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I hope that in the future they invent a small golden light that follows you everywhere and when something is about to end, it shines brightly so you know it’s about to end. And if you’re never going to see someone again, it’ll shine brightly and both of you can be polite and say, “It was nice to have you in my life while I did, good luck with everything that happens after now.” And maybe if you’re never going to eat at the same restaurant again, it’ll shine and you can order everything off the menu you’ve never tried. Maybe, if someone’s about to buy your car, the light will shine and you can take it for one last spin. Maybe, if you’re with a group of friends who’ll never be together again, all your lights will shine at the same time and you’ll know, and then you can hold each other and whisper, “This was so good. Oh my God, this was so good.

Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You (via lifelister)

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I’m meeting boys who like Charles Bukowski and they all want to do brutal things to my body. They tell me they buy a bottle of whiskey whenever they get one of his books and don’t stop reading till they’ve gone through a pack of cigarettes. They blow smoke in my face and say, “He was the outcast king of L.A. Did you know that, huh?” “Yeah, yeah, I know.” I say,“He’s great.” A new boy gives me a worn copy of On the Road and thinks he’s being original. “We should explore the road together. Would you like that, baby?” I take a sip of my water and look away. Yes, I’d like that, I think. But he’s drunk and imagining himself sixty years earlier, in the back of a bar, sweating to the sound of live bop. Still, I prefer him to the hungry boy that devoured my shirt and said, “You have a tattoo? What’s it say?” ‘mad to live?’ What, are you angry about living? Aw, I’m just kidding, come here, let me take off that bra.” The next boy I kiss doesn’t read. I ask him to come to a bookstore with me and he stays outside, sighing. He has no interest in words. He has no interest in me. I am thankful for him. For a few weeks, I am able to shed my habit of thinking obsessively and become a duller, rougher version of myself. I dump him when my fingers start turning imaginary pages in my sleep. I go on a date with a boy who knows I like to write. He calls himself a fan of mine and swears he’s read every word I’ve put down. “You’ve got this voice that’s very modern, but also so classic.” I choke on my water as he says, “I read you to fall asleep.” At night, I listen to him pant metaphors and compare my mouth to the sea. One day, he stumbles across my journal and finds nothing about himself in it. “You don’t really love me, do you?” I shake my head. There is no use pretending anymore. He has read my poems about the boys I want to drown in me. His goodbye leaves my hands covers in ink. He wanted me so badly to be the sea, when all I am is a girl who writes poetry. I try my best to become poetry. I take a bath and stain the water with black ink. I cut my hair in a motel sink. I cry for people I have never met. I start smoking cigarettes. I use words like “presumptuously” and talk about “post-modernist new wave.” I walk the streets at 4 a.m. and smile at people coming home from a rave. I wear sunglasses indoors. I carry a 500 page volume of poems wherever I go. I drink coffee instead of water. I talk about the “advantages of using film and listening to records.” But no matter how hard I try, I am not the sea. I am a sunken ship that has drowned in everyone who touched me.

I Am Not The Sea | Lora Mathis (via lora-mathis)

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Link to your portfolio?

www.robtemmerman.comSite isn't fully finished but you can find a curated portfolio there!

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YOU ARE TRAPPED ON THE EARTH SO YOU WILL EXPLODE

WHAT URGE WILL SAVE US NOW THAT SEX WON’T?

PUT FOOD OUT IN THE SAME PLACE EVERY DAY AND TALK TO THE PEOPLE WHO COME TO EAT AND ORGANIZE THEM

SAVOR KINDNESS BECAUSE CRUELTY IS ALWAYS POSSIBLE LATER

DANCE ON DOWN TO THE GOVERNMENT AND TELL THEM YOU’RE EAGER TO RULE BECAUSE YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOOD FOR YOU

THE BREAKDOWN COMES WHEN YOU STOP CONTROLLING YOURSELF AND WANT THE RELEASE OF A BLOODBATH

SPIT ALL OVER SOMEONE WITH A MOUTHFUL OF MILK IF YOU WANT TO FIND OUT SOMETHING ABOUT HIS PERSONALITY FAST

MOTHERS WITH REASONS TO SOB SHOULD DO IT IN GROUPS IN PUBLIC AND WAIT FOR OFFERS

OUTER SPACE IS WHERE YOU DISCOVER WONDER AND WHERE YOU FIGHT AND NEVER HURT EARTH IF YOU STOP BELIEVING THIS YOUR MOOD TURNS UGLY

