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A place

An idea

A phrase

“Test your luck”

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Les Amoureux, by Émile Friant (1888).

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A Bouquet of Roses, 1879, Pierre-Auguste Renoir

Medium: oil,canvas

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Met art Pandora b

Stacy Q

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Salvation

My heart is full and it overflows.

I try to gather it up then spread it amongst the souls.

It slips off my fingers yet through my eyes one can look to see the pain inside.

Alone I am in company the dealers curse haunts me.

Out I looked as a sailor in a birds nest lost at sea.

Land ho land ho, pleasure to meet you Emily.

The water was still and I saw myself.

I fell into the iridescent reflections, a world without need.

Through the fog within I journeyed wearily.

Yet through yours I found salvation.

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https://www.pexels.com/@cottonbro

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https://www.stuffmakesmehappy.com/2013/08/25-stunning-photos-of-shipwrecks.html?m=1

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I could go on for hours telling you all the ways I think you’re lovely inside and out. Lately I haven’t been behaving naturally around you, I’ve been holding back these things I want to say to you, to do to you. I had noticed in all these photos of you there is a side that hasn’t been captured; the side of you that addresses disrespect, that stands up to evil men, grips and fires a 45 then laughs, makes girls that do tik tok dances jealous because they don’t have what you have. Because they haven’t lived through what you’ve lived through and if they had they’d be dead. I see your strength, fortitude, and astounding fucking tenacity. Why do you think you have to provide me anything more than your sweet company? Don’t you know my time with you has been a reprieve from the only thing holding me back, the loneliness I feel although I’m around people. Your company is more than enough, and my loving isn’t made of bars but hot air that blows in whatever direction you want to go. All I’ve ever been trying to do is give you wings so that you feel freedom like never before, and fuck you until you see infinity. You can go your own way, always, but your way and mine are the same. Now go ahead and tell me I’m falling for your bullshit.

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Nobody ever understood our relationship, I don’t even think you did. You wouldn’t let me try to tell you. I never told you about the loneliness I feel, every moment, year after year. The one thing holding me back. What’s the point of life without love, understanding, someone to share it with. I go out with people and have many friends and acquaintances. I had decided I most likely wouldn’t find someone that could understand me. Somehow I found it within myself to still go and show others love although it could never be reciprocated. I moved forward regardless, seeking only to fulfill others and it’s been very appreciated. I met you, and immediately knew, you knew these same things I know. My time with you was such a reprieve and my pursuits became effortless. I knew they would. Despite you showing red flags, your darkness and pain. Despite you telling me that you’d break my heart and I knowing it to be true. Hovering my hand over the eject button knowing I should push it. All my friends wondering how I was so dense to have not hit it yet you thinking the same. I sat with you flying towards the sun until I got my wings singed. I was never desperate, the path was clear. However all this seemed better than going back to my abyss. I took it to the point I could no longer go without losing myself, waited until the last second to say goodbye. For you painted, played guitar, listened to the same music as I, had the same sense of style and appreciation for the superior ways of the past. ��We really out here trying to improve everyone’s lives”. Yes Lovely, we tried and we did. You had come across the same philosophical truths I had, that nary a person does. Albeit just a few steps behind me in your maturity. You told me you needed to find yourself, then you found me; damn near the same thing. Your entire way of being was also mine. You understood me and this unfathomable pit of loneliness was filled for a little while. I tried to tell you everything you’re looking to find I had already found. That I could show you, but I guess some things you just have to find on your own. That attention addiction you told me you have, tell me it’s not based on the same yearning to be understood. That’s just how bees are. You tried to keep me from the subject of adieu, change the topic, stare into the digital disparity of your phone. Never even looked me in the eyes. I left, the loneliness had already set in before I arrived. I lay in bed and wish for morphine, because it makes one feel as if they’re being hugged. It’s good that it’s hard to come by. I’d fall into that addiction like I fell into your thighs. Now I’m back to the old me, I’m fine. Just a nihilist with a few goals in mind. No empathy or sympathy to be shared, I gave it a shot but my words and actions were lies. Cold, mostly dead inside, not a fuck to be found far as the eye can see. Ironically this version of me is similar to you now, but this is your first time... “unbreakable”. I keep moving forward, it’s temporary. I’ll go back to spilling my soul out onto canvases and casting them out like messages in bottles hoping someone; anyone will see them and know at least a part of I. again I fade to black. Goodbye.

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A problem is when the internet came out companies were able to deliver products remotely. Then they realized they could just avoid customer service. Now we’re in this machine where companies do things we don’t like, we don’t even think of filing a complaint because the hassle and we know it won’t be seen anyway. Yet we keep on using the service cause all the competitors are just the same. Used to be you talked to a person at the store for every business. Those employees and the owners reputation was on the line. Community is lacking these days. So many people in the cities, everyone stopped caring about manners because what’s the point of being nice to someone you’re never gonna see again. (Sarcasm)

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Cagnes Landscape with Woman and Child, 1910, Pierre-Auguste Renoir

Medium: oil,canvas

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Birth Of Venus, 1879, William-Adolphe Bouguereau

Medium: oil,canvas

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Summer, 1909, Frank W. Benson

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SPIRITED AWAY 千と千尋の神隠し 2001 | dir. Hayao Miyazaki

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