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Apr 17 · 98
We Got Green Eyes
Look at the clouds
      What do you see?
                  𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦

Look at the clouds
What do I see?
          𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑒𝑛𝑣𝑦


Teach me and I'll 𝐟𝐥𝐲
Teach me and I'll 𝐃𝐈𝐄
                    𝐶𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔
        𝑈𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝐼 𝑠𝑢𝑓𝑓𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒
And I'll fall right back DOWN

Teach me and I'll 𝐟𝐥𝐲
Teach me and I'll 𝐃𝐈𝐄
                                       𝐶𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑙𝑦 𝑢𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑠
                    𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒
And I'll fall right back DOWN


𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑒
𝐼𝑓 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡
𝑆𝑜 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑚 𝐼?
A failure cured by

ENVY,
        You green-eyed MONSTER
To you,
                       𝐼 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑

And now I have
𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬


Don't turn your wants into needs
        𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑒
Don't turn your hopes into expectations
        𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑑


Teach me and I'll 𝐟𝐥𝐲
Teach me and I'll 𝐃𝐈𝐄
                    𝐶𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔
        𝑈𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝐼 𝑠𝑢𝑓𝑓𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒
And I'll fall right back DOWN

Teach me and I'll 𝐟𝐥𝐲
Teach me and I'll 𝐃𝐈𝐄
                                        𝐶𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑙𝑦 𝑢𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑠
                    𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒
And I'll fall right back DOWN


𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑚e
𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦
𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑒
𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒





Be proud of
Who you are
You don't need to
Reach the stars

𝐸𝑛𝑣𝑦, E𝑛𝑣𝑦
Don't think like me
𝐸𝑛𝑣𝑦, 𝐸𝑛𝑣𝑦
Ignore the green-eyed beast


Teach me and I'll fly
Teach me and I'll die
I'll never be satisfied
It's not good enough to try
I have to do it right

Teach me and I'll die
But you had better fly
Leave me and I'll die
But you had better teach yourself

That 𝐸𝑛𝑣𝑦 is an addiction
Surely you can find a better affliction
Apr 16 · 95
In Pursuit of Wonder
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆?

𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑠𝑑𝑜𝑚 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟,
𝑤𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑣𝑖𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒?

Where is beauty if not borne in the bond between us,
in every CURIOUS GAZE, every DARING DREAM, every LUMINOUS LEAP toward discovery?

Truth twists, shifting shape, sculpting fact into fable…

Yet FABLE FORGES THE FRAME OF FACT.


We EXPLAIN the 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧, CHASE the 𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧, and REACH toward the 𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞—
not to seize it, no, but to
ILLUMINATE THE WAY.

𝐸𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑟, 𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑.
𝐸𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑙𝑖𝑒, 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑙, 𝑢𝑛𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑡ℎ.

WHO DECIDES WHAT’S REAL AND WHAT’S NOT?

It is a CHOICE we make, a LENS we craft— for
PERCEPTION SHAPES REALITY.

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑓 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑠 𝑢𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔.


No, no, we need not the 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡,
but 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐬 that carry us as 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 as we can come.
Not the 𝐇𝐔𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐒 of 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐲, but
THEORIES that 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐓 we are unsure—

𝑂𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑛 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑤.


No, NOT PERMANENCE, BUT POSSIBILITIES.
NOT CONCLUSION, BUT CURIOSITY.
NOT RESOLUTION, BUT RESTLESS PURSUIT.

𝑊𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑘 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔.
𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑜𝑛.

FOR WE ARE 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐒,
UNWAVERING,
PUSHING EVER FORWARD,
EVER FURTHER.

WE NEED NOT AGREEMENT, but 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓.
NOT KNOWLEDGE ALONE, but 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓—

No, not just insight, but

𝑩𝑬𝑨𝑼𝑻𝒀!


Our tentative theories transmute into transient proof of progress,
propelling us toward ever-better understanding—
bold revelations bending into bridges that carry us
ACROSS THE VEIL OF UNCERTAINTY.

𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑠𝑑𝑜𝑚 𝑤𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟,

DISTILLING DREAMS INTO DECLARATIONS THAT DRIVE US FORWARD.


𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊.

Share the 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 that sent you 𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔.
Tell me the 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 that turned your mind to 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑙.
Reveal the 𝐫𝐡𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐦 that resonates through 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛.

REAL OR NOT,
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄?
What allows it to endure?

𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒, 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟, 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑒—

PROOF THAT IN THE END, YOU DID MORE THAN SIMPLY DIE?


𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄.

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.
  𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑒.  
𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑾𝑶𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹!
My, how the wind blows.
She sings a lovely song.

Is that victory I hear?
Oh, such familiar cheers.

But my, how the sky does fall.
She cries, but for which side?

Does she cry for their defeat?
Surely she wouldn't,

cry

for

me.


To wrath and rage,
I've been your slave.

How can this be?
A hero, I've been named.
But you, my friend,
You are,

nothing

like

me.


Oh hero, see,
This red, polished steel.
Your hands did,

nothing

but

heal.


I am just a tally,
I am just a weapon.
Sharp as my determination,
Heavy as my heart.

As they celebrate,
You are out there on your knees,
Stitching all the open seams.
Cleaning the mess,

made

by

me.



~~~Act II~~~

My, how the sky fell as I slept
Why weep when a killer's half dead?
My, how the wind sings
But surely these cheers

Can't redeem me.

Oh hero, your purpose has been so pure
You are not bound by sin like me
You need not harm nor blame
You are

Nothing like me.

I am pure, only by intention
But you are clean, even in action

Those hands of yours
Must do nothing more
Never take what

Can't be restored.

Oh hero, see
This red, polished steel
Your hands, did

Nothing but heal.


A true hero,

gives,

never

takes.


A true hero,

is you,


not



me.
Apr 15 · 90
Origin Story
Here, love's story begins
Life can't tear it apart
Cause it's powered by the heart

A look of fear in his eyes
She comes running to his side
The bullies say "this'll hurt"
And she makes them all eat dirt

He looks up from the ground
A smile replaces a frown


Here, love's story blossoms
Nothing in this world can stop them
Cause it's powered by the heart

She pulls him up
He starts to blush
Two hearts begin to rush
"Hey, why don't we get some lunch?"

She brought him to a diner
Where he got to know her

From the ground to a table
From strangers to friends
From a table to a movie
From friends to lovers


Here, love's story ignites
Nothing will ever be as bright
Cause it's powered by the heart

She holds his hand
It makes him glad
She kisses his lips
He'll never get sick of it

From a greeting to a wedding
From two kids grew two lovers
From a date to a family
What a happy story

"I've got good news today
Come home soon, and I'll say"
"Oh boy, I can barely wait"

From two lovers grew an accident
How the hell could this happen?
The sirens were too late


Here, life's story ends
Love tore it apart
Cause it was powered by the heart
Apr 14 · 387
Gentle Hands
The beauty of paper flowers
They never wither

The tragedy of paper flowers
They always remember

Your gentle hands could do no harm
But they could let go

A paper flower never wilted

Even worse

It was discarded
Apr 14 · 108
Blood Upon the Sunrise
-
                                          𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬
                                                  𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧

See bright rays
reveal blood stains

Yesterday, there was life
It vanished
𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵


                                           𝐔𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐧
                                       𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞

How could the world carry on?
Why do the birds sing a happy song?
𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠


                                                𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲
                                                 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘺?

Why were you bleeding?
𝘚𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨

                                                        ­                     Blue petals turned violet
                                                         ­     𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦
                                                        ­                           Why did she do this?
                                                                ­        𝐇𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬

                                                   
                                 ­                                  He fought through the misery
                                      just to be killed by a 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝-𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲
                                                          ­                And she blamed the night
                                                          ­                             but I know
                                           𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧


                                              𝐔𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐧
                                         𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞

How could the world carry on?
Why do the birds sing a happy song?
𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠


                                                𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲
                                                 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘺?

Why were you bleeding?
𝘚𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨










𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑


                                      ­     𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃-𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑


                                                        ­                                               𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑


                                        𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑



See his dead body
                                                            ­                         That rose all ******

                                                She is a 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑








                                                𝐌𝐨­𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲
                                                   𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺.

𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨


                                                       ­                           They let her get away
                                                                ­          The evidence was ignored
                                                 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳?






                                             𝐔𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐧
His
Petals were all gone

                                                   Yet somehow

                                                        ­                           The world carried on
                                                            **­w dare they sing a happy song

                                           𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠



                                                𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲
                                                𝘔𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘎𝘰𝘳𝘺

Why were you bleeding?
                                                                ­   
                                       
                     ­                                                                 ­                   𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠



𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆



                                          ­              𝘥𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨











                                  ­             He was torn apart

                                                          ­          Her thorns pierced every part

He was the victim
       But no one believed him

                                                            ­                             She was the killer
                                                                ­But who would suspect her        

And now an innocent
        flower is dead

                                                 His blood is on


                                            𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒
I burn in silent flames,

Gazing at an endless static sky.

Bugs crawl beneath my skin,

As I am betrayed by my own fragments.

Even if the body could be spared,

The mind is still impaired.

Who could see me and say,

That I am still a human being?

Broken things are tossed away,

Perhaps it is the same for me.

I wonder when,

My fate shall be decided.

As I lay,

In my raised bed,

Propped before the eyes of God.

Gaze upon me.

Allow me to reach,

Heights above.


But mercy has never met me.


I have suffered for so long.

Will you move this along?

Why must we prolong,

The misery of the sickly,

Just like the anguish of the lonely?

I eat the blessed food and drink,

But holiness escapes me.

This fragile vessel,

Rejects its blessings.


Honored to be so close to heaven,

But I am not so privileged,

To have a taste of paradise.

So I remain,

In my raised bed,

A sanctuary of suffering.

Closest to heaven,

Furthest from,
                                                           ­                       
                                         ­                                                               Pa­radise.
What's worse than a *****?
A girl who wants friends and nothing more.

What's worse than a rake?
A guy who craves love but no bed to shake.

What's worse than fleeting romance?
A bond with no pull, yet endless expanse.

What's worse than shallow lust?
A touch freely given, yet no spark to combust.
"𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒" 𝑑𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑠,
𝑅𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑.
"𝑏𝑢𝑡" 𝑟𝑒𝑗𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑠,
𝐼𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑.
"𝑦𝑒𝑡" 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑠,
𝐹𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑡ℎ 𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.
"𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑛" 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠,
𝑇𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛.

𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮,
𝘌𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘩, 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘺.
𝘈 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥'𝘴 𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦,
𝘐𝘵𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨.
I met an old man
who spoke with such hesitance
all the world's meaning

I met a young girl
who spoke with such confidence
all the world's nothing

To speak of expertise
as if one does not know
seems to be a sign of experience

To speak of trifles
as if one surely knows
seems to be a sign of ignorance


And in both
the old
and the young
I see expressions of love

The young for her friend
the old for his daughter

And from both
the old
and the young
I hear tales of wisdom

a life well-lived
and a life to be lived


The old is experienced
yet I still find ignorance

For he knows his love
yet not his wisdom

The young is ignorant
yet I still find experience

For she knows her wisdom
yet not her love


The old takes shame in every treasure he has
and says such profound words

Inspiring lies refined from truths

The young takes pride in every trifle she finds
and says such profound words

Touching truths discovered through lies


The old man nods his head
and parts ways
knowing we will never meet again

The young girl shakes my hand
and parts ways
hopeful that we could meet again
Apr 4 · 124
Aevonance
It comes.
It crashes.
IT DEVOURS

The wind is a mouth, open, screaming, swallowing branches whole. It gnaws, it rips, it shreds through bark through bone through breath through us.

It does not stop. It does not stop. It does not stop.

IT DOES NOT WAIT

IT DOES NOT PITY

it does not pity

We run. We fly. We thrash we scramble we tear into the sky but the sky is no escape no escape no escape.

NO ESCAPE

Clouds choke air tightens we claw at the dark.

but the dark claws BACK

DO YOU UNDERSTAND

DO YOU SEE IT

DO YOU FEEL IT

The moon tries to flee but it cannot silver pale turns nothing turns void.

It VANISHES

IT IS GONE ERASED CONSUMED

CONSUMED CONSUMED CONSUMED

we tremble we break we FALL

But him.

Still.

Misty sits.

he sits

HE SITS

HOW

the ground tears itself apart the trees beg the sky SCREAMS

but HE SITS

delicate fingers press to splintered bark grazing it honoring it

what is there to honor

what is there to hold

what is there to praise

it is broken

it is falling

IT IS GONE

he breathes

HE SMILES

HE LAUGHS

soft warm impossible

floating through the air floating through the ruin floating through the madness that

SHOULD HAVE SWALLOWED IT AWAY SHOULD HAVE SWALLOWED HIM AWAY

why

why does he stay why does he smile when nothing else does

the ground breaks pleads the sky RIPS OPEN collapsing folding breaking breaking BREAKING

the end is here

the end is here

THE END IS HERE

IT COMES

IT TAKES

IT RIPS

IT TEARS

AND ALL THAT REMAINS IS BREAKING

except HIM

what does he see

what

what is left to praise

WHAT. COULD. HE. POSSIBLY. SEE


