1. Would you come with me...? Through the trees? We could lay on the grass, and let the hours pass...?

    It’s all I ever wanted, all I ever needed. This world is trying its hardest to leave me unimpressed, but here inside, I’m at home. I’m alive. All love’s luxuries are here for you and me. You’ve got me dreaming.

    Let ‘em figure that one out.

  2. Why the Global 99% Wants Us to Win

    We're the spoiled ones, huh?

    I constantly see this image and variations on it popping up around conversations about Occupy Wall Street. People seem to think that it discredits the idea of the movement and proves that the protesters are spoiled brats who only complain out of ignorance of how fortunate they truly are. While I would agree that most occupants of the first world need a major reality check and ought to learn to live with less, I don’t see how this has any bearing on the validity of Occupy Wall Street, whose proponents are seeking to narrow the gap between the elite and the impoverished. If anything, the condition of the poorest of the world’s people makes government supported wealth hoarding seem all the more outrageous, even downright evil. Moreover, the thinking behind the use of this picture is lazy and dangerous. The same logic would argue, “Be content that your parents only beat you. The neighbors MURDERED their children!” Am I the only one who thinks that violence is violence? That injustice is injustice? That greed is greed, whatever the magnitude? While it is true that wins for the 99 percent here in the United States will not directly aid those who suffer in Africa and elsewhere, they will be steps in the right direction, away from the hegemony of the rich and toward a world where the privilege of an at-least-adequate standard of living belongs to every last person willing to work for it.

  3. What do you take with you?

    Tsunami evacuation! Mom shouts outside the apartment to warn us: we’re going East to Peter’s, and that’s that.

    I call my boss, hoping I’m not waking her. She’s miles inland, up since four.

    We’re bagging what we’d least want washed away.

    Hers: phone, Kindle, laptop, purse, headphones. Will I regret not taking the photo album? Everything looks different: value over weight and size. Sonicare. Let’s be practical. Forgot my great-great-great-grandmother’s ring.

    His: phone, Zune, little hard drive, portfolio, wallet, headphones, the card I made him for Valentine’s Day.

    We’re in the doorway, looking back.

    We can’t take our house.

    Mom’s calling. She calls it off.

    What do you take with you?

  4. Isn’t it just a little weird?

    For those of you who don’t know, I currently work in retail. Luckily, I do not work in a gigantic chain store, such as Forever 21, where behavior, dress, and music are regulated from afar… by radio program. At my place of work (let’s call it Cosines), we have a five-disc changer and five employees with generally good taste in music.

    Today, a track came on that no one had yet played. It was Enjoy the Silence by Depeche Mode, and I was a-groovin’. Out of some strange mental disconnect, I didn’t realize who the artist was until my coworker said, “Have you ever listened to Depeche Mode in complete darkness? It’s cuh-razy!”

    I was floored. I stammered, “Uh.. Yeah. Yeah, actually. A couple times.” Big understatement. Two years ago, it was a rare night when I didn’t do just that. I had had a deeply disturbing and damaging experience, and I listened to One Caress literally hundreds of times because, for some reason, it tapped my emotion. I used it cathartically. I turned off the lights. I shut the drapes. I turned up the volume on my headphones and just thought and cried. Eventually, I got over it as much as I could. However, the band, in all of its stereotypical eighties silliness, still holds considerable associative power over me.

    Isn’t just a little weird when someone you barely know hits a vein of your life with such impossible blind accuracy that you could just… spatter them with your secrets?

    Can you listen to these songs in the dark for me?

    I apologize for the unedited nature of this.

  5. I think i sent you a formspring message but it might show as anonymous. Regardless, how are you? Where you at these days?

    I’m doing well, but I’m getting tired of my lack of literary energy. I came onto tumblr today for the first time in months, looking to post a big ol’ artsy rant, but I ended up looking at those of others until three in the morning, and I’m all ranted out for now. And I work tomorrow. Joys.

    Glad you noticed my non-presence, though. Soon (I hope), I’ll publish one of the five or so drafts over which I had been agonizing before I left.

  6. Did You Know?

     … that cyanide smells like sweet almonds? The next time you think you smell frangipane, stop inhaling immediately and check for hostiles in gas masks!

  7. The Witch

    Several friends and I had come across a shopping cart while wandering around in town. We were taking turns pushing each other in it when I spotted an elderly woman standing on the far corner of the block on which we were walking. 

