Been working on some blackout poetry today.
Hopefully I’ll get them up and scanned sometime this week!
3 days ago · 1 note
I’ve been thinking over and over again, and I can’t help but think wistfully that someday, maybe someday if I ever get married or whatnot, that I’ll end up being in a marriage like the Fitzgeralds’ and I actually kinda hope that happens. They might have had their problems, but they loved each other regardless and stuck it out to the end.
A marriage full of writing, the rose colored glasses of alcohol, and bickering sounds kinda lovely to me right now, to be honest.
5 days ago · 0 notes
Actually I suspect you can skip the first 8 if you just do the last one.
2 weeks ago · 5,853 notes · Source · Reblogged from neil-gaiman
Not even two decades old…
not even two decades old
and i’m sitting here with my feet on the wide planks, my back on a chilly wall
my eyes on the map with roads burning away, turning into ash
names of places and memories of faces shattering
here i am here i am here i am
there i was there i was there i was
where i shall be where i shall be where i shall be
not even two decades old
and life has dealt me the hand of a corpse, fresh eyes boring into me
as if to tell me that someone out there has me by the short hairs
instead of freedom
is freedom just an illusion—under that mask, is it the political face of
corruption corruption corruption
and is it the political face of darkness and being caged like a bird?
not even two decades old
and i miss you, i miss the person i used to be
and i miss you, i miss the person i fell in love with
and i miss you, i miss the person i held too tight
and i miss you, i miss the person i drowned in ignorance
not even two decades old
and i feel like i’ve seen too many lifetimes before my eyes
too many sunsets to make up for the sunrises
too many broken wings to dream about flight
not even two decades old
and i’m already worn out past the point of no return
3 weeks ago · 0 notes
Our knowledge has made us cynical; our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery, we need humanity. More than cleverness, we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost.
— The Great Dictator, 1940
1 month ago · 4 notes
((Twelve Ways to Leave Your Lover?)) Another WIP
She brought me back, once again,
grace in her courtesy,
and the beginning of the year.
She begs me, once again, like always,
to never leave her. I promise her,
once again, that I won’t leave her.
**This is a poem based on the twelve months of the year—I’ve been working on this for several weeks now and I’m somewhat stuck on it.
1 month ago · 0 notes
I’m going to get this as a tattoo soon, methinks.
1 month ago · 2 notes
A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.
— Oscar Wilde
1 month ago · 1 note
waldeinsamkeit (of German origin) — does not have an English translation, but means something along the lines of “the feeling of being alone in the forest”.
1 month ago · 0 notes
Things to do this summer:
- Write at least one prose paragraph or poem every day.
- Invest in a few moleskines for different art projects.
- Learn origami.
- Work on the beginning of that novel I’ve been thinking about.
- Make at least one collage every two weeks.
- Work on a series of canvas mixed media projects.
- Experiment with different medias, such as soft/hard pastels, colored pencils, watercolor, acrylics, fabrics, etc.
- Design a “clothing line” of some kind.
- Read one book every two or three days.
1 month ago · 0 notes
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