A friend didn’t want to lose Franklin as he walked around the house

(via catsmeowkittensmittens)

Source: awwww-cute


"You want us to act natural? Watch this. We can do natural."

Source: humansofnewyork
Photo Set



Scheerbart, Paul, 1863-1915. Jenseits-Galeri, 1907.

Typ 920.07.7733

Houghton Library, Harvard University

Illustrations by a Writer No One Reads. See last year’s Paul Scheerbart profile by Matthew Jakubowski.

Source: houghtonlib


"What was the happiest moment of your life?"
"When Mr. Carson helps me with my writing."
"What’s the hardest part about writing?"
"The spaces and the dents and you have to start with a capital. But if you do a good job Mr. Carson lets you play with toys."

Source: humansofnewyork

I wish to be
engulfed by everything,
then walk around
and witness all that
is without having to hold

my self-silence soon
enough will overtake
me and I will be


Every one
fortunate enough, lives
through many different loves.

An owl’s head spins,
facing you then not.

Drink water deeply.
Sleep in some.


I just watched a movie and I’m involved between its world and this one which is so much quieter after. Theres a sliver of a quiver in me and I pray I will be able to sleep against it.



Today I had gotten out my truck taking a break at a pool I wasn’t quite sure I was even supposed to be

at because mistakes happen all the time

on schedules 

I had a funny feeling but neglected to be

logical check the log book

while there so I-took-my-sweet-time

ate some peanuts put on sunscreen lotion (here comes Spring was saying the air around my skin) 

had a cigarette even though I knew I would feel bad that’s how they are for me will be for forever and the sun was from what I remember of the day

at its highest point in the sky

these ducks were quack quacking away from this small marsh on this apartment complex towards these two picnic tables almost directly

in front of me which really takes away from the comfort of a picnic that I have in mind for any picnic I ever want to have and

under one was a child who looked at first to be looking at me, tilting his head a little like a pendulum

side to side from behind the arms of the table into vision, his legs swaying in a frog’s stance and I thought it looks like the ducks are coming straight towards him on purpose and then I saw his brother

under the other picnic table and figured they were playing a game of sorts

and in my head I want all the life around them to be green especially some splotchy growth around the concrete picnic tables This is the life I want them to have as a constant when

Their mother came from nowhere shouting

a name I couldn’t make out my hearing has been bad I keep noticing that I listen to music too loudly and she shouted another it’s funny

how I couldn’t hear them but how easy it is to tell they were being summoned

and then I guess she said to come

this time it was the wind’s fault I couldn’t hear the word because it died right after she said it and the first boy I’d noticed went

WHHYYYYYYYY she mumbled something but WHHHHHYYYYYYYYY 

because I said so I heard her reply just like my father would say

as though there is no explanation needed when the kid might be wondering what is so important that I have to get up and move from under this concrete picnic table exactly where I want to be right now 

and while that one I’m thinking for was reluctant but got started first

the other sat an extra moment then got up and sprinted past his brother past his mother then back around and smiled

a smile like there was absolutely nothing wrong maybe nothing wrong right

and I had another funny feeling which was where do moments like this go when winter is upon us

can I store them up like squirrels harvesting acorns

memories to stave off the numb cold

and as they walked away realized I had no clue where the ducks had gone

which matters but doesn’t.     



A Growth Which Was Seeded in a Gesture

(after a portrait of Marina Abramović)

105 x 105 cm

oil on linen


(via squeats)

Source: wi-ch



Two on this rock: a target, an arrogant one
The reason I crow, for some reason, I may never know
These are the faults of the hand: an imperfect arrow
Yet these are the bones I command

Ever I see them, on and on
You ignored me like when we were boys
The rules of survival say only the arrogant face their prey

These are the wounds of my youth, ones that I still feel
I s o l a t i o n: We only played your rules
These are the faults of the hand: an imperfect arrow
That pencil you dug in my back, up to the letters

Maybe when you’ve done burning all your bridges
You’ll burn for me
Maybe when you’ve done spent all your hand
You’ll reach for me
This is my song to the earth and I’ll sing it loud and clear
How does one cut through the air?
One disappears

Source: ihaveitallfiguredout

"You cannot live forever, without rain."

- Meme- and something to keep in mind as I get rained on all day so far today.


Me: I’m starting to find texts impersonal

Mom: True, that.



My last house

(via foxxtrot)

Source: sse24