Now, 100 followers may not be a lot in the standards of most tumblrers but I am so excited and thankful to have reached this milestone in the manner I have. I appreciate the support of each and every one of you, and I really mean that. As I pursue my career in writing I justify the stuff I post on here as what I write for “fun” but truthfully the support and feedback I get from my followers has been a huge part of why I continue on the path I’m on. So thank you - to all of you and if there is anything I can do to show you that I appreciate you, let me know.
Fuck, look at it now -
so much more beautiful than when it was yours.
Its like it made the sun shine differently.
Everything was funnier and you lived
your “fuck it!” mentality
instead of just preaching it.
Fuck man, just look at it now -
the year you turned 18.
Walking. Funny thing is it not? It always has just a hint of familiarity - regardless of where you’re walking. Like you are always walking that same path between work and home and you take it for granted that that tree that always makes you smile is the Colosseum. The rabbit that let’s you get just close enough to touch before it runs back into the hedges is your first love. And then you get home and sit down, thinking about what you are going to do with your life.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
And because he hated it so much
the little cog broke free -
no longer just a piece
spinning in a machine.
But still, all he could do was spin…
"Self Contained Underwater Cunnilngus Apparatus"
I hope you like lewd poetry.
The last time I left my universe
I found myself in this world
where there was nothing
but an endless ocean -
and at its origin it met a desert
- an endless beach.
There were no “people”
just ships - and they all lived on the fringe.
Some sailed along the shore
flying across the beautiful ocean,
wind always at their sails.
Some sailed the sea of sand,
watching as white sails passed them by
and the ocean broke at their feet.
The last time I left my universe
I found myself in this world.
Fine dressed gentleman,
upon their own stage.
They are their own audience
yet they are frustrated
that no one is listening.
As knife met skin
all troubles were forgotten.
The millions of dead,
made so by sickness,
erased by the millions,
made dead by sword.
The history of human life -
everything is made better by the
cut, carve, stab, or impress.
It is how we move through time.
Like a blade in snow -
is knife meeting skin.
When my mind was young
I could draw
a perfect line.
When they told me what was
expected - I listened
and I hated it.
My line took
whatever shape they wanted
and I lost sight of point B.
When I could not draw anymore
they abandoned me -
A ship without sails,
I knew only the course
I had been given
and not the destination.
And after she finished,
she fell down
And he cried as they
at the night.
It all just slips away.
"Why are you crying?"
"I feel stupid"
"I feel stupid like everyone else.
I can’t help but feel important
but I know I’m not.”
"But you ARE."
He cried as they
As I was applying to take night classes to get my high school diploma, the guidance counselor helping me with my registration asked me what I have been up to since I left high school. I said “I’ve been going to college and working.” to which she asked “what have you been going to school for?”
"Have you seen your English marks?" She scoffed "What do you plan on doing after?"
Actually, I’m going into scriptwriting.
"Can you actually write?"
I believe so.
Okay - how about I write you something in the next five minutes? And you can tell me if it is good or not?
- and this is what I wrote her -
And she began to read it, not knowing the words would find there way under her skin. She had “expectations” and she suspected the young man to fail to meet them.
She expected to be emotionally moved, linguistically impressed, and overall transported into the brief universe he had created with his pen. A construct that had been built for her by others.
She knew that she may have to settle for mediocre and accept that he was still on the path of learning - she knew nothing.
For after five minutes of looking down at his page he stopped and showed her all he had written - and it read
"Do you know a good place in this school where we could fuck? ;)"
- and when I was done writing I slid her little notepad and pen back to her and watched her quietly for the 35 seconds she gave it -
"What the fuck is this?" She was evidently upset. "Do you know this could be taken as sexual harassment?" She did not approve of my proposition. "You said I could tell you if this is good or not?"
Yes, but you already have.
"Well its trash and I think you should reconsider your fucking options."
- Then I apologised for upsetting her and explained that I was merely trying to illustrate that I could envoke an emotional response. This calmed her down a little, but the the rest of our interaction was very rushed and cold -
I hope you enjoyed this little chapter of my life.
"I was talking to my old professor
and he said that everything in life can be compared
to the food that we consume.
He said that love is like hot-sauce.”
I’m not disagreeing with you
but we don’t really consume hot-sauce
It just sort of… Makes it into our mouths,
as we consume other things.