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RepetitionI'm going to write about Leo again, but this time, I'm going to be truthful about it.
It happens often that I wish he'd never found me, or I him.
That we had remained strangers,
going about our lives,
Ignorant to what we were missing (good and bad).
Though physical space and mental walls separate us, I still cannot find love elsewhere
You've taken my heart and now it beats in your hands
and though I attract others with unexplained magnetism,
I am not considering them the same way
and I never will.
You make things harder, you dogged and figurative lion
you, who loses English in intensity
you, who loses time to whiskey,
you, who loses music to guitars
who writes in secret, and can't sleep at night
who hates the cold but can't stand heat either,
and leaves into the dark to fall further
into depressive abuse of your own mind.
You are not perfect and neither am I. I still wonder if you even know how to hold conversation,
or if everything is one sided and two dimensional to you.
Talk to me,
To all of you.I wish I could stop stating that I don't know what to say, but I’ve found it is the best way to start something new. Yes I continue to write the same words in different phrases, different statements, yet still just as meaningful. I have found that others look for the connections, the burning trees and drums, the references to oceans and the way I fabricate fire each time (its always changing). They search for the contradictions, find each way I illustrate inversions and start words with the same letters. Its just what happens, and thats really all I can say about it.
I’ve had many tell me that artistry is a reflection of the mind- and I can say this is true.
To you, who say otherwise, you know, its only out of fear of judgement.
I am not afraid to say that this is me, that these words, disturbing, vexing, and altogether strange (yet relatable), are my reflections. Reflections on mentality, reflections on emotions and opinions and what may seem like just-more-melodram
You cant buy my mentality.You know, for what its worth, I have to say this,
that, after everything ive been through
after the exhaustion, that tired feeling that
only few of us share
theres still enough to keep me going.
I may need the rest, and I may endure the
restlessness, but there is no difference between
life getting easier, or continuing to be difficult.
like everyone else and
I write, like many do (yet they refuse to admit)
and I paint, I burn pages with charcoal
I stain paper with ink in the form of
landscapes or trees.
and I strategize the next word to illustrate
no matter which pen I use.
Nights of drug-addicts, keeping me up
dont slow this,
they make me grateful
for what could have been (to other friends)
and I relish the fact that it was me
and not you. not her. not my sister, however metaphorical that may be
and I say
Dear lonely, violent escapist
thank you- thank you for thinking you could take me
so I may warn all the others
who might have been within your grasp.
snowfall beaconsThere isn't much for me to write about lately.
I could contemplate the cold, the mountains and snow
or I could lament the distance between us,
create a metaphorical connection between you and
the way I see my breath
every time I speak
Every time I breathe.
I could draw pictures in the frost
on car windows, begging to be washed,
wander down the main street with smoke in my hand,
again exhaling visibility. Is it you in the air I see?
You're simply farther down the monochrome asphalt,
always a sorrowful step ahead of me.
You know I could sleep at night,
and avoid the insomnia,
but we both know the impossibility behind the sun
how it blinds us in its haze and reflections
and the dark is always easier to deal with.
We are night-born creatures, you and I
We find our lifetimes in the silence of snowfall,
slave to the backdrop of three-hours-past-midnight
and the lack of noise you only find
in small towns like this one.
Still, in the soundlessness and absent light
we'll continue to find one an
Ive found a place to wait
The sun rises every morning I am here,
Over mountains and into the valley
gradually, beams through trees and buildings.
I have blues in my ears and cold hands again,
Though my coffee keeps them warm,
(one at a time)
and the flag decides if I can see,
unblinded by the light
shining over the ridge.
Some nights I'm here for hours,
through since midnight
wreathed in smoke, alone
I disregard my inability to breathe.
Oh, purple shadows and
train steam, rumbling, rambling black engines
golden cars rolling past
tell me this wooden bench will lure you forth
back to me,
what ever I may be waiting for.
I have cotton in my journal,
and a cigarette receipt
and I am sure there is a metaphor behind it
for the waterfalls and fire.
But it does not matter,
I've found a place to wait
And I've got something to wait for.
The train leaves in two hours,
Be there. (I will)
Of that, at least, I can be sure.
breathe deeper the mountain air
I find temptation everywhere
An invitation to stray
To give in
To absent desires and emotions.
I wish it was different,
That I could see you
Without falling, or flying
Through every wave of denial,
I wish you would come find me
Console my longing heart.
I feel you near and it's driving me
To the edge of Insanity.
