amateur-savant-blog - Tumblr blog

[amateur-savant-blog]

Borderline immortal, I might fuck around and live forever If only for a moment I could get my shit together Sick of scripting a similar sentiment with different letters Asking all the family and friends “Hey, you get the message?”

“No.”

Fair enough, didn’t think so Misunderstood from the hair cut down to the gene code Here we go, back to the drawing board Snap to another night, ax to the oligarch Dad, whatchu calling for? Ex on the other line, “Whatchu call me darling for?” Uhm… goodnight

Every time I hear a dial tone I can’t help but to feel I'ma die alone So I’m ducking calls and dialogue, SMS to dial up Read the DMs, but reply to none Aren’t I fun? Barfly buzzed, on the wall watching I give a part time fuck then I’m non comment Non responsive, all impulses, and as dull as pulses after an overdose of OxyContin

but I have Naloxone I am a lost soul Nah, I’m just haunted jaundiced, John Doe, hot shit a hot head and a hot mess Got a Heart Shaped Box that’s a locked chest My stream of conscious feels like a Loch Ness Could’ve been more, or a lot less That thought gets into my skull like it’s lodged in

-I.Z.

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person: you come across really chill

me: yeah i suppose i am

my constant, unending, internal monologue: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

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Euan Macleod Figure carrying skeleton, 2015

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“Stop Running” - (n.d. / Oil on canvas) - Mia Bergeron

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Me: I don't have the energy for this

Someone: For what?

Me: *gestures vaguely*

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murderer: any last words? me: thanks

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Marie Chapuis @mariechapuis

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Darío de Regoyos (Spanish, 1857-1913)

The Beach of Almeria by night, 1882

Oil on canvas, 120 x 90 cm

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Shadows - 170128

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Son Of a Bitch Everything’s Real

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therapist: how are you? me: fine how are you

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I could cry all week, sink into cryo-sleep Dreams where I dive off peaks Like a lonely widow would Indoors smoking indo by an open window, looking Up and at the skyline and night lights of this small town God found abandoned or lost down at the bar after hours Hours after you had all but gave up, and the passion soured To sweet relief, a brief reprieve and some solace Now I’d love to see your ego slip like Freude, no schaden The autumn sun rose and I saw it Won’t pretend I was up that early just to watch it I was still up, filled up on a lager While even the first of the songbirds were yawning

I fell asleep feeling nauseous I missed my number when they called it I fell too deep and I lost it I haven’t felt a thing in the longest

I’m Haunted

[amateur-savant-blog]

Regina Nieke.