avoiretothenoir
come here often?
106 posts
For photography and writing
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
avoiretothenoir · 5 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
7K notes · View notes
avoiretothenoir · 5 years ago
Text
Never-ending love does not exist
Kisses from the past dismissed
   And two lovers will simply coexist
Never-ending love does not exist
Father’s caress turns to fight fist
   As children resist
Never-ending love does not exist
Long ways down the waiting list
   Mental images of motherly faces drift
Never-ending love does not exist
   We are more than this 
1 note · View note
avoiretothenoir · 5 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
I’m not really concerned about boundaries. I just follow my conscience and my heart. Follow your heart. That’s what I do. Compassion is something I have a lot of, because I’ve been through a lot of pain in my life. Anybody who has suffered a lot of pain has a lot of compassion.
4K notes · View notes
avoiretothenoir · 5 years ago
Text
The Average Alcoholic’s Relationship With His Calendar
   Memories float through the mind- disconnected from faces. Playing with no sound, the reel of film spins endlessly. Clipped together with no rhyme or reason; they must have had the burn marks cut out. 
   My smile drops in the midst of the conversation. Another date forgotten- another story told to someone who was there. Flowers could not mend the wound of a forgotten anniversary. As if I could afford them. 
   Birds leave nests so early; to find better and be better. But does the nest feel the low resting sting of jealousy? Are sharp teeth barred without thought through biting forms, formed of secrets as sharp as blades?
   Calendars are posted in every room of the house. But sometimes the dates fail to add up. What is not written are the reoccurring apologies. The headaches in the morning and stumbling out of bed. 
People are ruled by their calendars. And I can’t make sense of mine.
1 note · View note
avoiretothenoir · 6 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
90K notes · View notes
avoiretothenoir · 6 years ago
Text
I am constantly bothered by the lack of simplicity in this time. Maybe my head is stuck- caught up in a logical fallacy of the idealized past. I am haunted by a history I cannot remember. But I know it's there. I see it when I'm taken out to learn how to 'protect myself.' Holes ripped in a close proximity dead center tell the story of my blood. Violence is a birth right in this family.
0 notes
avoiretothenoir · 6 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
15. almost- static preview // code
features:
customizable picture in sidebar
up to 5 slide-out links
easy to customize with everything in the “theme options” section - no need to go into the actual code :)
tips:
try to keep the title short, and make sure the picture is portrait-oriented
please like or reblog if using :)
239 notes · View notes
avoiretothenoir · 6 years ago
Link
Just recently organized my mixtape for Hotline Miami’s ‘Jacket.’ So happy 4/20; smoke some and come back to Miami for a while.  Best listened to in order and an 8 second crossfade between songs. 
23 notes · View notes
avoiretothenoir · 6 years ago
Link
Hey for everyone out there who likes my Preacher mixtape, I just recently cut it and cleaned it up a bit to reprise it.  It still has the same overlying vibe of the comics on top of AMC’s content but now it sticks more closely to the show without all the fluff I had in it before.
4 notes · View notes
avoiretothenoir · 6 years ago
Text
Tarot Poker
Hands won’t sit still during conversation,
  shuffling cards with a reckless sense of passion
I deal them out in conversations with common passersby that I mistake to be ghosts. 
My faucet leaks sluggishly through beers, 
spilling the stories of those charming specters hanging around me;
  forgetting that I’m not sitting at a table with them
   playing cards
1 note · View note
avoiretothenoir · 6 years ago
Link
I published my Night In the Woods mixtape on 8tracks!!  If you would also like to give it a listen on Spotify, you can listen to it on shuffle or in order. (Best with a 9 second crossfade if you have premium either way!) 
28 notes · View notes
avoiretothenoir · 6 years ago
Text
This is so cool!! Thank you so much for all the hard work put into these!! I really love seeing the interpretation of my writing put into something so meaningful as music (I actually make a lot of mixtapes myself).  Sorry it took me so long to respond- I wanted to wait until I could properly listen to them!