    She wore sunglasses and held a full plastic shopping bag in each hand. She was talking to herself, and I occasionally heard her murmured words: “kids” and “bad,” most frequently. I believe she thought that we had stolen the cart or that we were simply being irresponsible by riding in it. 

    As we passed her, she turned slowly to match our passage and quietly said, “I’m going to put a curse on all of you.” She then followed us for a few minutes before turning down an alley, from which she continued to watch us.

    Her actions seemed to indicate that she had forgotten her destination and perhaps many other things. I speculated that she suffered some sort of dementia, but I was unsure whether to leave or to attempt to help her find her home. I was intimidated by memories of extremely stubborn Alzheimer’s patients, fictional and real, and my ambivalence soon allowed the group to push me from her in the cart.

  8. I think he stuck to me.

    he smells so strongly of alcohol and smoke

    that other essential aromas are no longer detectable

    human scents and sense do not restrict his entry

    into conversations and doorways

    he offers work and advice

    clearly not in a position to give either

    he winks and touches my ankle

    his odors stay longer than he does

    I think he stuck to me.

  9. yiukenduit:

tremblebot:

So this hurts a little to post because I think I look funny, but it was so much goddamn fun to do and I think the result is pretty spectacular. One of my oldest friends and I spent many days assembling and planning our re-creation of the original picture. We were sort of nervous to go knock on the door of my old house but the woman who answered the door was super cool and really just laughed a lot. Because, you know, I look like a fucking strawberry on doughnuts with a beard.
There is a lot more going on in these pictures that I want to talk about like the fact that my mother dressed me in a shirt with rows of cherries and berries or that I’m actively trying to make my face look like that or the bowl cut(s). The best part is that the picture was taken by a third friend we both grew up with and have known as long and love and miss terribly.

    yiukenduit:

    tremblebot:

    So this hurts a little to post because I think I look funny, but it was so much goddamn fun to do and I think the result is pretty spectacular. One of my oldest friends and I spent many days assembling and planning our re-creation of the original picture. We were sort of nervous to go knock on the door of my old house but the woman who answered the door was super cool and really just laughed a lot. Because, you know, I look like a fucking strawberry on doughnuts with a beard.

    There is a lot more going on in these pictures that I want to talk about like the fact that my mother dressed me in a shirt with rows of cherries and berries or that I’m actively trying to make my face look like that or the bowl cut(s). The best part is that the picture was taken by a third friend we both grew up with and have known as long and love and miss terribly.

  10. Those Near-Universal Memories

    We began

    with a sleepskate

    into consciousness

    pouring from parents

    Then

    we blundered in blusters

    towards our own mobility until

    we could crunch mysteries

    beneath our feet

    Then

    we tried the tricycle

    through puddles

    trailing wet traces in the road

    stirring legends

    maps of our own scale

    Then

    we blew on fires

    charring ants

    scorching our fingers

    blackening our first eggs

    Then

    we adventured into adulthood

    and poured our own

    children

    from mysteries, puddles, and fires

  11. Just Actin’ Like We’re Animals…

    I’m not really a big fan of the “we’re not animals” idea. Of course we’re animals. Our extraordinary ability to exploit and rule over other species does not make us special. Sure, we have uncommon mental faculties, but there are other areas in which different sorts of animals outstrip us completely, like in senses of vision and smell, in the generation of personal electrical fields, in the ability to sense magnetic fields, and probably in lots of other incredible things we haven’t even discovered. We also are no less brutal than any other species. Contrary to popular belief, there are lots of animals far more peaceable than homo sapiens.

    Our animal-hood, of course, does not eliminate our humanistic responsibilities…* I just don’t think the distinction between animals and humans is a necessary or even a safe one to make. It, among other things, allows us to distance ourselves from the harm that we do to other living beings.

    Am I wrong? You tell me.

    *As in: ”Don’t do that. You’re not an animal.”

  12. yiukenduit:

(via cyan14)
A shot taken apparently from “Mike And Bernie Winters Big Night Out”
  13. godzillahaiku:

34
  14. "

    Jesus got me “the gift of eternal enlightenment”. I’m pretty sure he got that for me last year too.

    I’m telling you guys, I’m living with a couple of dicks!

    "
    jesuskirkandvinny
  15. Just a Thought:

    The phrase “Get a tumblr and follow me!” would have meant something very different a mere decade or two ago.

About

Wanting to blog, to me, is like becoming fascinated with radio in outer space. One can send one's thoughts out into the void with a vague hope of a response, but one has no end goal but to broadcast. If thoughts are in open space or outer space, they exist. Even if no one looks or listens, they are there.

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