Tag Archives: literature
It’s truly a stasis.
Hold big thoughts and spend them on nothing.
The doors are closing now, run to the window.
I will await down to catch your spilled feelings.
Leave a comment | tags: art, blog, blogging, inspiration, literature, people, poetry, thoughts | posted in Literature
That’s not me who you see. That’s where I live. It’s not me who walks on those sidewalks, who goes up and down the stairs. It’s not me who crosses the street. It’s not me who looks at you. It’s what I look through. It’s where I live now. That’s where my eternity is put into boundaries. I’m in the `someday` and breathe through the `always`. I ramble. I gamble with the things my body does, so that I could stay here among you a little longer. Bodies are taught in dependence, whereas I had no teacher. I am the original sense, I am the authentic vibe. The common vibe. The one that goes between me and you, him and her, and then between all of us, and then….
I lost everything today and I haven’t felt more alive. In the endlessness. Fragment and defragment. You lose things in your touch with bodies. Something in the way I exist makes people feel doubtless. I got too close to what my body was doing and I got wounded by the mediocrity of the feelings it gets. Reason comes after, if it comes at all. I got lost in reason once. That’s when I start losing the vibe but it did not lose me. It came after me and got me by the hand, and then I smiled with a smile only closed eyes can see, and then I breathed again infinitely, and then…
I look at the wind and it reminds me what I am. I am ephemeral, I am eternal. I am here and I’m there. I’m too young in time to care. I only know how to dare cross all the lines they draw, and all the fields, all the mountains, all the seas and then…
I see the size of colours
The scope of the vibe.
The great escape.
Leave a comment | tags: art, author, blog, body, ephemeral, eternity, literature, november, people, reason, soul | posted in Literature
These little black dots just came out of their oblivion. They try to form themselves again on the other side. I like that try, I like that someday in which it all be worthy. But the message will never arrive, the birds dropped it in the ocean of forgetfulness. The idea is gone. But look at the people. Ever since you can see you look at them. But see them. Feel them. They don’t want what they got, but they also don’t want what we have in mind to give them. It’s only a silence of actions. You can’t live in a corrupt society and be still. You can only dance. It’s a representation of a thought that sometimes arrives more than late. And you dance. You dance on the sound of screams and in the background are their horrified faces. You can’t deny what lives inside your voice. You cannot escape what wants to live through your voice. And they don’t have a clue. You hold the clue on every step of your dance. But the ground beneath you cracks because of the power of their voices and the horror. And I don’t like what they do to you. I don’t like the trend. They are only there to breed guilt in your mind. This city is the pearly elitism of our fleeting time here. If we walk ourselves out of the economic system, the birds will still be flying, but the voices will still be heard too. We cannot wash away entire lifetimes. You cannot search for the message in the ocean that’s not yours. Unfair, we are not where we want to stand tonight. Unfairly, we are too close to the ground to stand up so easily. It’s just sad. Because people can be bad in so much more aspects than those in which they allow themselves to be good. That’s why they keep falling. Like leaves. But we cannot keep them from falling on the ground. No one is strong enough to fight the inevitable.
Leave a comment | tags: art, blogging, economic system, inspiration, literature, news, november, people | posted in Literature
Comfort is the feature of the closed mind.
A voice it is, they say.
It is not even a whisper anymore, if you ask me.
My mind is gambling with `yes` and `no`.
Oh, what a performance of doubt.
Simply, there are people who are worthy to suffer for. But don’t take the short cut, never take the short cut.
There’s where the story stays.
Leave a comment | tags: art, august, blog, blogger, inspiration, literature, mind, writing | posted in Literature
A water that shares too many seas. A sea that shares too many shores.
Leave a comment | tags: art, blog, inspiration, literature, love, poetry, quotes, sea, shore, thoughts, words, writer | posted in Literature
How many times I’ll have to break myself before my pieces are all gone…You should make up your mind now, because my attitude towards your indecision will end up in an unpleasant way. My words stay silent sometimes, my pen, though, won’t spare you what you deserve. What troubles you you deal with by noon and then you are ready to mess it all up again. Fast and firm. All this is getting tense but it’s not starting to make sense
I’d probably prefer the little loveless at the end. Never mind all the troubles that he caused.
Sometimes in a far-away land,
we encounter close-to-us people.
Sometimes in them,
we find out needed freedom.
Leave a comment | tags: art, blog, end, freedom, Jeremy Mann, land, literature, people, words, writer, writing | posted in Literature
The one who doubts in love is cursed to fail in life. No one knows this more than most of all. But I’d rather have a soul on my own. Tomorrow we’ll decide. Tomorrow is better than never, right? What do you say? I will always need my own place to bleed, you said you need to slow down the speed, of your life..what a strife!
Since I’ve been your number two and you’ve been my second choice, we fly on the clouds of our bitter oblivion.
Leave a comment | tags: art, artist, author, blog, inspiration, life, literature, love, oblivion, people, soul, speed, strife, thoughts, tomorrow, writer, writing | posted in Literature
What common sense?! We break everything up to love and hate. And I miss him in and out of every dream and he cannot even sit silent, he only screams. For our minds have never been clearer. I could never have anyone dearer.
But I was facing the future with my back when I came here. And I stumbled on my heart just to fall right where I needed to be, far away from my past misery.
by James Flames
Leave a comment | tags: art, artist, author, blog, dream, hate, heart, inspiration, life, literature, love, words, writer, writing | posted in Literature
We are at the end of time. I scarce too many lives, but I don’t want to be a repeat of the fool I was before. The pills don’t work anymore, unexpected things happen and I cannot know the weight of my life until I free myself from all those things. Into the more I am now, I will never go. I have never encountered anything as desirable as you. But I am bound to break my reflection in your mirror. You are the pure elitism of my biggest fears.
by Margarita Georgiadis
selcouth – unfamiliar, rare, strange and yet marvelous.
Leave a comment | tags: art, author, blog, desire, inspiration, life, literature, love, people, time, words, writer, writing | posted in Literature
We are here not endlessly but carelessly. It’s all a trapped energy, a secret never known. All my thoughts I tried not to share, you make them come out, but I can’t say that you care. I’ve been in you before.
Leave a comment | tags: art, blog, energy, inspiration, life, literature, people, thoughts, words, writer, writing | posted in Literature