God is a blown out tire.
a hiccup when you meant to sneeze.
God is an astronaut.
A multi storey car park.
a towing hitch.
God is a prosthesis.
God is an audiobook
a citronella tea light in June.
Are you getting it yet?
God is phone signal
God is the washer left over
After assembling flat pack furniture
God is a for sale sign
Outside an old friends house.
A phone call at 4am
a pencil sharpener.
God is bottled water.
a cleared throat.
The tab on milk bottle tops.
God is backspace
God is "your just in time".
Limescale at the bottom of your cup.
God is blinking
God is tripping over your feet
God is shot in game
God is "your gonna be ok"
I take a sip of black coffee
It sits resting in the ceramic mug next to this typing space
The liquid rushes down my throat
This fifth cup of the hour brings joy
Is it a crutch, for I miss my usual companions of mind expansion?
Or is it a common cultural ritual of casual importance?
Is it a tool to fuel the fire of prolific inspired thoughts?
Or is it an illusion of harmful dedication to fulfill the need to write?
I feel it helps,
Though, naturally, it is not necessary.
Just as wine to wet the palate of flow,
Or an herbal cigarette to get the picture on the roll, the scroll, the holy goal
It simply is a habit - an extra step to the top floor of Creation.
I've been in the fields - the plantations
I've picked the coffee bean with my own hands for hours upon hours on end,
Leaving nothing but sticky hands and a limp paycheck to help me continue on my way.
Where am I headed?
Only the sky knows the answer to that question.
I try my very best to listen to its whispers
And imitate its words with action
I try and follow the orders of the divine to the best of my ability
But I am human,
And with that fact, I am hindered by natural law
And so I sit quietly on this lazy sunshine afternoon, sipping my black coffee
Recalling the days of sticky hands and limp paychecks in the humid fields of fate
And laugh at the craziness of my existence.
When I was born, did I think that I'd be here today, recalling such things
And forever immortalizing them in word and symbol?
I can't recall.
Perhaps I did , but perhaps I didn't.
They say that you choose your family before your come into this world.
But did they also say that you’d pick your face and desires?
Did they say that you’d be exactly who you wanted to be?
I’m not too sure who “they” are, but I don’t really care
As I poured the coffee into this mug,
I also choose what I want to do, who I want to be, and just how I shall love the world
As a human, we’re born free
The mind creates whatever it wants to base its perspective on reality off of.
The lock of gravity to keep us from floating away
Even when you’ve had a drop or two of ol’ Sandoz, you’re still kept from flying from the world
Words can fly, though
At least spoken word.
The words carry a vibration, a soundwave, which continue throughout the cosmos for eternity,
Unless eternity doesn’t exist in this universe,
In which case, they shall bounce off the walls of Space and Time and ricochet back to their source
Oh holy game of Sound Tennis
Free us from thinking you don’t exist
When the game is being played, its easy to forget that its just a game
It is only a game
Sitting in the sunshine of afternoon daze,
Sipping away at coffee and dreams
Life seems more like a blessing of bizarre circumstance and genuine interest in formful comfort
As opposed to a game with no more of a meaning than to finish it and try win in the meantime
Something seems fishy
And it isn’t the cat or the caffeine
Its the bare existence of existence
Perhaps I’m dancing around in circles, getting nowhere
But is there actually anywhere to go?
Sure, I’d love to be on the beach in ninety degree weather in the Cayman Islands rather than the cold of This northeastern mountain range of poor old troubled Amerika
But such is life
Perhaps one day I’ll be back on the beaches, dreaming easy of nothing, for the dream has already been Fulfilled, oh what a dream
With a farm up the hill from the coast
With fresh gardens and fruit trees and cannabis and coconuts and a shack of humble gratitude
With rivers and fish and goats and chickens
With sunshine and warmth and light and forever blue skies
With a woman of love and peace and art and intellect and wisdom and smiles
With the quaint knowledge that everything is always alright, regardless of circumstance
With the security of not needing security
With the freedom to laugh without pausing out of courtesy to not wake the sleeping
With the ghastly beauty of not waiting in line to ride a roller-coaster, for the mind is more than enough
With twists and turns and self-inflicted burns
With the crazy catch of tomorrow while still being here today
With nothing less than paradise awaiting the caress of self’s heart
And the holy notion that there’s something even greater on the other side of this life
Om, tranquil being
Pour more coffee, must stay awake - no sleep in days
No sleep in weeks
How do those speedy speedsters do it?
