gay slut decay dream words

poetry and honesty. poetry and a clarity of feeling. poetry and a truth.

[ps1]

Nason Creek

[carnetimaginaire]

Anna Pugh, Moon run

[quixoticanarchy]

I didn’t miss that social cue I just thought it was stupid 

[byjove]

I love asking people how their parents met. You always get an interesting reply. My best friend’s parents met on the relatively new internet in 1999. My other friend’s parents met at Burger King when one was the manager and the other was a regular customer. My parents met at the beach because they were neighbors in their rental houses, mom was on a church trip and dad was getting blackout drunk every night with his friends next door.

Tell me how your parents met in the tags.

[all-mysterious-siphonophore]

Nude female in water (水に裸女) by Ichijo Narumi, digital reproduction

[neoyorzapoteca]

Sakanoe trans. by Kenneth Rexroth, One Hundred Poems from the Japanese

[exitwound]

Youre a mollusk and something potentially bad or scary gets inside you what do you do. Make a pearl around it. Okay. okay

[ashtabharya-deactivated20240717]

[edwordsmyth]

Diego Rivera, Nocturnal Landscape, 1947.

[fuckyeahplattenbau]

Balykchy, Kyrgyzstan

[jcnny]

I woke up really early the other morning and filmed the rain.

[slavetomyheadcanon]

I can just let this run all day

[xirae]

I called my house from a pay phone down the street before I went home. I needed to check on the empty situation. It was daylight, still here. My shadow looked large and unschooled. The sidewalk was yellow in the sun. I was thinking that I wasn't anyone and that my future would be a trajectory leading further away. The lilacs were out. They looked like a detail from a bucolic story or tableau where people are naked, eating picnics, grapes, kissing, and drinking wine while playing musical instruments. It seems made-up, but it's not. It must be based on a world something like the one that's here while I'm walking. Many houses are abutted by hedges. I don't like this, but I wouldn't take them away. The hedges are often surrounded by beds of wood chips. The sight of them is a silent story about the dead. I was filled with yearning to sit against the side of a house between two hedges. I don't know how to pray but I would try. I felt somber and excited, about to go into my house.

Some people come down the street. They’re very dressed up. I can see them from my bedroom window. My house is quiet, as though it isn't mine but was given to me by something other than myself. The dressed up people cross the street and walk under the lilac trees. They look very nice and awful. The young woman wears a peach dress with cream-colored heels. She's with a young man wearing a dark blue suit and a turquoise shirt. How unfortunate that they have to go out in daylight and see themselves out among trees, streets, and open sounds. Walking through my house, I love the doors best. Waking up the other day, I went downstairs and banged my face into the door frame of a closet. It hurt. It was only an accident, but I ended up in tears. Now with this bump on my forehead, I'm grateful. I wash the dishes, clean the bathroom, vacuum. Over the course of several days I feel satisfied that my apologies have run themselves out. I don't know when it's time to stop but eventually I do, and I do other things.

It Is Daylight - Arda Collins

[sophsun1]

Fleetwood Mac | Silver Springs Live (1997)

During a taping of a Fleetwood Mac reunion show later released as The Dance, shit once again got very real. Midway through the bridge of a non-album rarity called “Silver Springs,” Nicks turned and faced her former flame as she sang the song’s rueful bridge: “Time cast a spell on you, but you won’t forget me/ I know I could have loved you but you would not let me.” The pair locked eyes, and Nicks gradually built to a cathartic howl – “I’ll follow you down ’til the sound of my voice will haunt you/ You’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you” indicating that, for her at least, resolution had never really come.

Suddenly, “Silver Springs,” a song written for Rumours but left off the finished album and relegated to B-side status, seemed like the key to the entire messy and enthralling saga of Fleetwood Mac’s most beloved lineup. 

Rumours became a theatrical affair, with the exes addressing one another’s faults, their own pain and a storm of other topics related to their respective heartbreaks. “Silver Springs” was Nicks’ tribute to the fairy-tale ending that never was. The title came from Silver Spring, Maryland: While passing through the town on tour, Nicks romanticised the name. “It sounded like a pretty fabulous place to me, it’s a whole symbolic thing of what [Lindsey] could have been to me.”

The track’s primary exposure was as a B side to “Go Your Own Way” Buckingham’s own expression of anger and revenge against Nicks, where he claimed that “packin’ up, shackin’ up is all you wanna do.”

"He knew it wasn’t true. It was just an angry thing that he said,” Nicks told of the “packin’ up, shackin’ up” line. “Every time those words would come onstage, I wanted to go over and kill him. He knew it. He really pushed my buttons through that. It was like, ‘I’ll make you suffer for leaving me.’ And I did.”

Of course, Nicks had the exact same motivation when she wrote “Silver Springs.” She explained the song’s message as “I’m so angry with you. You will listen to me on the radio for the rest of your life, and it will bug you. I hope it bugs you.”

[aromanticsky]

I think that if I unsubscribe I should stop getting the emails

[postcardsfromwanderings]

The old lifeboat station pounded by a wave, Newquay, Cornwall

[briargeese]

Sun glitter on the water.

[aroace-ryland-grace]

the sewing machine is like if a horse and an inkjet printer had a child