concept playlists // brutally honest types of people 
writer- obsessively listening into other people's’ conversations when it interests them- not paying any attention at all when it doesn’t, unorganized as hell, twenty notebooks with only a few pages used, speaking out their mind even in the worst possible places (i.e. “thats fucked up” to a teachers face), sitting on the floor frustrated surrounded by crumpled pages- getting overly defensive when anyone tries to suggest a better idea for their works
fighter- brandishes injuries like trophies instead of learning from them, getting hooked on the feeling of the first time they try to punch their father- as soon as a fight breaks out between them, the urge to swing kicks in like a drug, spends their time with the wrong people and it starts to show
band- feels so homey in a garage that they should just start sleeping there, doesn’t listen to what anyone’s saying, gets extremely anxious if they don’t have any music playing, very very picky about music and condemn others on their choices, excellent at making people feel excluded (even if it isn’t intentional)
monopoly- old fashioned as fuck. not in a good way., competitive as living hell, NO ONE WANTS TO PLAY MONOPOLY WITH YOU YOU SLAG, really good at math, speaks without thinking, tends to isolate themselves until all of a sudden they want to be around people right now
flowers- moves from person to person like that, the people around them thinks the two are really close (they’re not), feels extremely passionate about things, very expressive with their hands, very well-spoken (almost to an intimidating level), isn’t mad often but fucking snaps
church- gossips religiously, spends most of their time in the bathroom, tends to corner people into conversations, considers themselves really good at giving advice (chances are they’re fixating on one thing about someone and disregarding the rest), fixates on other people to forget their own problems, the sound of boots/heels on wooden floors, has a Default Posture that becomes a red flag to everyone around them, thinks that because of their “moral code” or religion their faults suddenly don’t matter lollipop- can’t accept peoples faults, has a really childish sense of humor, tries to help obsessively (hint: not everyone needs to be fixed), sheltered, extremely passive aggressive about everything they find unsatisfactory (hint: they don’t want your fucking help), feels excluded in everything, doesn’t understand most popular or even old pop-culture so they fixate on really really obscure shit, follows socially acceptable morality to an actually toxic level to the people around them
based off of this post by @avoiretothenoir
201 notes · View notes
avoiretothenoir · 6 years ago
Text
Cheated Out of Reckoning
Since the fall of society, man has walked the Earth with no guide to teach him from his wrongs or his rights. No true sense of divine inclination to creep under his skin, pressing itself into his very bone marrow. When man walked to the tallest building, there was no subconscious fear, causing his muscles to scream no! No! This is not right! When the man made his way inside of the tallest building, he soon learned it was not at all the tallest building. It was the deepest. The building stretched its limbs far, far down into the center of the Earth- or so it felt. The man had never seen anything like this and the knowledge drove him mad with the passion to peruse the answers.
There was nothing that would stop him from remembering the incident, so he continued to launch himself into a fury; delving into all the books he could get his hands on. If he could not read the tongue they were written in, he would learn the language. He felt as though there was something right before him.
‘Was it under his eyelids?’ Was the thought he pondered, his head drooping down, down, down to the table below him. The man would never know, for the only time he was able to study them, he had fallen victim to the harsh indifference of death. The only truly simple answer the man had found in all of his research- all of his searching.
0 notes
avoiretothenoir · 6 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summersnow - Collection | life.by.linus
Location: Småland, Sweden
15K notes · View notes
avoiretothenoir · 6 years ago
Text
Types of people: honest version II
Everyone really liked my 'types of people' its my most popular post except it was all me being angsty about my own faults so here's some other commonly grouped faults you emotionally repressed bastards
Bottle- don't make me think about thinking, something as sudden as sneezing might just break them down to tears, locally known as "chill guy" but it's a fucking facade, aches constantly, snaps at the ones closest to them. in really personal ways that fucking hurt
Pier- adventures all the time (even if they have to drag you into it), tends to manipulate people on accident, looks at the world as a game, changes accordingly to suit the field, tends to make their friends mildly uncomfortable with "daredevil" stunts, hyper fixated
chalkboard- thinks they're going to 'change the world'/supports that mentality to a rididiculous degree, people tend to hate them because they're extremely privlilged, starting to think they take AP classes just for bragging rights, opens doors way too fucking fast. nothing you can say as soon as you open that door can make up for how you opened that door buddy, not everyone in a room has to listen to everything you say
smokey- relates to people's terrible dad's on a scary level; when people say 'i hate my dad' and explain why, maybe try not saying "oh me too," would it kill you to offer some comfort some times?, won't learn how to cook, or get their licence, buys ridiculous graphic t-shirts
aesthetic- so 'with the times,' lives life by the aesthetic, complete and utter hypocrite and has no idea, can you read longer than short proverbs about nature?, fucking indecisive or wants their way
28 notes · View notes
avoiretothenoir · 6 years ago
Text
Types of People: Honest Version
Okay so im sick and tired of all this ‘types of people’ and its really soft shit. Don’t just tuck all the nasty shit about people under the fucking carpet okay
How about:
Writer- obsessively listening into other people's’ conversations when it interests them- not paying any attention at all when it doesn’t, unorganized as hell, twenty notebooks with only a few pages used, speaking out their mind even in the worst possible places (i.e. “thats fucked up” to a teachers face), sitting on the floor frustrated surrounded by crumpled pages- getting overly defensive when anyone tries to suggest a better idea for their works
Fighter- brandishes injuries like trophies instead of learning from them, getting hooked on the feeling of the first time they try to punch their father- as soon as a fight breaks out between them, the urge to swing kicks in like a drug, spends their time with the wrong people and it starts to show
Band- feels so homey in a garage that they should just start sleeping there, doesn’t listen to what anyone's saying, gets extremely anxious if they don’t have any music playing, very very picky about music and condemn others on their choices, excellent at making people feel exuded (even if it isn’t intentional) 
Monopoly- old fashioned as fuck. Not in a good way., competitive as living hell, nO ONE WANTS TO PLAY MONOPOLY WITH YOU YOU SLAG, really good at math, speaks without thinking, tends to isolate themselves until all of a sudden they want to be around people right now
Flowers- moves from person to person like that, the people around them thinks the two are really close (they’re not), feels extremely passionate about things, very expressive with their hands, very well-spoken (almost to an intimidating level), isn’t mad often but fucking snaps
Church- gossips religiously, spends most of their time in the bathroom, tends to corner people into conversations, considers themselves really good at giving advice (chances are they’re fixating on one thing about someone and disregarding the rest), fixates on other people to forget their own problems, the sound of boots/heels on wooden floors, has a Default Posture that becomes a red flag to everyone around them, thinks that because of their “moral code” or religion their faults suddenly don’t matter Lollipops- can’t accept peoples faults, has a really childish sense of humor, tries to help obsessively (hint: not everyone needs to be fixed), sheltered, extremely passive aggressive about everything they find unsatisfactory (hint: they don’t want your fucking help), feels excluded in everything, doesn’t understand most popular or even old pop-culture so they fixate on really really obscure shit, follows socially acceptable morality to an actually toxic level to the people around them 
224 notes · View notes
avoiretothenoir · 6 years ago
Text
what does your soul look like?
