair teacup
and you’re being spun around,
so fast that your adrenaline spikes and reaches it’s peak.
That’s what love feels like, in the beginning.
You feel your whole body responding to it,
and as time goes by, the ride starts to slow.
The rush is gone, and I want to keep spinning,
but there’s no one to spin me around anymore.
/Diary #113
March 3rd, 2020 at time unknown
Sensuality
How have you not learnt by now,
that the sensuality of a woman is first discovered
by the taste and heat of her skin and sweat,
not by her short clothing, or her prolonged feet adding inches to her height,
nor is it the art she paints her canvassed face.
It is her bare essence.
/Diary #112
February 22, 2020 at time unknown
When you leave
I never knew I could feel such a loss,
a loss that I knew wasn’t permanent either.
You left me at home, a broken hearted woman,
and you didn’t even know you broke my heart.
Although unintentional, it was still I that would be sweeping the tears of my face,
and the pieces of myself off the floor.
/Diary #111
February 28th, 2020 at time unknown
The Port
Feel like I’ve been sailing an eternity in thunderstorms,
only to find myself in hurricanes when I arrive
at your still watered port
and unshaking ground.
/Diary #110
February 19th, at time unknown
The Path
At times, I start to feel a great loss for the beginning.
I miss it very dearly,
and I begin to wonder,
about the stones that formed the path,
how it is today, and if they will run out,
or if they will change with the seasons and years.
But I am reminded time and again,
that the path would not be the same, had they been placed differently,
or perhaps been different stones.
So you start to trust the path, and where it takes you.
Even in the darkest of trails,
even if you’re convinced they are turning in to pebbles.
/Diary #109
February 22, 2020 at time unknown
Waves
The ocean is such a beautiful thing.
To many,
it is one of the most powerful things there is.
And we forget
how much is in it, that we cannot reach
that hasn’t been discovered.
And it makes you think
how much it is like you.
Like me.
/Diary #108
January 16th, 2020 at time unknown.
Human Nature
Why do I have to show you
how to turn the wheels on a faucet
When the river beck is already running wildly across the walls,
yet you are too blind to feel the surrounding nature
and can only think of your logic, and not listen to the simplicity
of a body speaking to you,
showing you the natures wetness,
telling you to let go.
Some people don’t want natural.
Some people don’t know raw.
Some people simply learn,
about the things that are only good enough for them to know and care about.
My nature was long polluted before you,
but as you embark on it,
I am completely
utterly
destroyed.
/Diary #107
January 9th, 2020 at 2:55 am
Words
I am not good with words
I am good with thoughts
Theres’s plenty of them
My fingers jolting against the keyboard
trying to keep up with them
I am not good with words
Yet I still find myself in search of them
On the broken screen of a phone
or a clicking keyboard of a computer
I am good with thoughts
because they’ll never be spoken out loud
They’re safe with me, and my screen
I am not good with words
No matter how perfect they seem.
/Diary #106
July 19, 2019 at 1:58 am
I love falling asleep to the sound of the rain
soaking
like the grass outside
wrapped in dew drops
of playful lust and love
splashing and shattering
as it drubs the flower repeatedly
until it is quenched
three times more than feasible
/Diary #105
April 4th, 2019 at 2:02 AM
I long for the feeling
of coming home to you
playing away on your bass
gliding over it’s neck
fingers moving swiftly
firmly pulling it’s strings
imagining it is me you are playing
drawing me to the next room
waiting to be made music of
make me sing baby