Your withdrawal from myself is
Pulling the tension farther
Pulling the tension harder
Making this harder to
-Through rivers of salt, and oceans of mud,
vinegar wine poured in frost glasses
from mountain winds and shale and frozen breath
for fire and burning lavendar, and heated clay
passing levels for each step, higher, frigid altitude
beating drums in your direction,
beating lungs in your reflection.
[you make it harder to breathe]
there is a godI look at this blank page and see the infinite possibilities.
I am underwater.
Drowning in white,
fingers wrapped around the pen,
knowing its the only object that can lift me out.
the only source of lungs,
writing with whatever is left
from my faltering mind.
I wait for my deity,
golden eyes behind dark windows
and heels clicking on pavement,
smoke prevelant. fire in his hands.
cigarettes on the cold ground,
cherry still glowing, alone.
I can tell you he does exist as
another god in a lawless reality.
He is in the somber countenance
of every sinner,
in the shuffled walk of veterans
limping, broken, and alive,
a change behind their eyes.
There was a chain around my neck,
symbolic of his presence- gone,
where his own marks used to be.
It left scars. Like him.
Marking my belief, that soon
He will come back to me.
He is near.
I struggle with the feeling,
of tension spread between us
years waiting, longing
amplified, with every hour passing
and every mile descending
i promise i wont forget, the chain around my neckTell me how you wish to be forgiven
spill your lamentations to the floor
grovel at the feet of every sin youve ever spoken
and drill what prayers are left upon the door.
I know you feel so helpless,
kneeling for the smoke, for the burning trees
hanging another masochistic bullet
for the blood on your black sleeves,
in silver chains around your neck.
You carry a cross, I know
chrome, heavy, leaving bruises and
scars with every step, and every second
crucified to your chest in the irony
of your godless world
held only as a memory
for the irony of your godless years,
your endless years.
oh, my love, your endless fears.
I know you feel so helpless,
how you wish to be forgiven,
I know you carry your chains to feel bound
back to the earth, and to me,
I know your fears, and your lamentations
for I have heard them whispered in your sleep.
You walk through flames and come out unscathed,
dont think I have forgotten
what you come from,
in what fires of hell you were so mercilessly bathed.
I Dream About HerI dream about her, quite often, actually. It's been nearly two and a half years since I've seen her face to face, and it truly does break my heart when I remember the good times. She was one of my best friends, one of the greatest influences in my life, and someone who could make me smile. However, all good things must come to an end eventually.
Drugs don't just affect you, they affect your friends. When you've been roped into the bad crowd and refuse to turn to the people who love you most, you're going to lose everything you care about. Well, I cared for her, alright. We were nearly as inseparable as Sempai and I, hanging out nearly 24/7. Sure, there were fights, but every friend has a fight. It's when the line is drawn that things get messy.
In my dreams, I remember how she used to be, how fun she was, how silly she acted, and how she was just pleasant to have around. What happened? Why did she decide to go the way she went? To turn to lying, drug abusing, and overall not caring for
One last time. KristaXReaderFor music please listen
Highly recommended after the game scene though
"Two Kings!” Krista piped laying the cards on in the pot laying on my lap. She sat cross legged on the hospital bed with me. Sitting up straight and laid her cards face down in her lap leaning forward, now were both now down to one card. you looked up from my last card and glared at her. For such an innocent girl she had one hell of a poker face. you swallowed the lump in my throat and laid down my last card.
“One Ace.” you stated and crossed my arms challenging her to say it.
‘that’s it! the cat’s in the-’
“Bullshit!” She called out and flipped over the card that had just laid down….a queen,.
“Damn it Krista!” you shouted smacking the pile off my lap then pouted indignantly.
"Can't you just let me win for once." I asked. Krista giggled an
How to love a guy who can't love himself.How to love a guy who really doesn’t love himself.
Well first, there are numerous ways you can do this, so just sit back and listen.
Number one rule, tell him to drop his façade, abandon the stereotypes that society places upon him, find the real him, the core, so fragile and so easily able to be hurt.
When you find the real him, who he really is, then look him in the eyes, past all that buff, and all of that strength and mutter a few simple words. ‘It’s okay to cry.’ And when he cries, when he falls to his knees and allows his body to tremble for the first time in decades, you put your hands on his shoulders and say, ‘Everything will be fine’.
And when he looks up at you, with tears in his eyes, shaking out of either shame or anger, you just smile at him, and say ‘No’, not because he’s crying but because you know he’s threatening to close himself off again to the world, and put on that face that he fe
.things i've learned in
the last few months:
-friends are expendable.
-so is sanity.
