May 18, 2012 • 9 notes • Flickr / fridastenmark
sugarvirus: älg (by mon dieu!) Quote Me take thewords right out of my mouth pull them past my lips and through my teeth and pretend that they were yours all along.  I got a way with them  and I hope that they match your tone, just so no one gets suspicious and accuses you of vernacular plagiarism. You could use them in class when you’re late and need a good excuse or when your girlfriend says you don’t spend enough time with her. Because I’m real good at not giving a shit about that kind of shit.

sugarvirus:

älg (by mon dieu!)

Quote Me

take thewords right out of my mouth

pull them past my lips and through my teeth

and pretend that they were yours all along. 

I got a way with them 

and I hope that they match your tone,

just so no one gets suspicious and accuses you of vernacular plagiarism.

You could use them in class when you’re late and need a good excuse

or when your girlfriend says you don’t spend enough time with her.

Because I’m real good at not giving a shit

about that kind of shit.

(via habitable)

May 18, 2012 • 3,730 notes • quiet-nymph
The other day I had a dream, I died. I don’t know how I died or when or how old I was.  but I was an age of neutrality.  Not Old Or Young. But both.  I had a all the maturity and wit that I was ever going to have. And all the energy and curiosity that I have ever had. I was naked and in a place that was the world mixed together. Every rock and plant species all muddled up in a vast space Like all the paint colors thrown into one can. I had died and woken up millions of years later after the apocalypse. Everyone I knew was there.  And everyone else I didn’t know. The good, the bad and the ones of us in between. It was like the world had saved every soul’s energy and when the end came it was finally released.  The cork was taken off the champagne bottle and the pressure rocketed off into the ether. All of us were free from judgement, motivation and fatigue. We all enjoyed each other’s company and we worked and created without sloth We harvested to enjoy feasts without glutton. We held hands and had made love without lust. We gave respect without taking pride  and followed rules not enforced with wrath. and loved everyone we met without envy. It wasn’t utopia, It was tabula rasa. We were clean and forgiven by each other and the gods that we prayed to. It was if we had been purified after death by the Earth we were given. And then I woke up and it was May 18th, 2012. I was 20 years and 5 months and 18 days old.  My cat was there and I was late for class. It was my final day of my Junior year of college and all of my friends were leaving. I had gone on my first date with my friend Philip the day before. We picked dewberries in a field behind an elementary school.

The other day I had a dream,

I died.

I don’t know how I died or when or how old I was. 

but I was an age of neutrality. 

Not Old

Or Young.

But both. 

I had a all the maturity and wit that I was ever going to have.

And all the energy and curiosity that I have ever had.

I was naked and in a place that was the world mixed together.

Every rock and plant species

all muddled up in a vast space

Like all the paint colors thrown into one can.

I had died and woken up millions of years later after the apocalypse.

Everyone I knew was there. 

And everyone else I didn’t know.

The good, the bad and the ones of us in between.

It was like the world had saved every soul’s energy

and when the end came it was finally released. 

The cork was taken off the champagne bottle

and the pressure rocketed off into the ether.

All of us were free from judgement, motivation and fatigue.

We all enjoyed each other’s company

and we worked and created without sloth

We harvested to enjoy feasts without glutton.

We held hands and had made love without lust.

We gave respect without taking pride 

and followed rules not enforced with wrath.

and loved everyone we met without envy.

It wasn’t utopia,

It was tabula rasa.

We were clean and forgiven

by each other and the gods that we prayed to.

It was if we had been purified after death by the Earth we were given.

And then I woke up and it was May 18th, 2012.

I was 20 years and 5 months and 18 days old. 

My cat was there and I was late for class.

It was my final day of my Junior year of college

and all of my friends were leaving.

I had gone on my first date with my friend Philip the day before.

We picked dewberries in a field behind an elementary school.

