adambombvilivus - Tumblr blog

[adambombvilivus]

Being told is not learning; the trial is the lesson.

[adambombvilivus]

I may yearn for endless things; I may yearn for such great joy and pain, wisdom and peace.

The presence of this yearning is, in itself, one of the greatest gifts from living.

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You decide to hike up a mountain that is infinitely tall. You’ve heard it’s worth your time because you can see literally everything while on the climb.

Halfway up the mountain, you pass by someone coming down. They tell you, “Congratulations on making it this far! No need to keep going, you’ve seen it all already”.

You ask what’s up the other half of the mountain and they say, “Absolutely nothing”.

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We are all changed by different things, but, we are all changed.

It will be okay in the end.

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Fact is, tragedy will never abandon us

but I will never call it my friend.

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Everyone has a problem with gambling until they hear you’ve won even just a bit

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If these walls could talk, oh, the stories they would tell

but

why would you expect them to tell your story? To take your side?

If these walls could speak, perhaps they would speak of the material came from

of the places they were stolen from.

Although, realistically speaking, if walls could talk, they would probably be confused and say something like, “Help, I’m stuck!”

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I wonder why you wonder why I defend my cowardice so bravely; but what else has kept me such long company? Bitter company like most others, yet kept me alive when even reason had failed.

The idea of loneliness too, though I’ve never been alone in my life. A poem of longing can reward me greater than all the effort I have ever given, gave.

These blessings, and silence too.

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When memory feels like a fever dream-What soul is there?

When childhood feels like a story you read online or heard verbally or a show you watched-What trust is there?

When confusion is familiar in a particularly ironic way-What reason is there in proving?

What does hope for existence mean? When the future feels like trying to recycle nostalgia-

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Just because it scares you, does not make it fit to be feared.

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The denial of reality is doom for the mind, but never hesitate to question reality. Only the second is the path of understanding.

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What she did

A monster of love, that is what she was

To teach the world to feel truly, that is what she wanted

You cannot know what love is unless you feel the pain I have to share

Every monster has an innate understanding of agony; it is like a best friend sometimes

It is a very, very special gift, to be born with a wound in your soul, perfect for sharing

Naked emotion is the smut that everyone freely creates, yet all reject

Your love will not be wanted if it comes with putrid sadness

Please, let me show you my agony, is what she said

Nothing brings us together quite like misery

In your chest, a rift; your soul, a void; your mind, confusion

Fear became as an intimate relative beyond words

And you open your eyes to see a horror, a pain like you have never known before

There was the sound of endless souls, not screaming, but crying

Tears in amounts to define the blueness of a planet

Only when it all dried up could you finally taste the flavor fresh water

Her ugly hand giving you hydration; remember what she did

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You gotta think twice about the hate you give

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another heavy handed symbolism moment: my mom has a potted sunflower in the kitchen. because it is a sunflower, it keeps turning towards the light from the window. my mother keeps rotating it so it faces inward because she wants "to see its beautiful petals and have it really brighten up the space!" . the sunflower is visibly wilting .

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I’m no different than most others, to be quite fair

and most wish to be a hero.

Daydreaming of what blessing or power or gift we would use to make the world in our image.

I imagine, in moments of emotion, how I wish I could exude an aura of love and peace. I wish I could be a force for joy everywhere I go. I wish that every theater I sat in could make the movies better. I wish that no human could harm another in my presence. I wish that all around me were granted great bravery to be honest, and to cry. I wish all who walked by me took a little bit of my gift with them to spread the wish of love.

And I am reminded of a phrase I came up with when I was in high school; a time when maybe I was more, or maybe less cynical.

If you want to be something tomorrow, you must become it today.

Fiction fulfills fantasy of flying and fighting fearsome foes. Stories succeed in sharing tales from other worlds that, in all honesty, I am too cowardly to venture.

I am reminded by harsh reality that everything I truly wish for, and want and need and deserve

I must work for it. I can be all that I need to be, but I must not forget that I can be.

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What beast made us this-no

How did we become this-no

When did we get tricked

-convinced to be afraid of each other?

Strangers can be friendly and open; where there is no risk, there is no threat.

Are our minds such a force that we must be wary of speaking it?

We, called family, and friends; too worried to be honest(whatever that means).

Let’s be honest, we are not a threat. When I hear gossip about one, and then one’s truth.

Imagining confrontations before they happen, and wishing they were more positive in my head, but I do not know if there is any true hate here.

Just remember years past, or maybe not so long ago, where we used words to antagonize each other, usually behind backs.

And I remember it always but,

I just want to know when we lost out human nature with the ones we used to have a home with.

[adambombvilivus]

Don’t let anyone take advantage of the fact that you want to do the right thing; especially when you do not know how to do the right thing.