~~~   ~ ~ ~   ~~~

branches crack and fall
tumbling like reckless laughter
yet he calls it grace
Part 4 of Misty's Journey


Aevonance (noun) Pronunciation: /'eɪ.və.nəns/

Definition:  

1. The profound and timeless resonance of fleeting moments, wherein the beauty and significance of impermanence echo across memory and eternity.
2. The lingering presence of an idea, emotion, or energy, subtly influencing and shaping the course of existence through thought and feeling.

Example sentence: "Standing in the ancient ruins, Misty felt an undeniable aevonance, as if the voices of the past still whispered through the stones."

(I combined aevum and resonance because I like the juxtaposition of Part 1's meaningless syntactic barrage with Part 4's profound minimalism. Titles deserve some character development too.)
They call him reckless, wild and free.
Drift above or beneath the tide,
He's lost yet grins at all he sees,
They call him reckless, wild and free.
Sail or sink where no trouble be,
He laughs where they thought fear must hide.
They call him reckless, wild and free,
His journey waits on either side.
Part 3 of Misty's Journey
Wind hums gently through the glade,
bamboo bends where soft light fades.
Misty hums in harmony,
leaves dance in kind company.
Ten pleasant stories he trades,
for peace where wisdom pervades.
Laughter softens to stillness,
joy remains where hush persists.
Part 2 of Misty's Journey
Apr 1 · 503
Prestige
~~~ Act I ~~~

Behold the queen.
Drenched in such pathetic,

Luxury.

Behold the king.
Soaking in such unauthentic,

Company.


Have you seen the jack?
He been doin somethin, shady, in the,

Back.

But don't ya worry there's, no plan,
To get, caught, in such synthetic,

Conditions.


Do you feel so esteemed?
With your trifles and titles,
And what's real and what's, not?
Do you feel esteemed?
With your scandals and secrets,
Such typical tricks.


Behold!
There's the, Ace.
Look at his, pretty face.
Absorbing that,

Prestige.

But look at that, glacial, gaze.
He got something to,

Say?


Oh I see that, glacial, gaze.
Lookin at somethin you ain't ever gonna,

See.


Behold, the Ace!
With a disappointed look on his, pretty face.
Looks like he ain't gonna,

Say.


Do you feel so esteemed?
With your trifles and titles,
And what's real and what's not?
Do you feel so esteemed?
With your scandals and secrets,
You're making me sick!


Behold the queen,
Plotting with her pretty,

Ladies.

Behold the king,
Oblivious to such unauthentic,

Company.


Oh, behold!
There's jack and the Ace!
Ace, you gonna put him in his, place?
Don't ya got somethin to, say?
Nah, you ain't gonna,

Say.


You know he's their son anyway.
You wouldn't wanna scare him away.
You wouldn't do that to his,

Face.


His FILTHY!
SICK!
Stupid, face...


That ain't the,

FACE,

of a Jack!

That's the face of a...

SPOILED BRAT!