-you can like girls and boys
and neither and either.
-it is possible to
exist while half your soul
is jutting out of your body.
-change does not help
-you can't bring back the dead.
-but you can hold the dead in your
arms when their eyes won't close.
-and when you make pacts with god,
remember that you're still upholding
so many promises with him in the first place.
-you're not suicidal, just human.
-maybe just a little less human than
-devaluing people doesn't
help your social anxiety.
-you can't run away from job
opportunities just because
you think a colleague is whispering about you.
-but you do get a choice on which job to take.
-and no, you're not so worthless that you have
to settle for a job you know you'll hate.
-and you do have a right to be paranoid.
-you don't have to write your sister.
RainAs the electric arc sizzles away like frying bacon, two pieces of steel are fused together into one mechanical mass. Its Thursday night, and for us its the last night of the work week. Weekend ahead, money in our pocket, endless possibilities.
But for now, there are 36" mower decks to run. Bright light on a dark night, smoke and sparks, and 8 hours of staring into a false star. The shop is filled with a light yellow haze, it drifts through the air like a ghost as we work away the hours till dawn.
It is warmer than previous nights, winter is coming to an end and spring begins. Its raining!
Not snowing, not hail, not ice that clings to all things, but the continual 'tap, tap, tap' of heavy rain, almost like the distant roar of a forgotten army.
Sparks fly and fill the night, the haze is stifling, creeping behind helmet and vale. Another hand crafted product is born, and ready for processing, on to the paint line and the day crew.
A hot steel plate that will be painted black, built up wit
Can I Just Say I Love You?Well… um… hello there. I didn't think you'd actually read this, but here goes nothing. So I sorta… you know… love you. Yea, I know it's strange to think about. Me of all people too. I just can't help be die a little inside when you say hi to me and walk to her. You know? I just kinda get a little jealous, but I'm too afraid to tell you I love you. So I wrote this note, hoping you'd read it somehow. So, why don't you just tell me you fell the same way? It would be wonderful to hear again. I know you are a little confused and I know this is strange. I'm not good a writing sonnets and I can't look at you in the eye except when I want you to see that I love you. So next time I see you, I'll look you in the eye. Then you'll know I mean it. Because I do. So, I hope I'll get a message from you or bump into you at the store.
20th of AprilIt was one of the finest houses, if not the finest house, one could ever lay their eyes upon, located in the more calmer and less trespassed districts in the city centre of Vienna. Adolf looked up at it. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt so low-class, and this, standing in front of an inanimate structure. He felt so puny standing before the Viennese, two-story, excessive city apartment, its prestige overwhelming the seemingly small man dressed in a plain everyday black suit and a navy-blue tie to go along with it, the fanciest he could find that was stuffed somewhere within his drawers, which complemented the colour of his eyes. His eyes were the only bodily feature he was personally quite fond of. Friends, family and others he had encountered would always remark about the magic and charm his eyes tend to conjure (interestingly enough this was mostly expressed by the female ratio). His shoes, also black, he had polished as best he could. He held his grey felt hat which
What does it mean to Love?"Immature love says: 'I love you because I need you.' Mature love says 'I need you because I love you.'" - Erich Fromm
Love is a word commonly used in relationships today. Does it really have meaning to it anymore? All the time I hear I love you from people who may have only been together for a few days to people who have been together over sixty-five years. The difference between that is the people who have been together sixty-five years probably truly understand and love each other while those who have been together a few days are probably saying it because it is the norm now. In today's society I love you is just as common as saying hi to someone. While it is great to tell the people you care for (especially the one who is truly the love of your life) I love you, it should have meaning and not said just to be said. Some people may say "I love you" all the time and actually mean it, but there are the people who just throw it out without thinking why they love that person. If you say
There is so much cynicism in regret
And so much sadness in azure clouds
and plum washed horizons.
Sweeping skies and
cherried burns beyond the atmosphere leave me blinded
I spiral every time I remember the sun,
branded in the walls lining my eyes.
[More charcoal on the fire-
run faster, my iron horse.]
I don't wait for trains-
screaming through timid valleys and fearlessly over centuried bridges.
Cast the mountains in their slurry,
(They live forever too)
so do you.
I keep your hurricanes hidden and
covet them until I can hold no more
And I too will scream over cast-iron bridges,
seeking sunlight over the next ridge
seeking solace over the next bridge
dropping ash and polluting trees with more...
and salt water.
With every stone I have ever skipped
I have hoped for a new outcome,
a longer trail of success,
carving valleys there too, in waterlogged earthquakes
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More