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its waking life

Aug 15 '13
"And I want to play hide-and-seek and give you my clothes and tell you I like your shoes and sit on the steps while you take a bath and massage your neck and kiss your feet and hold your hand and go for a meal and not mind when you eat my food and meet you at Rudy’s and talk about the day and type your letters and carry your boxes and laugh at your paranoia and give you tapes you don’t listen to and watch great films and watch terrible films and complain about the radio and take pictures of you when you’re sleeping and get up to fetch you coffee and bagels and Danish and go to Florent and drink coffee at midnight and have you steal my cigarettes and never be able to find a match and tell you about the the programme I saw the night before and take you to the eye hospital and not laugh at your jokes and want you in the morning but let you sleep for a while and kiss your back and stroke your skin and tell you how much I love your hair your eyes your lips your neck your breasts your arse your and sit on the steps smoking till your neighbour comes home and sit on the steps smoking till you come home and worry when you’re late and be amazed when you’re early and give you sunflowers and go to your party and dance till I’m black and be sorry when I’m wrong and happy when you forgive me and look at your photos and wish I’d known you forever and hear your voice in my ear and feel your skin on my skin and get scared when you’re angry and your eye has gone red and the other eye blue and your hair to the left and your face oriental and tell you you’re gorgeous and hug you when you’re anxious and hold you when you hurt and want you when I smell you and offend you when I touch you and whimper when I’m next to you and whimper when I’m not and dribble on your breast and smother you in the night and get cold when you take the blanket and hot when you don’t and melt when you smile and dissolve when you laugh and not understand why you think I’m rejecting you when I’m not rejecting you and wonder how you could think I’d ever reject you and wonder who you are but accept you anyway and tell you about the tree angel enchanted forest boy who flew across the ocean because he loved you and write poems for you and wonder why you don’t believe me and have a feeling so deep I can’t find words for it and want to buy you a kitten I’d get jealous of because it would get more attention than me and keep you in bed when you have to go and cry like a baby when you finally do and get rid of the roaches and buy you presents you don’t want and take them away again and ask you to marry me and you say no again but keep on asking because though you think I don’t mean it I do always have from the first time I asked you and wander the city thinking it’s empty without you and want what you want and think I’m losing myself but know I’m safe with you and tell you the worst of me and try to give you the best of me because you don’t deserve any less and answer your questions when I’d rather not and tell you the truth when I really don’t want to and try to be honest because I know you prefer it and think it’s all over but hang on in for just ten more minutes before you throw me out of your life and forget who I am and try to get closer to you because it’s a beautiful learning to know you and well worth the effort and speak German to you badly and Hebrew to you worse and make love with you at three in the morning and somehow somehow somehow communicate some of the overwhelming undying overpowering unconditional all-encompassing heart-enriching mind-expanding on-going never-ending love I have for you."