I wouldn’t even want to try
I enjoy my dimethyltriptamine inspired voyages across unforeseen holographic landscapes of the Subconscious
Oh, I’m conscious of that
I wonder if it’d be possible to bring the totality of the subconscious mind to full conscious awareness
I suppose it wouldn’t be the subconscious anymore
And thus there would be no way to measure if it worked or not
I think it’s already working
Yep, it’s working,
At one-twenty-eight a.m. It’s working. From noon to night. Life is still life, and it’s all alright.
She has this heart—broken, compared with mine.
It seemed so irreparable like it’ll never be fine.
But I too, have this wounded and jaded heart,
It's not just bent—it is torn apart.
She’d forced happiness and embraced it all,
So she continuously drop and deeply fall.
While I, allowed sadness to eat the parts of me,
And help it imprison me then it didn't let me free.
She somehow had realized the clues of climbing up,
Like all it was, was just a coffee poured in a cup.
Whereas I, was just sitting in the seashore—unmoved,
While seeing the waves, crash in a sorrowful groove.
At a snap—she’d already escaped from the abyss she’d fall into,
And walked straightly, laughing at the things that once made her blue.
She’d passed through the corners once full of dreadful silence,
And now, she’s already enjoying sadness’s absence.
While I remained still—hopeless while looking up at the moon,
I thought that all this bruises will heal one day, very soon.
But I am just always up to dreams and wishful thinking,
For not anymore, can I destroy sadness’s building.
Breaking water, diving in with my body, head first.
Rippling seams and leaving stitches unfinished. I dive in to let the purity envelop me. Cleanse me and my pores,
return me to where I started from.
Release me from wars, unopened doors I wished I turned. Forget wounds of battle on my skin.
Open me.cut me open and leave me bleeding. Let my blood sink into the earth until there is nothing left, let me walk this earth for miles and miles, let me feel the pain in my lungs and the hoarseness of my being escaping from my throat. Let me build a moat around my princess castle and then tear it down. Lightning strike me and rip my particles, rip the matter from me like guns on glass. Crack me and tear me. I will get up again.
I will rise.
And Let me sing,
sing until my prayers are whispers.
Forest water, reflecting green, serenity.
I have dreams of black claws like raven glass closing in, scratching me bare. Howling and deep long nails and witchy eyes cackling like the darkness overlapping. The demons within closing in. I hide from the light, unaware of how I’m blocking out love from my life. Is it just a dream what my heart has seen. Now I walk like wind or stones in snow. I trudge along trying to remain strong when the forces pull and tear the ramshackle down to the ground.
I’ve been breathing and living, these stones suspended, seeing so many things and this compilation of stories warms my belly and tears my flesh.The happiness is what breaks me. Suspending the never-ending. I am so close to the grave that I dug for myself but I must keep walking past that linear line that I set for myself. It is lines within circles. So many flows, I thought I chose the whole. Breathe. Pouring myself out into you. I wonder if I give and give it will fade into the soil and the bottle will empty. Melt like water. Feed you and leave me. Is it releasing or is it unhealthy for me to give myself away.
I gave myself away.
I have strewn pieces of myself into everything I have touched but I am afraid that one day there will be nothing left. Nothing left when finally I receive pieces of someone else. . Excuse me, it is not like me to be so dramatic and I am afraid to write things like this because it feels so cheesy except the process of seeking deeper is breaking that boundary and that un-comfortableness. Where did our love go? It existed between the skin and the bones. It was a facade or something else. I am not very sure. Not lust but colour, it was dewy green like steam from a coffee cup in the morning. Or the rain on the window pane while I slept in your arms and refrained from needing you too much, I cannot write about you without tears, write about your skin or your smile, and I am in a confined environment as I write this where such things are not very acceptable. I am hiding on the screen, escaping my heart. I cried this morning because it was all too perfect.