Valentina’s footsteps fell heavy against the wet concrete, creating a drumline to the soft humming of neon. Los Angeles was a surreal place for her; like trying to maneuver through the back alleys of a dream. The buildings were tall and mimicked the twinkling light of the stars. When did men think they were divine enough to create their own sky?
She stopped at a tall building, each window falling perfectly in line after another, and sighed. She hated this part. The flys buzzed around her, frantic at a new imposer. There was a clatter and when she turned her head she noticed a man sitting, pressed against a wall. His smile was as frail as the rest of him, ready to shatter at any minuet, and when he reached his hand out to her she shook her head. “Not yet…” She felt her mouth spill the words, like the sticky froth of a beer. She closed her eyes and let her breath calm. A great indifference washed over her and the lights became much dimmer. When she looked down at her hands, she had to strain her eyes to see the outlines. She began to make her way up the stars. Ghosting through the apartment complex, she no longer had to admit answers to lonely souls.
The door was open when Valentina got to the room, allowing her to make her entrance as a gentle draft. Her eyes fell on two bodies, intertwined within each other on a crooked mattress. It was still seventy degrees, but they looked so cold… His hair was a mess and his eyes lonely, staring blankly at the ceiling, and sunken into dark skin; puncture wounds littered his arms as if stamps- physical imprints of the past. The thought that he was struggling to see the real sky slipped across Valentina’s mind- but she waved it away. It was never that poetic.
The girl draped beside him looked much younger- fresh to the scene. Valentina couldn’t help but think of how those marks would stay with her; how hard it would be to escape from that past. Would she think of him every time she looked at her arms? Valentina sighed and allowed her hands to penetrate through his chest. She didn’t have to rustle around- his soul was close to the surface- ready to leave.
‘Now?’ It seemed to say to her.
She didn’t have to reply but allowed herself to hold it close.
There was an echo of soft crackling of voices in the background- Valentina knew them well as police. She looked around. There was no one standing at the door, no changes in environment. They were not for the two on the bed.
She returned back the way she came, taking each step carefully. Outside, she stalled to put the soul in her bag. It was a warm night and it seemed a shame to miss it when this may be the first he could truly take it in in… however long.
A powerful voice drifted across the alleys. Valentina allowed herself to be drawn to it, as were the moths, slowly materializing herself back into the warm air. There was a small crowd gathered around a tall man with a brilliantly bright white shirt against his dark skin. He spoke with a voice of cool assurance, his hands following his eyes, roping in the onlookers. Many of them as dark as he felt their voices coincide with his, a melody of praisings, while others stood closer to the outlines and stayed silent.
“In the beginning,” the man started up again, “there was love.” Each word dripped in some sort of ichor, Valentina felt herself compelled to listen. “Where is that love now, brothers? Where does your love end, sisters?”
A gentle humming of ‘mm!’s sounded off.
“Magnificent, never ending love... This is what we need on the streets! We are all incarnations of love!”
They replied with their newfound infatuation brewed by his speech.
“I possess no great greed! I give my love to you!” Valentina turned her head slightly, she could feel the power of his energy churning inside of the audiences chests. It was akin to the warmth of the neon, a buzzing that rings through the head, droning out the thoughts. A dizzying nicotine high. “I am the Magnificent! We are all-” he allowed himself to fall against the wall, his arms spread like a large swan, “the Magnificent!”
Valentina allowed her feet to carry her away from the crowd. It saddened her to see such power in numbers… When she knew they would never share the same passion when she had to carry them in her arms. They would become weighed down by their dreams. It was rare to find one that remained as strong.
She allowed herself a last look and her eyes latched onto the preachers’. He gave a wide, full grin. He pointed to her and hollered, “I will be seeing you!” He raised himself from his spread position and grew as a tree might. “I want to know what my soul looks like.”
3 notes · View notes