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Burn it all, he said.

Burn everything you’ve ever had, especially trusted behaviours. That includes what you think you enjoy, your old friends, your rearing memories and experiences.

Now, sit down and realise that every person you meet from now on could be your next potential lover, best friend or even parent. Hell, it could even be your god.

Unsourced

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When all the other social media have let you down, that’s when you turn to tumblr. The void of your inner self.

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Politik

Runar Sögaard får besök av Jesus Åkesson inför riksdagsvalet 2018. Hajleluja.

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I don't do

I don't

A grab north of knees

Don't

An ethnic callout

Don't

Wet yourself again, did you

A nappywearing crybaby, its what you are

Don't

Mediocre human

Don't

Dead forgotten

Don't

A fight for beliefs

Don't

Echoes emerge from silence

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Transit

To wade in the abyss

The sensation of feathers on still oil waves - mile spread

A shivering yet glistening cool

Slowly up and down

Along the overcooked flesh

Legs cruising the thick

Mind loose in transit

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Don't stretch it

In position

On the rack

Stretched between

Intellect and drive

;

Future and now

;

Plan and play

;

Bore and burden

-

Eject me off the rack

With my intelligence intact

Propelled by my drive

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Emotional relapse

When one finds oneself in a state of indifference, one relapse into emotional awareness. It ain’t pretty, it ain’t fake. 

Leading tremor hammering, inhabit with dependency. 

Two roads

A road from  here

or

a road to nowhere.

The bright lit neural sky

a pathfinder induced with lies

Leading to, leading away. the struggle. life decay.

Beware, warning - do not cross. No paths beyond. For the win for the loss.

Sober sky as dark as eye. 

Supernovas shall seize to hide.

Routes to explore in a new light

Never would’ve thought it’d start tonight.

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Tumblr understands me. On Tumblr I'm lonesome.

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a simple question

What’d you prefer? 

An intellectual drunk. 

or 

A sober fool?

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“You’re encased in a disastrous matrix of fear and loathing. You’re just a function. You’re just a function of the universe. You think you’re free. You have no more freedom than a cell on your body. The universe isn’t a democracy. It’s a monarchy. You’re just a function. The closest you can get to freedom is anonymity. Fame is the worst prison of them all. Because then people have ideas about you and ideas about your life. And if you’re not what they expect then they will fuck you up. Kanye West is the biggest prisoner on this planet. Your only chance at freedom is to stay on the fringes like me. Burn all your bridges. Who cares? You’re all lying to each other. You all hate each other more than you love each other.“

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I AM ART

I am art.

Often times misunderstood 

overlooked

a work in progress

underappreciated and valued all in the same breath

I am art.

-M.M.

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(from Danger Queen Dreams, Amanda Oaks)

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there’s nothing that you get to keep forever we build moments still with movement and silent with sound

the shadow of the past just as heavy as the uncertainty of the future

where are you going?   it’s okay if you don’t know

a younger you in a collapsing scaffolding of bones steering home

but where is home? it’s okay if you don’t know

they never told you what happens on the other side but how can they when no one has made it back home

and gods don’t like instructions find faith only to lose yourself

tomorrow approaches forever and nothing is real

what do you wish you didn’t know? like the glitches in your relationships

you’re so numb i couldn’t tell that you’re alive

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for N.

on the shore of my dream we don’t struggle                          so much. the moon pulls                more fiercely, yes, so that      our blood rises,            yes, but we still manage                      to speak                                 in low voices while the ocean sends cellophane             fingers                   to wrap around our ankles, intent on dragging us awake.

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As we were walking - discussing, the impact of our new-bred passion on one and another she stopped, she stared and she spoke: 

It’ll be intense, she said. 

It’ll be a dive off a twin tower.

Fasten a seatbelt around your heart yet let your lungs pass the singing wind, she said. You shall have your stomach tremor in a humming murmur for all the moments you even dare to think about thinking about me. And I, I will succumb to the echo of my love in the fierce and hollow between the bones and cavities of your being.

I will no longer be me. You will no longer be you. We will in a part of eternity exist as we. 

She cried. Yet I could not. Tears dripping from her nose as a mixture of salt, oil and vinegar breaking at the very arch of her breasts then fragmenting, leaving an intriguing marble on her chest. 

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I'm really fucking yearning for some intellectual stimuli from another human being.

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