I am cut open I suppose. Like that song “And it was your heart on the line / I really fucked it up this time / Didn't I, my dear?” Mumford and Sons even feels too perfectly imperfect that I laugh at myself and this funny hole I am in. I don’t like the swear word though, sometimes I laugh because it works. The “f” word in that song it just kind of fits. It is like the pathetic-ness and the hilarity, when we slip in mud and are covered in filth when we have nothing left but to cry and to laugh because we are crying because nothing in this world really matters or it matters all too much. Because I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t think anybody does. We just muster our determination and passion and roll with it but still there is an element of unpredictability no matter how routine we have gotten. No matter how far we have fallen from our roots. Excuse me for crying this morning, don’t worry I laughed it off after. I laughed because of life and laughed because I cried, and I cried because I love you.
And now I walk like wind or stones in snow. I trudge on with all my strength. Wisping like whispers caught from the ears of children and passing through the world. Cold like ice on swing sets and little hands clasping them. Red fingers and red noses. Snot on mittens and sharp pain. Winter.
I Wisp like wind in water. I crack like stones of sand and rock. I break like waves on the shores of life. I cry like the trees at night. Howling to the moon. I open when you call me. I close when I’m falling. I hide like children at night. I am under the streetlight, orange, alley cats in shadow homes and grey cement, dead rats, broken bones. My eyes are bare, sunken in the light. I suppose I should muster my might. Find peace beyond my fight. Escape distress. I wish you saw something more. I wish that there was something else. Speeding on.
As the dark shadows chant sacrificial hymns
Unfazed, a psychotic smile planted on my face
I drink from the cup of death
Cold steel claws rip out my innards and my soul
Yours, just one more for the fire.
("if there is anything i can do to help you just tell me. there is nothing i wouldn't do to help my khaleesi. "
"just make me smile again"
"j-just think about-
jake malik and his terrifying rubber chicken like will we ever be done with that?-
or like, why the hell Nightwish needed so much milk on that one tour-
or how Caleb turned to me in science randomly the other day and said 'you and Courtney are going to have a goth Emilie Autumn wedding, aren't you?' "
"YOU BET WE ARE CALEB"
"like how do you even have an Emilie Autumn wedding-" -i rambleramblerambled and my ideas were dumbdumbdumb but it was okay because what she had to say was adorablest-
"Easy, i get a pretty pretty corset dress and with the emilie autumn crossed out heart symbol in the middle and after we say the vows
you pick out the stitches that cross the heart out
and i give the heart to you
because you fixed my heart and now i offer it to you x"
--i grinned so aggressively my dimples hurt and i accidentally fell out of my chair but i was too happy to move or to get up or anything i couldn't handle all the cute so i just lay there on the floor for a few minutes beaming intensely at the minimal brightness of the cell phone screen while everything else disappeared because nothing matters but her--
e a s y )
with this hand, I will lift your sorrows.
if only you were here and i could touch you and entangle my fingers in your perfect hair
Your cup will never empty,
For I will be your wine.
(you're drunker than Cersei Lannister on me
and it shows
when it is approximately 3am and you are making hashtags and
inviting me to come to england and eat you out x
there are always xxkissesxx at the end and somehow that makes it even more endearing and if there was any way i could i would be there now darling and you know it.)
'i fixed your heart' you say
i could say it was easy to fix, but that would be lying
but it wasn't too terribly difficult to mend
and even though it's fixed now i'm certain i will never be done with it
i'm rubbish at cheering people up but wow
Fall in love with me.
You’ll have to do it eventually so why not me?
I promise you won’t ever find someone so perfectly adequate at it.
I can’t afford a bouquet of roses but I’d spend an entire day picking you the loveliest handful of wildflowers you’d ever seen.
I couldn’t save you from a hungry lion but I’d stay up all night making sure those noises are really just nothing.
I can’t solve integral equations but I can work out every speck of questioning in your life so you know you’ve done well.
I won’t write the next great American novel but I’ll fill thousands of pages with the stories of all the moments we spend together.
I won’t become a doctor and cure people of their illnesses but I can bandage up your cuts and kiss the bruises from your knees.
I will never appear on television or in funny movies but I’d tell you all the jokes I’ve got and make you laugh even on your darkest day.
I won’t open a five star restaurant in the city but I’ll never pass up a chance to make you a warm cup of tea on a chilly day.
I’m not studying to be a psychiatrist but I can hold you and kiss you until the monsters inside your head cease to exist.
I will not paint the next Mona Lisa but I’ll sketch the outline of every coastline you love so dearly.
