July 2012
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note: aimless drive, be home late
i’m the perfect mess to get out of here, too soft to stay not wise to leave
or so they say
i’m the sleeping giant in the closet, not wise to stay too soft, it seems
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poem vs
Falling asleep in the sun makes me crazy, makes me think— mutated, grown-back brain cells, just similarly killing me—
simultaneously hating this hazy sameness, engulfing us, making us
padded cells, making us soft-celled softsoap and buttered, buffered hope.
We don’t even smell good, but we’re memorable down to every pore.
Falling asleep again, usually am, I lay out in...
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“How many political idealists does it take to change a lightbulb? Political...”
– Isaac Brock
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baby-bluesedan:
everybody’s best friend - hazel
highlight of yesterday: my mom asking why opening ceremonies were starting at 1am
today is a day for an L cruise if i ever saw 1
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[[MORE]]
One thing that’s hard to swallow is being alone. Being by yourself but wanting it that way, sometimes wanting that extra second and sometimes not, and then ignoring for a week, and then drifting together again like waves, and then living beachside resort paradise life-style, and then no style, no structure, no seriousness left.
I want someone like the biggest wave because I catch...
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Sporting Events at the 2012 London Olympics →
nevver:
Skullduggery
Buggery
Arsing About
The Wank
Taking the Piss
Scuttlebutting
Having a Laugh
Sodding off
Shagging
The Half-Arse
Knackering
Gap Minding
today’s level of desperation: rode bike with broken gears and a flat
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wip
i watch you go in all directions
i start to cry which is i take a big risk there i go
because one of your faces might see but the other three hundred-thousand won’t be looking at me
you’re rarely looking at me.
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brokenworldmedia:
Dads - Get to the Beach
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“We lie best when we lie to ourselves.”
– Stephen King, IT
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“Ever wonder what you really look like to other people? You will never, ever,...”
– Elizabeth Trundle
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“Words, after speech, reach
Into the silence.”
– T. S. Eliot, from “Burnt Norton” in The Four Quartets
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hopure
i hope you’re pure
i hope you’re i hopure—
i hope purely for you and i forget myself
i hop along and wrong-turn happy hoping
i hate hope.
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let's see how rusty
You taught me without touching me you taught me from far away and you didn’t know you were touching me.
Distantly dreaming to touch what you touch, I wish you.
For of and in.
Back around the circle and backhand swish, backlash last wish sounds like wind.
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MY CAT JUST ATE MY EARRINGS. NEW ONES! THREE OF THEM!
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███ ██ ███
My legs grow ten times more sensitive than I know I am half as sensible twice as scary nothing nice
Let’s grow our hair together.
I know you well enough to dream about you—
It took me a while to understand that people you end up in their lap you, fucking, fuck them and you fucking hate them and they smell just like you, because they’re so in to you.
And you’re nauseated...
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new bmsr <#
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superbowl1996:
kittydothedishes:
...
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mood: eraser
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i fell off of my bike whilst tryin to bike down a huge mountain in ireland
flipped over the handlebars and
yeah
OTHER THAN THAT i had the time of my fuckin life and i’m moving to london a.s.a.p.
what if i never posted poetry on here ever again
and i became an alcoholic
i drank every night
oops
well
i have my kitty and real shower and the best bed of all time.
AMURRICAAAA
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