I’m obsessed
with the way your tongue touches your teeth. I know it’s super weird. But it doesn’t work for me like it works for you. I’m extremely shy about showing my tongue. When I stick it out, it has to be at an angle
but holy god, it’s wild how your flawless tongue is widely exposed for the world to see and to mingle with
anyway I think it’s freaking irresistible
the way your tongue touches your teeth


Harsh realities of losing hope

Worn out and walking around
Trying to open my eyes. All around, there’s the blind leading the blind and chickens with their heads cut off; whatever you want to call them.

I’m caught in a slew of nothingness, or just too many things happening all at once. There’s no fine balance,
but a brutal divide.

Cruel capitalist world for someone whose heart is set on riding a hay wagon. You may think “that’s so 1800s,” but I developed roots from parts of the world that still do that. That’s where my heart is… in the simple things, primitive basic work, hand sewn clothes… and the utter desire to feel human. I wash my hair with rye flour to do that.

But I’m hit with the harsh realities that people have been hit with
During the time of the agricultural revolution
Or the industrial revolution
Or the capitalist sweep and the degradation of everything.

I’m standing still in the moving crowd. The business people are actively, actively seeking to destroy the environment for imaginary money and fast cars. The civilian stomach growls,
waiting to be fed cheese and bacon. Majority of the world sleeps inhaling the comforting scent of synthetic compounds, and the rest of the world is headed there.

In days like these I feel hopeless. Like an ant holding onto a massive leaf. An insect trying to crawl against a landslide…
A drop of sunshine during mid winter.
A handful of crowd against a multi-billion population.

What I have to say is so meaningless.


The constellation traveler

You fly away, you slip away
You hide in mirrors and evening stars
Their reflections show, who you are
In colors, and winds, and in the arts
You’re magic man
You lure delight
From dawn ’till dusk
Day and night
You swim in veins
Like stormy tides
There’s more to you
Than anything here

You dance with light, slip in wine
You dazzle bright, and shame the sun
There’s more to you
Than anything here
You fly with shadows
And stay in mirrors


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