I love artists that care. That are interested in your thoughts and see where you’re exploring, and take the time out to compliment your work- or even better, help critique, or suggest things you wouldn’t have thought of.. Or tell you how your work reminds them of something in their lives. Offering new perspectives. I love it when they find things that remind them of my work and take the time to show me. Or when people think of me when they see certain distinct things in the world. I feel like these things are a tangible success, because this is about impression.
I know that people care when they take some time to walk on my path. And I want to walk with others too. I love it when people actually do the things they dream up and talk about. Because I like to act along with them. And to be one to tell them to continue through with their work when they’re having doubts. I like when there’s a certain amount of inherent reliability to them, though no strict obligation to be so.
And I think that relating to each other in this way is not about attention, supply and demand, or being advantageous; it’s a recognition that maybe we’re all actually traveling in the same direction. That we don’t have to compete with one another. Even more, that we can be greater as a sum than as individuals. Most of the time I view competition as if it’s a conversation where everyone is shouting over each other; arguing, lacking intelligence. We all know that the best conversation is about mutual interests, both speaking and listening, exploring new avenues with the voluntary desire to share time and space. These are the best people to work with, to share life with.
feel like I’ve lost the ability to speak.
I’m duller, and I keep bleeding. need to find something new in here
remember when that song came on and I started crying
and you had no idea why.
two years ago I heard it for the first time, and I cried
because I thought it was too beautiful. but also, it sounded so familiar, and so true to me.
in our present we are also our past and our future. I like to think that there’s a parallel dimension where there is no matter nor time, but something else indefinite that coexists with us. and as such, a timelessness is here within us.
and what if sometimes we feel this time mixup? a timeless self that accounts for intuitions, déjá vus. something that isn’t about some determinist future - the opposite, it’s formless, but at the same time it’s entirely everything that we are.
like many other things I’ve experienced too, this is what my song felt like. like a lullaby I’ve knew my whole life but had never remembered or heard out loud. when I first heard it, it was a consolation for my sadness and fears. and so when I heard it again, with you, I realized that at that moment comparatively, I was happier, less afraid. I wasn’t sad.
the greatest art, the greatest moments, amorous feelings and highs: things that seems to have the most weighty meaning - all touch upon, interlap with this timelessness, unanimous and infinite.
It’s not random. I cry when I feel like things are close to some sort of core in my mind. A core of myself that is everything that I have been, am and will be; all of which are vulnerable in seemingly infinite ways.
I cry because these things are important. I cry because I feel them the most. felt with either suffering or joy or everything in between - feelings even unrealized.
whatever it is.
I’ve never really been one
to hold back my tears.
and also today my eyes felt heavy still
so I think
I’ve been crying in my dreams.
familiar flights of mind
so yesterday I said
"I have problems with meaning"
could not find the words to elaborate.
Hearts are everything
the heartbeat, a frequency and vibration in an otherwise lifeless world; miracle motor;
both a vulnerability and strength.
measured in cardiac pulsation
I like to think that if my mind were music, it would be a major key in daytime and minor at night. It could still be a beautiful melody at night, or ugly, but it comes with different tones. Night is when things crawl out of the ground, the coyotes howl reminders.
The music comes to a roar before I finally sleep. The sound may come back in my dreams, maybe more like as if it were filtered through heavy water. Then upon waking it begins again with the sunlight. My music continues, fluctuating in tone, volume, style;
one channel among others, within endless static
Anonymous asked: You inspired me to take a huge leap and shave the side of my head and I have to say it has been one of the greatest decisions in my life in terms of increasing my self worth so thank you thank you thank you
Alright, even though you’re anon I’m going to believe the best and take it that you’re not just being sarcastic-
I am glad I inspired you! I know it feels great to do something different. Self worth does not wholly nor necessarily correlate to our physical appearance, but I think you probably meant it in the sense that that self esteem really settles in when we get increasingly comfortable with ourselves and do more things that feel true and expressive for us. This is where style comes in. So yes, follow what you feel your style is and express yourself!!
Maybe you feel more like a badass now, like I did, even just a little. I liked it because before, strangers usually saw me as this little quiet femme— and I hope that sometimes the undercut gets them to question things about me.
But do anything you feel like to get that badass feeling; the “I’m here and I’m different and this is me,” because it’s great. It’s necessary.
You do you.
I want to talk with you about passion
receding colors, undefined.
why some days I feel like standing in graveyards [maybe just because of the way the light glows on manicured grass] - I am not the city, though I forget
the wilder landscapes.
once I wanted to bury my hands in the soft mud by streams.
I want to talk to you about passion- this clinging thing, this red source, the joy and hurt
my fear of sleep, and how true the moments are when I wake.