This Night Has Opened My Eyes @mysteryhibou - Tumblr Blog

Im sitting in my living room. Watching friends to de com pr ess and no one wants to continue hearing about how they stole living singles ideas/budget. . .buuuur there are 3 fluffy cats strewn across my periphery and I’ve had gin. And jezzzzus, despite the years follies, I am feelin good.

estro-boi

Please make art. You don't have to bare your soul or make a masterpiece, you can be silly and you can be derivative if you want. You don't even have to show it to anyone. Just please make something, it's so good for you

apoemaday

You Bring Out the Mexican in Me

by Sandra Cisneros

You bring out the Mexican in me. The hunkered thick dark spiral. The core of a heart howl. The bitter bile. The tequila lágrimas on Saturday all through next weekend Sunday. You are the one I’d let go the other loves for, surrender my one-woman house. Allow you red wine in bed, even with my vintage lace linens. Maybe. Maybe.

For you.

You bring out the Dolores del Río in me. The Mexican spitfire in me. The raw navajas, glint and passion in me. The raise Cain and dance with the rooster-footed devil in me. The spangled sequin in me. The eagle and serpent in me. The mariachi trumpets of the blood in me. The Aztec love of war in me. The fierce obsidian of the tongue in me. The berrinchuda, bien-cabrona in me. The Pandora’s curiosity in me. The pre-Columbian death and destruction in me. The rainforest disaster, nuclear threat in me. The fear of fascists in me. Yes, you do. Yes, you do.

You bring out the colonizer in me. The holocaust of desire in me. The Mexico City ‘85 earthquake in me. The Popocatepetl/Ixtacchuatl in me. The tidal wave of recession in me. The Agustín Lara hopeless romantic in me. The barbacoa taquitos on Sunday in me. The cover the mirrors with cloth in me.

Sweet twin. My wicked other, I am the memory that circles your bed nights, that tugs you taut as moon tugs ocean. I claim you all mine, arrogant as Manifest Destiny. I want to rattle and rent you in two. I want to defile you and raise hell. I want to pull out the kitchen knives, dull and sharp, and whisk the air with crosses. Me sacas lo mexicana en mi, like it or not, honey.

You bring out the Uled-Nayl in me. The stand-back-white-bitch-in me. The switchblade in the boot in me. The Acapulco cliff diver in me. The Flecha Roja mountain disaster in me. The dengue fever in me. The ¡Alarma! murderess in me. I could kill in the name of you and think it worth it. Brandish a fork and terrorize rivals, female and male, who loiter and look at you, languid in you light. Oh,

I am evil. I am the filth goddess Tlazoltotl. I am the swallower of sins. The lust goddess without guilt. The delicious debauchery. You bring out the primordial exquisiteness in me. The nasty obsession in me. The corporal and venial sin in me. The original transgression in me.

Red ocher. Yellow ocher. Indigo. Cochineal. Pin. Copal. Sweetgrass. Myrrh. All you saints, blessed and terrible, Virgen de Guadalupe, diosa Coatlicue, I invoke you.

Quiero ser tuya. Only yours. Only you. Quiero amarte. Atarte. Amarrarte. Love the way a Mexican woman loves. Let me show you. Love the only way I know how.

I spy some green stuff and a Jesus and Mary Chain set list..feliz st. patty’s day !! (at Berkeley, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp645rjORrL/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

snuh

Vincent di Fate: Magic Mountain - Can Publications #61947498, 2002

contac

No memes, just good a time amongst the redwoods, struggling to climb that mountain that is always calling, ugh. Also, like one lady bug is cute but not 30 together??? gross. #muirwoods (at Muir Woods National Monument) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn_MSsFO9hP/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#muirwoods

unsubconscious

From “Cats in the Sun”, Greek Islands, published 1994 by Hans Silvester

dandeeliion

@venusmoon

etherea1ity

Views from Mountain Hostel, Gimmelwald, Switzerland. ( via )

I just need a fucking hug.

I don’t think I’m ever going to do anything ever again? What is thee point.

do old people just walk around feeling young? thinking they’re young, because in some instances they are, yet they are achey. however, an actual young person who sees them just sees: old..?

I’m somewhere in the middle i think, i feel young but am older yet not old enough to be actually old. I expected more from this time (mid 30′s). It’s always crazy to think how many people I have loved and in that sense I am lucky but also dang, i wish it was just one. it stayed one. it could’ve but I messed that up a long time ago - i’m sure they’re in love again too.

I’ll try to love again, it’s just getting hard to fully do it - again.