Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Lilac bleeding lust

Lilac bleeding lust
I'm not craving what I must

In my garden
I don't speak
I just listen
I collect

Lilac bleeding lust
I'm not craving what I must

What I take
is what I keep
Plant again
Then I leave

Lilac bleeding lust
I'm not craving what I must

In my garden 
you may step
I will listen 
I will collect

I will hide among the trees
Play this game and make you miss
Make you do what I don't dare

Lilac bleeding lust
I'm not craving what I must








Sunday, July 26, 2015

Enough helium to keep me up all night

I wish that days remain the same, 
in a sense 
that I remain as content
and as grateful
maybe even more.

I wish that I remain untouched;
untouched by time 
and all the weight it bears;
and by the misery, oh the misery
and the Saturday night desperation
and the ghosts around me;
untouched by loneliness

I wish that I always remain unrestrained, unsettled,  un - envious of however much others have. 

I wish that days remain the same,
because I do not have the need to think about
how they could be better days ahead
I cannot imagine
such a thing. 

Even though they always get better.


Thursday, July 23, 2015

And the sky turned purple

The feeling slowly fades away. Next is the calm. 
Is it a never ending valley? 
Or just a bridge?
Can I dance on it?
Or will I go mad again, once I cross it?
Was it a cry for help?
Or the beginning of a connection?
Was I begging for escape?
Or for your approval?
Was I smitten by my excitement?
Or was it really you?
Is this the end?
Or just a bridge?




Thursday, July 16, 2015

Nick Cake

My newest obsession is some silly, overpriced, fake brioche thingy. 
I was listening to Nick Cave, and now I'm listening to Taylor Swift. I also accidentally wrote Nick Cake and now I am laughing alone. I also came to the conclusion that it was an apt title for this. This is such a wrong thing to do right now.
I have been embracing life lately, big time. Lemons and all. I feel ridiculously grateful and kind of annoying.
Yesterday a friend asked me what a human is, and I told him that we are all moon dust trapped in a body. 
We were formed when the dust collided with the soil, a long time ago, a day the moon sneezed.

So, in retrospect, what do you have to worry about? We are all moon snot after all.




Special thanks to my friend who came up with "moon snot".

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Galactic limbo

There is a door

sometimes I peek through

sometimes I dare to open
and drag out this box
filled with all that's left undone
but I cannot seem to bare
the weight
of
the never ending pile,
so I hide it back
and I guard it well;
I care
that it doesn't get lost 
that other people won't touch it
and distort its form
which still fits

or that it doesn't stain
what I chose;

as we add little pieces to it;

our own Venus 

that always comes second
and I wonder
when will we go for the moon?




Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Whatever-ing

Since there's been too much art here lately (even rhyming) I decided to fuck it up. Because I haven't ranted in a long time.

A book on why I do things the way I do them. Because you're stupid, done, no need to waste pages.

I don't understand the phrase "and then life happened". I mean I understand it sounds cool and I must have used it myself in the past, but I don't understand why it's always being used for something negative, like... what was happening before that negative thing? How do we call that? Why do I need to know that? Who cares? What..?

I feel very weird saying something that contains the words "my whole life, in my life etc.". When is the appropriate age to start saying that without sounding... you know, not old enough to say that. I should put a question mark there, but I feel like it takes away something. And I just learned that "question mark" is a two-word word. Word. Woooord.
 
The Hunchback of Notre Dame, the cartoon, is probably my favorite movie. 
I could be a more serious person. I could also be a less serious person.  
I am neither.

I'm going to bed. 


This gargoyle looks like a monkey. That's what I think.


Sunday, July 5, 2015

Open the door

I love to steal these little pieces of other people's realities. These irreversible  moments of raw honesty. 
Their discomfort. 
Their awkwardness. 
Their smile. 
The way they look at me.
Moments that seem untouched by pain. 

Effortless. 

Then, when time stops. I seek these moments. The ones that will scar me forever.
No matter how simple.

I could make this rhyme, or say something really pretentious and poetic.

But then it wouldn't be effortless.