It’s visual irony. – View on Path.
The coolest thing I learned about myself in the past week is that I’ve never been baptized. Still got that OG sin.
— Apparition (@legittalon) May 15, 2013
I wish I was more of a tortured genius.
Eh. Never mind. I have writers block.
Dang. Two reblogs. I’m feeling morally exhausted.
I should write some words and post those to stabilize.
Damn. Now I gotta try this. Can it be that hard?
(Source: tyler-daily, via neatdeer)
[video]
hipster filth. hipster scum.
you don’t know hipster until you’re a hipster bum.
livin’ off the streets.
no hipster fucking toms
for your hipster fucking feet.
I’m deflated of words.
The poetry I yearn to write is the scent of your skin. Waves of feelings, I want to conduct over your glistening aura.
Wrap tongues around the words of intimacy. Carve essences of transcendence in your psyche.
Words only frustrate me anymore. They cannot be crafted accurately enough to express how your fingers cross mine and my pores vibrate.
I lose my voice and gain clarity.
Walk into the door.
close it!
oh no your shadow is still stuck
to your feet and
oh dear
you can’t shake away that evil
I’ll just have to stab you with this knife.
Bright orbs illuminate
the dark cave.
Shadows dance
a knife carves
the ritual is forever resonate.
There are some people
who are orbited
like a planet with
moons
There are some people
who are spacey
like stars are their
eyes
There are some people
who cause hearts to flutter
minds to float
breath to shorten
skin to vibrate
and
they
do
it
every
god damn
chance
they
get
because if they can’t feel alive then every one they touch should.
Just chilling with my crew waiting for the train.
Self portrait. – View on Path.