February 2012
19 posts
1 tag
Alone
I like being alone. I walk alone, I take the bus and the train alone, I go to and leave my classes alone. I sleep alone, I wake up alone, I eat alone. The silence is comforting.
But when I see a couple, a linkage of friends, a parent or guardian with a child, I yearn for another warm body to be next to mine. To change my every day face of indifference into one that bares a smile or something...
2 tags
Escape
My economics professor told us in a lecture one time that we New Yorkers—native and “converted”—are living in a cocoon. We are closed off from the rest of America, too busy angrily walking fast on concrete, always in a rush, with our eyes and ears glued on our smartphones…or any other sort of technological advancement. He said we’re ungrateful for our cheap mass...
5 tags
My life consists of missed opportunities, late realizations, unspoken words, unexpressed yearnings, and desires to be both alone yet not alone.
Lately, I’ve found myself closing my eyes as the night settles in, going back in time to my days in high school. I find myself going back to the first boy who said he liked me. I’ve always been made fun up every year before that, the usual...
Anonymous asked: Who's the lucky person you gave the painting to?
3 tags
Anonymous asked: you do have an ugly face. but actually your tears make your naturally ugly face a little better looking. you should cry more. [;
Hey Sam,
You have an ugly crying face. Crying before you sleep means swollen eyes the next day. There’s some business school ass you need to kick. Focus.
4 tags
Angus & Julia Stone - Draw Your Swords
Midnight. I’m sitting on the sidewalk. The street is empty and quiet; only the breeze is audible. It’s cold. A thin layer of frosty white covers the gravel. A car stops in front of me. Out comes my father.
“What are you doing out here without a coat? At this time, too! Get inside.”
I’m still, still and silent. He stands and waits, then eventually gives up, heading...
It is 5:53 in the morning and I’m painting silently with my blanket draped over my shoulders. The floor’s cold, but I don’t want to cause yet another mishap on my bed. I can deal. Another swig from the bottle and I laugh. Not too loudly though, the family will wake.
Family. What is family? Is it the traditional mother, father, and a sibling or two? Or more? Does your definition...
Anonymous asked: what are you stressed about? :(
Stress and anxiety has caused me to scratch open an old scar of mine I thought healed over a couple of years ago. It has found refuge below my navel, off to my right, but to the left of whoever lays eyes on me.
Small open wounds litter the surface; little open pink-red tears leak a clear gold-hued plasma fused with the dark ruby red of blood on darkened brown-red skin. Dead, damaged, permanent....
1 tag
1 tag
I am a person of few words and many thoughts. Whatever is said, there is meaning. My silence does not mean ignorance; it is time spent listening and biding.
Anonymous asked: you have great stuff; so artsy fartsy.
3 tags
“Do you ever get that feeling where you don’t want to talk to anybody? You don’t...”
– (via e-skimo)
2 tags
It’s four in the morning, almost five.
I’ve been silent for the past week or so, on here and in person. The people I least expected to take my silence as ignorance have branded me as negligent and ungrateful for their existence. I’ve told myself every time it has happened that abandonment is a natural part of life. It’s just how things are. However, the rate at which it...