DIE FAST AND QUIET WHEN THEY INTERROGATE YOU OR LIVE SO LONG THAT THEY ARE ASHAMED TO HURT YOU ANYMORE

IF YOU HAD BEHAVED NICELY THE COMMUNISTS WOULDN’T EXIST

TRUST VISIONS THAT DON’T FEATURE BUCKETS OF BLOOD

IN A DREAM YOU SAW A WAY TO SURVIVE AND YOU WERE FULL OF JOY

IF YOU’RE CONSIDERED USELESS NO ONE WILL FEED YOU ANYMORE

WHEN YOU EXPECT FAIR PLAY YOU CREATE AN INFECTIOUS BUBBLE OF MADNESS AROUND YOU

YOU ARE SO COMPLEX THAT YOU DON’T ALWAYS RESPOND TO DANGER

MEN DON’T PROTECT YOU ANYMORE

WITH ALL THE HOLES IN YOU ALREADY THERE’S NO REASON TO DEFINE THE OUTSIDE ENVIRONMENT AS ALIEN

WHEN SOMEONE BEATS YOU WITH A FLASHLIGHT YOU MAKE LIGHT SHINE IN ALL DIRECTIONS

FINDING EXTREME PLEASURE WILL MAKE YOU A BETTER PERSON IF YOU’RE CAREFUL ABOUT WHAT THRILLS YOU

USE A STUN GUN WHEN THE PERSON COMING AT YOU HAS A GOOD EXCUSE

IT IS IN YOUR SELF-INTEREST TO FIND A WAY TO BE VERY TENDER

THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR WILL BE SECRET

THE CONVERSATION ALWAYS TURNS TO LIVING LONG ENOUGH TO HAVE FUN

WHAT COUNTRY SHOULD YOU ADOPT IF YOU HATE POOR PEOPLE?

USE WHAT IS DOMINANT IN A CULTURE TO CHANGE IT QUICKLY

PROTECT ME FROM WHAT I WANT

YOU ARE CAUGHT THINKING ABOUT KILLING ANYONE YOU WANT

IT’S HARD TO KNOW IF YOU’RE CRAZY IF YOU FEEL YOU’RE IN DANGER ALL THE TIME NOW

YOU CAN’T REACH THE PEOPLE WHO CAN KILL YOU ANY TIME SO YOU HAVE TO GO HOME AND THINK ABOUT WHAT TO DO

THE FUTURE IS STUPID

HIDE UNDER WATER OR ANYWHERE SO UNDISTURBED YOU FEEL THE JERK OF PLEASURE WHEN AN IDEA COMES

SOMEONE ELSE’S BODY IS A PLACE FOR YOUR MIND TO GO

WHEN THERE’S NO SAFE PLACE TO SLEEP YOU’RE TIRED FROM WALKING ALL DAY AND EXHAUSTED FROM THE NIGHT BECAUSE IT’S TWICE AS DANGEROUS THEN

IT’S EASY TO GET MILLIONS OF PEOPLE ON EVERY CONTINENT TO PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE TO EATING AND EQUAL OPPORTUNITY

GO WHERE PEOPLE SLEEP AND SEE IF THEY’RE SAFE

HANDS ON YOUR BREAST CAN KEEP YOUR HEART BEATING

TURN SOFT AND LOVELY ANY TIME YOU HAVE A CHANCE

IT IS FUN TO WALK CARELESSLY IN A DEATH ZONE

YOU LIVE THE SURPRISE RESULTS OF OLD PLANS

LET YOUR HAND WANDER ON THE FLESH TO MAKE POSSIBILITY MULTIPLY

IT IS EMBARRASSING TO BE CAUGHT AND KILLED FOR STUPID REASONS

SHOOT INTO INFINITE SPACE TO HIT A TARGET IN TIME AND CALL IT INEVITABLE

YOU HOVER NEAR LOVELY UNCONSCIOUS LIFE-FORMS THAT OFFER NO IMMEDIATE RESISTANCE

PEOPLE LOOK LIKE THEY ARE DANCING BEFORE THEY LOVE

BODIES LIE IN THE BRIGHT GRASS AND SOME ARE MURDERED AND SOME ARE PICNICKING

SILLY HOLES IN PEOPLE ARE FOR BREEDING OR ARE FROM SHOOTING

YOUR MODERN FACE SCANS THE SURPRISE ENDING

Jenny Holzer - SURVIVAL, 1983-1985

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Draw a monster. Why is it a monster?

Daughter by Janice Lee I think about this quote a lot.   (via melisica)

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Grand Canyon from mid-June, 2015