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God what a day Friday was; it began so well, with a sweet paragraph of delusional imagination and a beautiful song and a video with amazing ASL singing … and the Earth was sullenly eaten by some out of control planet from the darkest realms of my hallucination ruled universe as it slammed through and created a situation where the covers and content of several already here works will have to be redone due to 'someone else's issues'. (insert sigh of your own EmoteIconOgraphy between parenthesis here).
The short of it is that five works have been removed and will need new art before I can put them back up; for those of you who had commented with love and appreciation, and those who had favorited them *shrug* I'm just speechless at the moment. Ah well … the dance together had to end permanently at some point or another.
Things grey eyes lust over
:thumb306559104:
The short of it is that five works have been removed and will need new art before I can put them back up; for those of you who had commented with love and appreciation, and those who had favorited them *shrug* I'm just speechless at the moment. Ah well … the dance together had to end permanently at some point or another.
Things grey eyes lust over
:thumb306559104:IAI-DO VIIIenglish version below:thumb306862625:
Tes lèvres au goût d'étoile - mornes et silencieuses
................................................................................
Your star-tasting lips - bleak and silent
Frantz, June 2012
.April ending.
.April ending.
Twitter™ is also like this, her search through detritus layers of life; linear in procedure. Time as lines, the TL: a wanted sequence for us to cling to even knowing the quantum cosmology of particle and wave mechanics. Twitter does not randomly present us. Neglecting even the theme sequence groupings which is a more likely portrayal of our natures.
It is left to us to paint our own contrails.
Across her words lay themes, not necessarily unique or original, but hers. An underlying hum of message machinery, not to be heard but sensed, felt.
The longing for the extraneous 'power' to which we cling, adhere, our desire fo
. backgrounds .
. backgrounds .
eat me play me
.
"And it feels as though God has abandoned you … in a stark place."
-A. Christie-
.
.
An arrangement of pieces, choreography of accidental encounters each of which denied them a presence or indicated any possible progress.
.
I do not command, I obtain.
.
She'd belittled the Plath of me, that small measure which i yet adored; that then, became a tipping point in our conjectured inevitability.
.
in crush
you lick
the soil soul of
my backgrounds
.
I'll make you quiet.
.
slicing through the young
smiling
alcohol ghost
.
I'll make you run.
.
driv
.upon surrender.
.upon surrender.
.
... only she knows ...
.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
E.Bishop
.
i sang
.
touch stones without remark tumbled
one after another
pathway footsteps
unnoted
one
after
another
no clack of disapprovals shed
one after another
creek bed’s
surrender
ocean’s
slickened
staid
.
as though i were an insult though they never spat me out
as though i were a crime they'd committed in dead of night
as though i were several different outfits now out
.last love.
.last love.
.
Why?
because i want to see beautiful things
think beautiful things
dream beautiful things
.
.
Oh they're running t'old steam engine tour train through t'valley today. God i wish i was having coal smoke and burning cinders blowin in my face. *picturing the screaming flaming tourists beating each other*
Fuck me with a jackhammer humans ARE the funniest damn creatures. Mom to six year old child "Hurry honey get that pretty summer frock on, we've got to catch the open air tour train!" Two hours later the scorched-hair tour family clambers offa the Old Timey tour train ... "Now wasn't THAT fun!"
And you know what REALLY ma
© 2012 - 2024 Amanda-Graham
Comments15
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well, that sucks. why?