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GaryFairy Jul 30
Show no mercy
Leave no witness
You can have mercy without showing mercy. In fact, why in the hell do you need to have or show mercy anyhow?

Witness to what?
As nightly, screens scream,
buckle, near break
with images of blistered humanity
abroad
with normal folk caught
in quick-quick-slow anxiety,
at home
a fat clown
knights a *****
D A W N Jan 8
often times I notice the universe doesn't want me in this place.
like cutting my airways short, sometimes it is hard to breathe.
or the weariness that climbs up my chest.
I know this fear is a void in me but I know it isn't empty.
the world is getting rid of me in subtle, subtle ways no one can see but me.
i was a depressed lil bih-
ART MOMENT, VOL 1
By Darcy Prince

Time or reality is ungoverned, it will remain so for at least in the indefinable future. Innovations will come along. If ethical education has taught us anything. It always changes. Devoid of not making an effort.

I tried painting for a bit. I’m not that good. Several years ago, my housemate recommended watching an Andy Warhol documentary. I honestly became fascinated & dived into several art documentaries, honestly quite a fantastic learning experience. Looking, I regret not collecting all the links to those documentaries, even though I got the time to do so now. This was during the time of getting to know myself again, or getting a sense of direction. Painting, drawing, more attempts to learn, using online videos to learn how to draw a person's eyes or hands was a somewhat slightly disappointing experience, that I should try something else. I can remember the pacific moment to try art writing a go or even getting into any sort of criticism. But I ended up there.

I remember watching the program, ‘different ways of seeing’, aesthetics became a new subject for me. With Alain De Botton, now taking into consideration the larger impact, things have on society. Being utterly fascinated on how some, not all painters have a lasting print on peoples society. Like how Van Gogh never sold a painting within his lifetime. The relation between what we see & what we know is a comforting, settling thing. Seeing the painting ‘scream’, perhaps an early meme or trolling act, without a notice, reflects the inner fear we share. Feeling desired as a lover, maybe the most Holy feeling in the world. For those who aren’t, their artworks are a displaying force of nature. Rothko has provided a new way in expression, with his drape like paintings in a tone of red, as his edges before the canvas ended seemingly lazy at a time when art was supposed to be serious & realistic. And so far, people are the common thread between forms of art.

A time for action is in art. In modern speaking or our armchair conversations over coffee, maybe you’re a tea drinker. My cigarettes will be there. The hashtag learn to code was quite popular, especially when universal income became a new subject for our politicians we are voting in and started to be talked about. Games are a large industry. There’s even arguments for it being art. It does make use for graphics & storytelling. Whether you play it or not. It does include a large amount of thinking to put together. Sure we can talk of the violence it uses. Though outside those who read or try to keep up with modern times. The rise of deep fakes. *** doesn’t belong to a group, race, a part of the city, race. It honestly belongs to the world. Yes, some works of art will rise from it. The obscure thinking never actually seems to fit in. Even in the Star Wars films, there’s a use of passed away actors to be acting in the films they’re releasing now. To remain innocent, is to remain ignorant. Statues of past figureheads of culture may have been adored by the art critic, but the average person has someone they know to be entered in their private virtual world.

I don’t know what your story is. I think art can offer what we’re languishing inside of us. Personally, over the last couple of years, I’ve been wounded by my last breakup. I spent it in bed, I cried, I couldn’t do anything, even food started to taste differently. In romance art, novels in particular, supplemented so much. Being heartbroken. Can you believe that individuals can do so amongst themselves? I’ve heard it argued & arguing successfully, that identity comes from an idea. Art I think, that comes along with that. But art does provide a certain grief, with tragedy developing as its own genre.

I really don’t know where I was going with this. I just wrote it out. But leaving it here, to add to the body of work when I die. But what reconciles an individual with society, to what that person created.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UHsRhWASbvk&t=23s
Cana Jun 2021
It's a little quiet
One day it'll be an all grown up big quiet
But for now, it sneaks around in the brushes
Avoiding predators and spreading anxiety.
The birds hush as it passes,
The wind stops bothering the leaves,
The cats lie flat against the ground
and the dogs bare their teeth at empty spaces.
Then at the behest of some mysterious conductor
The world burst forth into life with renewed vigour,
The little quiet passes and successfully survives the day
Tomorrow It'll be a little bigger until
Who knows why I even bother
Leeann Rose Jan 2021
Love me less , & respect me more ...
I am not a punching bag ..
I am not the reason why you are mad.
Don't yell at me ...
Dont insult me ...
Dont belittle me ..
Like you hate my guts.

Saying you love me, but bruising my heart
Trying to figure out what’s wrong with me?
Got me questioning my worth..
Looking in the mirror, and I can’t get the right angle..
Can’t take pictures, cause I think the camera is broken.. but it’s only you that’s broken ...

You throw words at my head, got me thinking I’m bugging ..
I gotta think straight...
Maybe you love me to hard ..
You say you love me so much..
I need you to love me a little less
And respect me more ...
on the stool the Mantis sat
I watched him for a good while
until he turned to face the piano
stretched his incredibly long legs and arms
and began to play
a version of colorblind so intensely beautiful
it brought tears to my shallow eyes
and warmth to my frozen heart
just after the final note echoed down the hallway
he snagged a fly that had fallen
under the hypnotic beauty of his play
he turned his head in that peculiar way they do
and gazed at me
blinked one giant eye and said
'never assume'
don't ask
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