(via gettinhighinthemorning)

May 18, 2012 • 1,952 notes • cavetocanvas
snowce Andy Goldsworthy, Sumach leaves / laid around a hole, 1998 -To be on the “precipice of greatness” is a dirty lie. It depicts greatness as having a beginning and insinuates that you weren’t great all along. I’m the same as you. I’m made of the same flesh and blood and hair and breath and bones as you are. We don’t all have two feet and two hands  or ten fingers and thirty two teeth.  But we all have a soul.  And its made of magic. And electricity and sunlight and the exhale of God. Molded with the same hands but assembled with millions of billions of permutations of parts. We all share the same rock  Sometimes we try to roll each other off. Like monkeys on the bed.  In the end we can’t have it all to ourselves. Mom will step in and make us behave Quit our fussing and fighting. But as all brothers and sisters are fond of doing we fight, we pull each other’s hair and we argue. We start wars as complex and vicious as “Hey! You stole my fucking hairbrush!” Or “Why can’t you pick up the goddam toilet paper off the floor?!” Sometimes I want to go in my room and shut the door and forget that any of you mother fuckers are out there. Because I have a better way of doing things. Because I like myself more. Because I don’t want to comprise my feelings. I can go outside and be comfortable. There are things that I don’t need in life.  I’m more creative and conscious I get along better with birds and squirrels, the trees and dirt.  My way is peaceful and honest.  I am the exception and perfect. Just like everyone else. We’re all going to have to realize that one day we will all have to communicate with one another. Like when our parents are dead and we’re all the each other has.  Take care of your siblings. And remember, I’m just the same as you

snowce

Andy Goldsworthy, Sumach leaves / laid around a hole, 1998

-To be on the “precipice of greatness” is a dirty lie. It depicts greatness as having a beginning and insinuates that you weren’t great all along.

I’m the same as you.

I’m made of the same flesh and blood

and hair and breath and bones as you are.

We don’t all have two feet and two hands 

or ten fingers and thirty two teeth. 

But we all have a soul. 

And its made of magic.

And electricity

and sunlight

and the exhale of God.

Molded with the same hands

but assembled with millions of billions of permutations of parts.

We all share the same rock 

Sometimes we try to roll each other off.

Like monkeys on the bed. 

In the end we can’t have it all to ourselves.

Mom will step in and make us behave

Quit our fussing and fighting.

But as all brothers and sisters are fond of doing

we fight, we pull each other’s hair and we argue.

We start wars as complex and vicious as

“Hey! You stole my fucking hairbrush!”

Or “Why can’t you pick up the goddam toilet paper off the floor?!”

Sometimes I want to go in my room and shut the door

and forget that any of you mother fuckers are out there.

Because I have a better way of doing things.

Because I like myself more.

Because I don’t want to comprise my feelings.

I can go outside and be comfortable.

There are things that I don’t need in life. 

I’m more creative and conscious

I get along better with birds and squirrels,

the trees and dirt. 

My way is peaceful and honest. 

I am the exception and perfect.

Just like everyone else.

We’re all going to have to realize that one day we will all have to communicate with one another.

Like when our parents are dead and we’re all the each other has. 

Take care of your siblings.

And remember, I’m just the same as you

February 23, 2012 • 165 notes • lafleurdelanuit
Outside dogs don’t mean nothing to nobody. Let’s roll around in dirt and rub scent on the trees Steal bones from the trash and fight other dogs. Sleep out in the rain and howl at the stars. Perch our snarling teeth in front of our lonely bodies Clean one another’s tired and dirty wounds. We have fleas. And dirty fur. And no manners. And so much love. Someone will take us in someday. Put a collar around our necks. And wash us down. Feed us. Love us as an inside dog. but for now and always my brother, There is love outside.

Outside dogs don’t mean nothing to nobody.

Let’s roll around in dirt and rub scent on the trees

Steal bones from the trash and fight other dogs.

Sleep out in the rain and howl at the stars.

Perch our snarling teeth in front of our lonely bodies

Clean one another’s tired and dirty wounds.

We have fleas.

And dirty fur.

And no manners.

And so much love.

Someone will take us in someday.

Put a collar around our necks.

And wash us down.

Feed us.

Love us as an inside dog.

but for now and always my brother,

There is love outside.