~~~ Act II ~~~

BEHOLD THE QUEEN!
Who MURDERS her husband,
And spoils her rich little son!
BEHOLD THE ACE!
He got SOMETHIN to say!
But he ain't gonna,

Say.


Just look at that, glacial gaze.
Starin at somethin he ain't ever gonna,

See.


HEY, ACE!
Why don't ya TELL jack,
Ya don't like his shady business!?
Ya scared he ain't gonna, care?
Ya scared mama gonna,

Care?


HEY ACE, HEY ACE!
That ain't the FACE of the Ace!
Not with that glacial, gaze.
You gonna keep starin at somethin you ain't ever gonna,

See?


BEHOLD THE QUEEN!
OH SO ESTEEMED!
LOOK AT HER DRENCHED IN SUCH PATHETIC, LUXURY!
OH, BEHOLD THE KING!
HE DROWNED IN SUCH UNAUTHENTIC, COMPANY!

BEHOLD THE JACK!
DOIN SOMETHIN SHADY IN THE BACK!
HEY, ACE!
You gonna put him in his place!?
You just gonna WATCH this corruption,
Let em all feel so,

Esteemed?

Gonna let a mother ****** her husband,
And spoil her rich little son!?
You gonna let him GET AWAY,
With his DANGEROUS, fun!?

OH, THEY FEEL SO ESTEEMED!
WITH THEIR MURDERS AND TRIFLES,
AND WHAT'S REAL AND WHAT'S NOT!
DO YOU FEEL SO ESTEEMED!?
Workin for his mother, that,

*****?


HEY ACE, HEY ACE!
I get it, you're right!
HEY ACE, HEY ACE!
It's above your,

Paygrade.


Hey Ace, you're right.
It's above your,

Paygrade.

But why ya gotta keep, starin,
At somethin you ain't, ever gonna,

See?


Just let that jack be,
He ain't what ya wanna,

See.


Oh Ace, it's above your, paygrade.
You know he's their son, anyway.
So you just gonna stare, with that, glacial, gaze?
At somethin you ain't ever gonna,

See?

Better hope that, mama, don't,

See.
The Monumental and Unequivocal Victory of Misty Which Without Need for Context or Clarification Shall Be Forever Remembered and Celebrated as the Pinnacle of Human Achievement and the Defining Triumph of All Generations Past, Present, and Future Whose Immeasurable Impact on the Progress of Society and the Elevation of Human Potential Shall Continue to Inspire Awe and Reverence in the Hearts and Minds of Every Individual Across All Continents and Throughout the Endless Span of Time Itself

There was a young lad named Misty.
He laughed with a bottle of whiskey.
Ten stories he told,
Of laundry and gold.
A crash and he fell through the chimney.
Part 1 of Misty's Journey

(Yes, the big chunk of text is the real title, which is clearly far too epic to be contained within the bounds of reason.)
Mar 30 · 238
Tick Tick Charade
Tick Tock, Tick Tock
That's the sound of a clock.
Tick Tock, Tick Tock
What will you do when it stops?

Tick Tock, Tick Tock
That's the sound of a threat.
Tick Tock, Tick Tock
When it stops you will be dead.
Mar 30 · 1.4k
Moth Man
A moth ate my clothes
But I didn't really mind
'Cause he said he was a butterfly

— The End —