Moving !

tumblr has won the love battle. follow me there....

myself

sunday night thought medley

Am I naive to believe that power can one day be viewed as an infinite matter? That it is not a tangible thing; so this scramble to keep this perceived power is just a construct. So if I have more power, it doesn't mean that you have less. So that one day the scars of this game will not be littered across the bodies of women.

"all i need" radiohead

Melodies

I feel like I have a choice. Not between the sadness or the glee but between an acceptance I can understand. I used to think it was between allowing myself to feel sad or not but it’s too difficult that way. It is so tiring lying everyday. I just can’t be a brick wall anymore. I mean, I love the brick wall. It’s great; I don’t have to tell anyone anything. I am crumbling though, under the weight of my own secrets. So, I don’t want to do it anymore. Thank you, brick wall, for shielding me. I appreciate it. I am beginning, (slowly) to understand the hardest thing I have ever tried to fathom. It is physically impossible for me the fix the unfixable, so there needs to be an end in sight. I’m not sorry you ever met because I would have never been introduced to my little buddy, my eternal partner in crime. I am sad though, because it’s over. I might never say goodbye to that sadness. I can however, meet it, shake its hand, and make an awkward comment about never finishing my undergrad. You know, a standard introduction.

Because the thing is, we are all just people (please save the clichéd sighs of agreement). Trying so hard to just do that thing called ‘happiness’. The textbook version of how evolution is potentially supposed to mirror. You were my parent and now you’re not. You were my guidance and now you’re not. It sounds terrible, at first and feels even worse. But it’s okay, it might just take pressure off. I don’t need any of those figureheads to give me the answers. The answers might exist and they might not. I just realized I don’t need them.

I just need you to love me.

nearly a new year.

We all know resolutions are pointless and it also doesn't help that sentimental writing is largely created through sentimental music. So what sort of truth are we left with then, at the end of the day?

Hopefully, we can all project and feel like we are heard and then there might be reception. Well at least a recognition of reception so maybe at one time we might feel like we exist within our own language. It could feel good. It might.


night. xo .

Dock moments

Remember that Levi's ad where that boy took off his pants? Here is my reply.

My summer story?

I discovered the intricacies of the human body, starting with my own. The limits of love and the walls that begin to grow when the touching becomes too much. I discovered the smoke in the city, the rest and the finishing of the mundane. The rest of the world began to breath in the thickness. The restrictions in my lungs only brought fourth some sort of rest in the spirit. This race against some clock that has no impact on my own validity.