Sarah Kane, Crave
Jun 2 '13

Some Words

Life is not at all what you might think it to be
A simple tale where each thing has its history
It's much more than its scuffle and anything goes
Both evil and good, subject to the same laws.
Each hour has its color and forever gives place
Leaving less than yon bird of itself a trace.
In vain does memory attempt to store away
The scent  of its colors in a single bouquet
Memory can but shift cold ashes around
When the depths of time it endeavors to sound.
Never think that you may be allowed, at the end,
To say to yourself, "I am of myself the friend,"
Of make with yourself a last reconciliation.
You will remain the victim of your hesitation
You will forget today before tomorrow is here
And disavow yourself while much still is far from clear.
The defunct days will offer you their images
Only so that you may read of former outrages
And the days to come will mar with their complaints
The splendor that in your honor dejected evening paints.
Wishing to collect in your heart the feelings
Scattered in the meadows of misfortune's hard dealings
You will be the shepherd whose dog has run away
You will know even less  whence comes your dismay
Than you know the hour your boredom first saw the light.
Weary of seeking day you will relish in the night
In night's dim orchards you will find some rest
The counsels of the trees of night are best
Better than those of the tree knowledge, which corrupts us at birth
And which you allowed to flourish in the accursed earth.
When your most arduous labors grow pale as death
And you begin to inhale autumn's chilly breath
Winter will come soon to batter with his mace
Your precious moments, scattering them all over the place.
You will always be having to get up from your chairs
To move on to other heartbreaks, be caught in other snares.
The seasons will revolve on their scented course
Solar or devastated you will perforce
Be perfumed at their tepid passing, and not know
Whether their fragrance brings you joy or woe.
At the moment when your life becomes a total shambles
You will have to resume your hopeless rambles
You have left everything behind and you still are eligible
And all alone, as the gulf  becomes unbridgeable
You will have to earn your daily bread
Although you feel you'd be better off dead.
They'll hurt you, and you'd like to put up some resistance
Because you know that your very existence
Depends on others as unworthy of you
As you are of God, and when it's time to review
Your wrongs, you will feel no pain, they will seem a joke
For you will have ceased to suffer under their yoke.
Whether you pass through fields, towns or across the sea
You will always retain your melancholy
And look after it; you will have to think of your career
Not live it, as in a game where the best player
Is he who forgets himself, and cannot say
What spurs him on, and makes him win the day.
When weary henceforth of wishing to gaze
At the sinuous path of your spread-out days
You return to the place where your stables used to tower
You will find nothing left but some fetid manure
Your steeds beneath other horsemen will have fled
To autumn's far country, all rusted and red.
Like an ardent rose in the September sun
You will feel the flesh sag from your limbs, one by one,
Less of you than of a pruned rosebush will remain,
That spring lies in wait fr, to clothe once again.
If you wish to love you won't know whom to choose
There are none whose love you' be sorry to lose
Not to love at all would be the better part
Lest another seize and confiscate your heart.
When evening descends on your deserted routes
You won't be afraid and they will say, "What boots
It to worry and fret? To rail at my luck?
Since time my actions like an apple will pluck."
You would like of yourself to curtail certain features
That you dislike, making allowances for this creature,
Giving that other one a chance to show his fettle,
Confining yet another behind bars of metal:
That rebel will soon become an armed titan.
Then let yourself love all that you take delight in
Accept yourself whole, accept the heritage
That shaped you and is passed on from age to age
Down to your entity. Remain mysterious;
Rather than be pure, accept yourself as numerous.
That wave of heredity will not be denied:
Best, then, on a lover's silken breast to abide
And be wafted by her to Nirvana's blue shoals
Where the self is abolished and renounces its goals.
In you all things must live and procreate
Forget about the harvest and not the reaper
And of your domain another is the keeper.

When you see lapsed dreams that childhood invents
Salute you adolescence and fold their tents
Virginal, tall and slim beside the jasmine tree
An adorable girl is plaiting tenderly
The bouquet of love, which will stick in your memory
As the final vision and the final story.
Henceforth you will burn with lascivious fire
Accursed passion will strum its lyre
At the charming crossroads where day is on the wane
As the curve of a hill dissolves in a pain.
The tacit beauty of the sacred plateau
Will be spoiled for you and you will never know
Henceforth the peace a pious heart bestows
To the soul its gentle sister in whom echoes;
Anxiety will have called everything into question
And you will be tempted to the wildest actions.
Then let all fade at the edge of our days!
No God emerges to dream our destinies .
The days depart, only boredom does not retreat
It's like a path that flies beneath one's feet
Whose horizon shifts while as we trudge
The dust and mud stick to us and do not budge.
In vain do we speak, provoke actions or think,
We are prisoners of the world's demented sink.
The soft enchantments of our years of innocence
Are harvested by accredited experience
Our fondest memories soon turn to poison
And only oblivion remains in season.
When, beside a window, one feels evening prevail
Who is there who can receive its slanting veil
And not regret day that bore it on its stream
Whether day was joy or under evil's regime
Drawing us to the one and deploring the other
Regretting the departure of all our brothers
And all that made the day, including its stains.
Whoever you may be O man who complains
Not at your destiny, can you then doubt,
When the moment arrives for you to stretch out,
That remorse, a stinking jackal with subtle nose,
Will come at the end to devour your repose?
. . . Something gentle and something sad eftsoons
In the flanks of our pale and realistic noons
Holds with our soul a discourse without end
The curtain rises on the afternoon wind
Day sheds its leaves and now will soon be gone
And already my adulthood seems to mourn
Beside the reddish sunsets of the hollow vase
As gently it starts to deepen and slowly to increase.