I’m not a superhero and I don’t wear a red cape or know how to fly but I’ll die knowing that out of everyone on this planet I tried the hardest to save you and to make you happy and that will be enough.
Fall in love with me.
I promise you won’t regret it.
Struggle struggle struggle
Cue fake Smile
Remember to grab cheer shoes in the morning
Oh, Aj and Sarah Alice are talking again?
Oh god what am I gonna get you gossipy motherfuckers for Christmas
Oh hey there's one I like
And there she goes
And he for that matter
Not that he ever was there
Learn learn learn
Sip coffee. Stay awake.
Take organized, color-coded notes
Cue laughter at friend's jokes
Small cup of lettuce
Pretend not to notice the looks people give your lunch over bloated piles of pasta
Sorry I don't like school food
Pinch inner thigh fat
Gaze at stretch marks dejectedly
Try to forget because people are starving in Africa
So be happy in your big house and priavate school stupid
Sip more coffee
Iced now because it's afternoon
Cheer cheer cheer am I breathing oh goddamn I cannot possibly throw this tuck I CANNOT THROW THE TUCK THE TUCK DOES NOT HAVE THE POTENTIAL FOR LANDING CANT AHH DEAR JESUS OKAY I THREW THE TUCK okay pose breath breath where is the oxygen who fucking knows 1
Dance dance dance smile look pretty
Is this what death feels like
YAY WE HIT YAS IM IN HEAVEN
Oh god more homework
Just plan which breaks you'll do it in tomorrow
Study hall- apush
Another subject I pray I'll have random time to do for some reason
Who knows how tf it gets done
Wait but tumblr
oh god oh lord IM LARGE AND NOT EXPERIENCING EVERYTHING WHAT IF IM DOING EVERYTHING WRONG AND ILL NEVER GET OUT OF HERE SORRY MOM BUT YOU MAKE MY BRAIN WANT TO SPILL OUT but what if I'm looking at the future too much and I miss all the good stuff now but this also kind of sucks not gonna lie
WHAT IF IM NOT ENOUGH
Okay Gabs stop being a stupid emotional mother fucker
* sings defying gravity on bathroom floor with all doors closed *
Okay. I'm Gucci
It's ten thirty
Damn I'm tired
I wondered that one day,
what words I might say.
An event so catastrophic,
I became so hypnotic.
Never saw anything like this,
not something you'd wanna miss.
A phenomenon like no other,
not sure I'd ever recover.
Not something easily explained,
not a soul could be blamed.
People just stopped to stare,
something was just in the air.
These things only happen to someone else,
no words could ever try to express.
A drama turned disaster,
hair turned white as plaster.
Life flashing before the eyes,
stomach filled with butterflies.
As the world stood silently still,
you could feel a bitter chill.
No one knows how or why,
never got to say good-bye.
Everyone in a sudden awe,
felt like an episode of Monday Night Raw.
No one knows exactly what happened,
everyone felt so lost and abandoned.
People couldn't take eyes off the news,
was this real or just a ruse.
Hiding tears with sunglasses,
was billions of the masses.
Possibly the darkest day in history,
everyone had their own theory.
Sometimes you just never know,
there's an ending to every great show.
Mine ended on that fateful night,
no more words left to write.
No one ever saw it coming,
peoples hearts were rapidly pumping.
I went to sleep and never woke up,
filled with sorrow was everyone's cup.
As the world began to mourn,
one day I will be reborn.
Death feels like a hypnotic trance,
I'll return for a second chance.
As I look down from the clouds,
I watch over all the saddened crowds.
Unlike Jesus, I shall return,
still a lot of life left to learn.
Simply can't deal with these voices inside my head,
Repeating over and over,
Saying I'm not worth anything,
Isolation slowly become my bestfriend,
The only medication, that helps my heart mend,
"Why are you trying so hard?"
"You mess everything up"
"Sit there drawing your worthless drawings"
She says as she breaks the coffee cup,
These fights, the rage,
Never-ending bitter talk,
These voices I try and block,
Have no hope, they just build in me anger,
For now I write this hatred poem,
Which she would say "Throw it in the trash, it's just as worthless as you"
The voices repeat, All left now is to take a seat and watch the nothingness pass over me.
'she' is my mind