December 31, 2011 • 178 notes • glittertomb
cosmicforestpeople: By Dan McCarthy   Life is a Dream I don’t believe in you anymore. You were but a fever dream that I had one night where you had a tail and a mane. I reached out my hand to take a thorn out of your paw and you batted my fingers away. When I looked at the damage I had bled out grape jelly. My arms and face were sticky and purple. I sat in the dirt and tried to tempt out the caterpillars. They love sweet things, don’t you know. When such a surprise, along came the circus. Bright colored train cars filled with joy. They needed a new beast to battle Pierre, armed to the teeth with his whip and chair. Clowns rolled out jauntily two by two and the giraffes leaned their necks over to say howdy doo my gracious the many  my stars oh the clamor They yanked you by the tail and put you in the zoo slammer. I tried to fight them off but with my being covered in jam I was stuck to the ground and off with you they ran. For days I cried And for weeks I cried But then I saw you on the 10 o clock news and I noticed you dancing with the swans the pythons and the tigers too My tears turned to hot sauce and my sobs began sobbing in Spanish Why I was a fiesta for sore eyes you can imagine how embarrassed  This sticky little girl in a sticky dream world  tragically just was. When I woke up I remembered tequila and doing crafts on my bedroom floor. The ceiling had finished its twirling and I no longer had to vomit. Something made me think Dorothy and Toto and houses and striped socks but for the most part all I discerned is that I don’t believe in you anymore.

cosmicforestpeople:

By Dan McCarthy

 

Life is a Dream

I don’t believe in you anymore.

You were but a fever dream that I had one night

where you had a tail and a mane.

I reached out my hand to take a thorn out of your paw

and you batted my fingers away.

When I looked at the damage I had bled out grape jelly.

My arms and face were sticky and purple.

I sat in the dirt and tried to tempt out the caterpillars.

They love sweet things, don’t you know.

When such a surprise, along came the circus.

Bright colored train cars filled with joy.

They needed a new beast to battle Pierre,

armed to the teeth with his whip and chair.

Clowns rolled out jauntily two by two

and the giraffes leaned their necks over to say howdy doo

my gracious the many 

my stars oh the clamor

They yanked you by the tail and put you in the zoo slammer.

I tried to fight them off but with my being covered in jam

I was stuck to the ground and off with you they ran.

For days I cried

And for weeks I cried

But then I saw you on the 10 o clock news

and I noticed you dancing with the swans

the pythons

and the tigers too

My tears turned to hot sauce

and my sobs began sobbing in Spanish

Why I was a fiesta for sore eyes

you can imagine how embarrassed 

This sticky little girl

in a sticky dream world 

tragically just was.

When I woke up I remembered tequila and doing crafts on my bedroom floor.

The ceiling had finished its twirling

and I no longer had to vomit.

Something made me think Dorothy and Toto and houses and striped socks

but for the most part all I discerned is that

I don’t believe in you anymore.

December 31, 2011 • 922 notes • brocklefferts
brocklefferts: On behalf of the giraffe. 353 A Blessing A blessing from my brother Chief Red Clay on my wedding day went like this: You have found happiness in a man’s heart, little sister. You have found beauty in a man’s eyes, little sister. You have found strength in a man’s arms, little sister. You have achieved a paramount goal in a young woman’s life. We can see his love in you and your love in him. The two of you are flowers that bloom in the rays of each other instead of the sun’s.  You need nothing else in the world but one another’s embrace. The happiness he will bring you is unparalleled by anyone else. I glow at your success and your future. My Blessing on your name” But none of this is true. My wedding day came along as faithfully as my brother Chief Red Clay. Meaning it mounted a horse and rode far far away from me and my family. God willing, this blessing will be left un-uttered.  I search for love but it will not satiate me, I will not be quelled.  A partner is but only a partner in a greater hunt. Far from the prize.

brocklefferts:

On behalf of the giraffe.

353

A Blessing

A blessing from my brother Chief Red Clay on my wedding day went like this:

You have found happiness in a man’s heart, little sister.

You have found beauty in a man’s eyes, little sister.

You have found strength in a man’s arms, little sister.

You have achieved a paramount goal in a young woman’s life.

We can see his love in you and your love in him.

The two of you are flowers that bloom in the rays of each other instead of the sun’s. 

You need nothing else in the world but one another’s embrace.

The happiness he will bring you is unparalleled by anyone else.

I glow at your success and your future.