Translated from the French of Arthur Cravan
(John Ashbery)

Apr 5 '13

had a few weird dreams last night but one stuck out liek a turd in the punch bowl. i was with mr.ingoglia (my old trumpet instructor) and we were about to perform in front of these girls i knew from the high school. we started i played the first line and he began playing his part and then this girl i used to have feelings for called me over and started talking to me. of course i got distracted and ingoglia kept on playing and then he stopped and i started freaking out because i missed all my parts and i ran up the auditorium stairs  to the upper floors and started cursing and crying and he followed me to try to calm me down. i went into a room up there and it randomly was like i guess a little shop with snacks and food and things and i just sat on the floor and cried.. and while that happened i looked up and missy elliot was standing right in front of me smiling and she gave me a hug and i complimented the younger boy she was with in a wheel chair on his hat.. then i woke up.

Feb 1 '13
Nov 15 '12

people aware like this, make my light shine brighter

love makes you do funny things. 
cliche but oh so true.
i’ve loved 3 girls, in the sense that they shared the same feeling.
all as crazy as i, completely different types of people too.
our bodies and mind are good at protecting us.
generalizing and profiling; measuring things is the way we’re programmed to do so. naturally or maybe through generations nurturing such fundamentals. think of how we still view territory and ethnicity. subconsciously as well as consciously. much like that we do with drugs, food, candy, people, water, colors. it reminds us of something. this can go into me explaining how we know everything in the universe, we just get the light bulb to pop and we say “oh, i get it now” a click; like remembering a dream or a black out night after putting the pieces together. but as we generalize, we close doors. which is GREAT in many cases. it’s cool that you know not to delve into such chaotic worlds, substances can take you to; too bad it had to take touching the hot stove once, unknowingly. (doing a hard drug, or any potentially damaging noun or verb) many either go to the extremes of either never doing or never stopping… orrr being closed minded in any way such as an “ONLY WEED IS GOOD”, or any other substances, religions, ideologies and such. nahh mean?
within that i believe you’re more “sane” than any, in the loose interpretation that sane can mean having a collective healthy view that causes no harm to other and helps you progress. but in reality we’re all insane, trying to be sane, trying to be unique, trying to blend in and stand out. we’re paradoxes with bodies and a frontal cortex. it’s amazing.

Nov 15 '12

when i was laced, i felt i went through every negative drug use. i did not feel psychedelic effects though, at all. only the feeling of the ‘crazy hard’ drugs that people stay feeening for.. i felt dead, like they were only downers. but i kept myself up, somehoww.

Oct 27 '12

i’ve been better than ever
so in love with life
and its beauty

thanks for existing~*~*

Oct 27 '12

moshilulutne asked:

aawee whitney don't say that if you ever want to hang out let me know. i love to don't feel lonely. i know well we haven't talked like much but if you ever feel lonely come to me. don't feel alone you have a really good friend for life right here. lubsyou! <3

my friend for life, thank you lucy.

Oct 27 '12

Anonymous asked:


prove it

Oct 4 '12

tbh weed helps me eat
when i can’t bare the sight of food

Oct 2 '12

my aunt that just came into my life a few months ago keeps pushing me to go to college in europe
so i sent her this

"you have to understand, i’m not in a position to make a decision to go to school right now. School will ALWAYS be there, I will always have to the chance to go. I will only go when i know I will be serious about it, I’m sorry if that upset you but you can’t keep pushing if it’s not the right time. I do appreciate the little comments and everything but.. it is up to me. I am very very very grateful that you are willing to give me that chance but you have to understand, timing is everything and now is not the right time for me. As for my birthday, I will have to see when is okay because of work and everything. Like I said, Thank you very much, but the more you push it on me, most likely, the more it will go out of my mind. much love. "

i don’t know, i hope she doesnt take it the wrong way, but i’m sorry i wont waste your time if i’m not going to take something seriously

Oct 1 '12

so much pain
i want o rip my lungs/ribs apart
i cant do much of anything without a sharp piercing pain by my upper right rib

i might have to go back to the doctor/hospital

Sep 29 '12

it only kinda collapsed
but anyway
i’m in a lot of pain
but i’ll get over it

life is weird ya know?

life is just so

in a good way

Sep 27 '12

ever feel like you have a collapsed lung?

Sep 25 '12

something i never stop thinking about
while i was in high school still
a friend of mine reacted after telling her i love her

"I get so excited and giggly when whit tells me she loves me
it makes me feel awesome
but then i see her 5 minutes later
telling someone else that she loves them too”

i see it both ways
good and bad
but as for now its good

everyone needs to be told they are loved
i don’t see anything wrong with it

i swear my heart will eat everyone whole