This is first, and foremost, and atheism blog. All other things I blog either stem from ideas and thoughts I have gained through my atheism, or things I genuinely enjoy.
I am a lover of my love, and musician of my music, a humanist of my human nature, and an intellectual of my intellect.
I am a lover of my love, and musician of my music, a humanist of my human nature, and an intellectual of my intellect.
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➜
Pull the drawstrings nice and tight.
Keep pulling ‘til you
suffocate and your last breath comes
strained and gasping.
It hurts, but it’s impossible to stop.
This isn’t suicide;
This is matricide.
This is patricide.
This is infanticide.
This is homicide.
This is the killing of an idea; of the
people who’ve mentally collapsed
upon a bed of corpses. Each
lifeless vessel duped into devouring
the lies spoon-fed to them and
centuries of nameless people crying out
in a raucous din, “Where is my
Justice? Where is my peace?
Where is my salvation?”
Yes, they had been tricked,
but so have we.
I inch the drawstrings further apart.
All of humanity dies in
one swift motion.
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➜
My throat is collapsing on itself.
The four steps out my door
have me gasping for breath,
as life itself claws at my chest
attempting to rip open
my skin.
“This too, shall pass.”
“This too, shall pass.”
But not just my skin;
Turning the corner,
I feel it’s hand dig deep,
deep, deeper
into my skin. Breaking
the flesh and revealing
wounds of past.
“This too, shall pass.”
“This too, shall pass.”
Groping the wall beside me,
I return
home.
My chest aches as I tell myself:
“This too, shall pass.”
-jidfurikuri
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➜
Time for some creepy/crazy poetry I’ve written in my heightened-emotion hour of the evening. I’ve also made this into a through-composed song on mandolin with runs for voice that I personally can’t sing well but if I notate it, I’m sure someone can.
I hope you enjoy…I guess.
….
…
..
.
I yearned for this once,
Not anymore.
Bring it back,
Bring it back,
Bring him back,
I implore.
My eyes have gone black,
My wrists have gone red.
My skin’s turning yellow,
I’m clinging to shreds.
What’s left of us?
Help me.
Help me.
Help me, help him.
I’m scared.
I’m frightened.
I’m afraid,
I cannot share.
I am jealous.
I am cruel.
I am evil.
You are my fuel.
You are my fuel.
I am the fire,
Add to my flames:
Flicking, cracking, burning,
I overwhelm you
And compel you to stay.
I beg you,
Come back.
-
Words are like apples:
They’re great to pick - but dammit,
Watch where you throw them.via philocoffee➜ -
(I think I came up with the first two lines while making pizza at work tonight. The last two lines came after I got home shortly before midnight. I’m not sure if I’ll add to this or not.)
Economic circumstances prevent travel
My sanity is beginning to unravel
I miss the old days of fun and novelty
but alas! for now, I am stuck in poverty.
This is a neat summation of my life also.
via etheric-nomad➜ -
➜Your homecoming will be my homecomingE. E. Cummings (via forbrookeforeverago)
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Listen to the MUSTN’TS child,
Listen to the DON’TS
Listen to the SHOULDN’TS
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON’TS
Listen to the NEVER HAVES
Then listen close to me-
Anything can happen, child,
ANYTHING can be.Shel Silverstein: Listen to the Mustn’ts (via ohshockhorror)via athenasowlery➜