My Blessing on your name”

But none of this is true. My wedding day came along as faithfully as my brother Chief Red Clay. Meaning it mounted a horse and rode far far away from me and my family.

God willing, this blessing will be left un-uttered. 

I search for love but it will not satiate me, I will not be quelled. 

A partner is but only a partner in a greater hunt. Far from the prize.

(via pyrrhic-victoria)

December 11, 2011 • 12 notes
runningnakedthroughsprinklers: untitled by tlate hiin on Flickr. River Bottom Cold rocks cutting open our feet. I dip down into the green water. You say something about  going off the cliff naked  and if I’ll come along. The only thing I want is a  popsicle and to sit in the tree and air dry. I’m thankful that the fear of whats swimming around us balances  how perfect everything is. So plain, uncomplicated. Two kids playing. Its unfair the impossible that we’re achieving.

runningnakedthroughsprinklers:

untitled by tlate hiin on Flickr.

River Bottom

Cold rocks cutting open our feet.

I dip down into the green water.

You say something about 

going off the cliff naked 

and if I’ll come along.

The only thing I want is a 

popsicle and to sit in the tree and air dry.

I’m thankful that the fear of whats swimming around us balances 

how perfect everything is.

So plain, uncomplicated. Two kids playing.

Its unfair the impossible that we’re achieving.

(via runningnakedthroughsprinklers-d)

December 11, 2011 • 13 notes • justtheash
justtheash: Dead Tree on Flickr. A Song of Lightning From my blood, riddled with liquor and fire I sing a song for you. I want to crash down from the clouds and strike you.  Feel my energy coursing through you.  You’ll light up like a Christmas tree and fall to the ground in shock. The burn will follow from your heart to your feet.  This is my love. Do you feel it? You’ll hear my thunder and feel rain on your face. Wake up my moon and stars, if you’re still alive.

justtheash:

Dead Tree on Flickr.

A Song of Lightning

From my blood, riddled with liquor and fire

I sing a song for you.

I want to crash down from the clouds and strike you. 

Feel my energy coursing through you. 

You’ll light up like a Christmas tree

and fall to the ground in shock.

The burn will follow from your heart to your feet. 

This is my love.

Do you feel it?

You’ll hear my thunder and feel rain on your face.

Wake up my moon and stars, if you’re still alive.

December 11, 2011 • 3 notes • jeanlucgodzilla
jeanlucgodzilla: Pieta, 2005 by Rini Hurkmans Untitled 1 Long gone are the days of old heart break with chat boxes, facebook and skype. “I love you so much I don’t want you to leave… But I’ll be content with your digitally transmitted presence.” That’s bullshit. If you leave I’ll cry rivers.  If you die I will throw myself on your grave. Technology will not assuage my pain. Humanity weakens when we don’t know heartache,  love becomes casual and often. Its a beautiful warm, supernatural force that may move you and change everything. But it may also wreck, tear, kill and mame.  That’s why its just so special.

jeanlucgodzilla:

Pieta, 2005

by Rini Hurkmans

Untitled 1

Long gone are the days of old heart break

with chat boxes, facebook and skype.

“I love you so much I don’t want you to leave… But I’ll be content with your digitally transmitted presence.”

That’s bullshit.

If you leave I’ll cry rivers. 

If you die I will throw myself on your grave.

Technology will not assuage my pain.

Humanity weakens when we don’t know heartache, 

love becomes casual and often.

Its a beautiful warm, supernatural force that may move you and change everything.

But it may also wreck, tear, kill and mame. 

That’s why its just so special.

December 11, 2011 • 56 notes • nostalgicallyjaded
nostalgicallyjaded Cigarettes Play me a song in July Make it about cigarettes and I’ll give you a dollar. Sit on the curb and tell me I got nice legs. In a strange city Complete and kinda drunk. Outside the head shop that smelled like old pine cones.  I got serenaded by a bum.

nostalgicallyjaded

Cigarettes

Play me a song in July

Make it about cigarettes and I’ll give you a dollar.

Sit on the curb and tell me I got nice legs.

In a strange city

Complete and kinda drunk.

Outside the head shop

that smelled like old pine cones. 

I got serenaded by a bum.