Book Dedications Are So Tender Here Is This Piece Of Art I Made For An Audience Of Thousands. But Really

sorry i cant hang out tomorrow im celebrating the death of a 2123 year old roman politician with a bunch of psychos on tumblr. yeah its gonna be all day

did someone say "hay"? 👀

Digital Age.

Sometimes I feel like I'm living in a cage

Or should I call it #theDigitalAge ?

And I must tell you, it's loud in here.

I see and hear everyone too much.

Being called out by memes, and

Feeling left out on trends.

Photoshop making grass a little greener

While I filter out my blues.

I send you LOL with a straight face,

Use "Panic" as my wordle guess,

You see my carefully curated stories,

Unaware of the ones I hide from you.

Trained to fake a smile

Faster than the shutter speed.

While living like the protagonist

Of Franz Kafka's dairy adaptation.

Tired of looking through this glass cage.

Aren't you sick of this Digital Age?

Oh, Who am I kidding! You've already moved on,

To double-tap the next thing.

Starry Night ⭐

Lying down on our grassy lawn,

Stars arranged like they're drawn,

Little fingers intertwined,

Playing on loop Seeing blind.

Then, you stand up to light your cigar,

That's when I see a shooting star.

I see your face through lighters flame,

And realize both are the same.

(04.12.20)

Attempt at a prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting 's December prompts.

“Hey,” he said, half-asleep, “what were you before you met me?”

“I think I was drowning.” A pause.

“And what are you now?” he whispered, sinking.

I thought for a second. “Water.”

@the2headedcalf / On Love, Alain de Botton /  @tilthat / Céline Sciamma / Twitter: Nightshiftmp3 / Twitter: Thepartypope / Portrait of a Lady on Fire / The Clean House, Sarah Ruhl / The History of the Band-Aid / weird-facts.org / 

Finding that one scene in a book that you love to read again and again because you just can’t get over it is the best part of reading in my opinion

Jumin is gonna get his nose broke lbr he probably can't fight for shit

A Vampire Fever Dream. 👀

Centuries ago, one chilly winter night,

You smiled, held my hand in yours to leave behind,

Memories that twists my heart like a dagger,

While I wish my every sigh to be the last one

Since then I searched those amber eyes everywhere,

The color of maple leaves during the fall

I searched for you knowing that you are nowhere

Until I met someone who understood my pain.

Years passed away, and my companions with it.

I stayed the same, and so did our memories.

The only immortal things I've come across.

The living me, and the intangible us.

Now centuries later, this chilly winter

With this lovely human curled up next to me

I feel mortal. Not alive, just plain mortal.

Every second prized, every moment precious

With those same amber eyes, like a setting sun

One that threatened to burn me eons ago.

Have I wished for you often and hard enough?

That you had no other choice but to come back.

“Mais, vrai, j'ai trop pleuré! Les Aubes sont navrantes (But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking.)”

—

Arthur Rimbaud, 

Le Bateau Ivre (The Drunken Boat)