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Vallejo
Guitar
The pleasure of suffering, of hating, dyes my
throat with plastic venoms,
but the bristle that implants its magic order,
its taurine grandeur, between the first string
and the sixth
and the mendacious eighth, suffers them all.
The pleasure of suffering… Who? Whom?
who, the molars? ( Read more... ) -
more of the same
My boyfriend makes dinner for me from recipes from Moosewood, and doesn't let me clean afterward, even when I offer. After dinner, and beer or wine or pot, we watch a movie or make art, inevitably get naked, love on each other. I go to sleep and he holds me tight all night, whispers sweet things in my ears, kisses my sweaty, 2 am forehead. In the ( Read more... ) -
Imagine
You are curved like the ring that I have worn around my finger for seven years. I feel naked when you are not wrapped around me, and lonely when you are forgotten. You are not beautiful but you hold all the meaning of my life, and no matter how distracted I get, you hold on ( Read more... ) -
Five to Forget
I still lose my mind over you at least 10 times a day.
It doesn't mean I love you or want to be with you or that I'm not happy, just that no matter what, I carry the loss of you with me.
The unbearable lightness of being.
There is nothing more loud and palpable (and heavy) than regret. -
(Untitled)
Go with the people.
Live with them.
Learn from them.
Love them.
Start with what they know.
Build with what they have.
And of the best leaders,
when the job is done, the task accomplished,
the people will all say: “We have done this ourselves.”
-Lao Tsu, China, 700 b.c.
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31 days
744 hours, 44,640 minutes, a full moon, a menstrual cycle, a new moon, a music festival later. spring has sprung without him and summer is wrapping it's warm arms around the outside world and it still looks the same only more lovely and i still look the same only a little more aged, but somehow i/it feels different, less beautiful, less intense ( Read more... ) -
I, Anonymous
Title: To The Girl Who Left Me The Week After My Friend Committed Suicide
What do you think? Totally publishable!
It's actually written, although it, well, errs on the side of eviscerating and downright cruel. Normally I would shy away from such public displays of hatred and anger, but I think this just might be completely deserved. -
For Mick
There was a part of me no one saw but you. Although I fought it to the teeth, I was an outsider. You could tell, because so were you. I learned to embrace a part of me that I hated, learned to love it because you loved it. I always wondered how you found me in the middle of myself, in the middle of my own self-reckoning, in the middle of the khaki ( Read more... )
