Especially at this stage. Given that the big, initially crucial, foundation-type things have been established and accounted for, it’s the little things that should matter.
and they’re rude. That’s just how they fucking are.
Rude and honest.
None of that fake, forced manner shit.
And they were used to being pushed in the dirt
And used to being hungry
And having to make the best of what they fucking had.
They’ve made do with being oppressed
And do with being forced into line
And made do with not having enough to eat
And made do with a fated life of struggle.
So their emotions and relationships with others were the only thing they had to thrive on. That was their fucking currency.
And in their relationships with others, they were rude, honest, emotional, and at the end cared for each other deeply.
And somewhere down the line, there was me.
(Choose bullets with which you punctuate, not ones with which you shoot!)
^Verbose new peace slogan
Because it’s the first time I’ve felt like I could depend on somebody.
But I can’t depend on things to stay the same I guess.
(And my relationship with it)
As a balance between capture and release.
Because I think that’s what I try to do in my life, too.
Just capture and release…
And I think it’s the ways of these processes that really make an ‘artist’
Because I see the best of them as more shrewd in the way they capture
And more genuine and profound in their means of release.
They feel deeply as they do and carry it forth.
If you’re reasonable and kind in the way you ask for something
And you make it known that you really want it,
You’re so much more likely to get it.
Which is a big part of why I’ll be so glad to give it.
People’s relationships with the past.
Some of them are so overeager to just pretend that they had no part in it or something? “Oh, last year? Yeah, lol sorry. That wasn’t me. Person you’re thinking of, he moved to Djibouti.”
And others have got their nose so far up in there that they can’t even tell what the fuck’s going on around them…
And it’s like, I think it’s really important to keep in touch with parts of your past every so often (people and all) because I feel like it keeps you in check — a sort of “don’t forget where you came from” deal. Because I mean, sometimes we’ll change for the better and sometimes it’ll be for the worse and it’s nice to be aware of that.
But if you’re going to let your past (or the past of those around you) dictate who you are and what you do, then holy shit. It’s kind of like fighting a war that’s already been done and fought for, no? Better to fight for your future.
are like devious thin, long fingers with which you keep clumsily knotting the thin thread upon which my clock travels like a glowing impulse.
Your words by hearts that are now shrunken
And voices that are now silenced.
Is a reminder that I have a different sort of reality.
And sometimes that becomes difficult to deal with.
And it was funny because it was about something completely ridiculous
But it was the final straw type of thing…
Regardless, it was awesomely therapeutic.
And this is the latest I’ve been up in… I can’t remember how long.
I probably reek of chem.
Pandora is the shit.
Sweet dreams <3
