"Diane, it’s 8am, Seattle, Washington…"
22 | they/he
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Category: Life
A mirror, this play was. My university was holding the first showing of Romeo and Juliet, but they’d re-created the story into a half modern tale. One of those renditions where they make part of it relatable to our time while keeping the same Shakespearian dialect. I’d been told this and that about the quality of the play, and I had been in the know of some backstage drama that’d floated around in... » Continue Reading
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Category: Art and Photography
Hi I drew something Still love this creature design from awhile back. » Continue Reading
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Category: Writing and Poetry
Discomfort follows me into my first conscious breath. The immediate sensation of damp sweat collecting underneath me is the sole motivator of my movements as I rouse my body to collect the heavenly cool air that pulses through my room. I slowly work the feeling through my body that I’m awake again, as if I’m some leaderless soldier trying to find out where the battle is, my body wakes in some stra... » Continue Reading
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Category: Art and Photography
frontier humans, bracing for tomorrow the black hole soldier (I don’t know what I wrote he » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
Angels kiss. Milky white skin. Your hand in mine. I’ve discovered the source of all that is good and evil, all that populates and destroys and loves. I’ve crossed a boundary now, may it not be so ghastly, but I will say now, I've changed. I have become what was programmed into my very core in this wretched flesh and hormone-induced living coma. Tears. Why? Why do I cry, softly, after I saw you? D... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
I’m still aching, even after all that I have now. A midnight visitor, not unlike the small mammals that lurk around my presence, but one that’s been gnawing at my flesh. A parasite that drags me deeper into the sea of anguish and distraction. No work is ever done when the heart is addicted. No progress is ever made when I’m trapped in the arms of someone that provides no relief, but a living subst... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
When I woke up, I asked myself, "What am I here for?" For friendship, for learning, for personal growth? Meaning of life? To have a good time? To evolve or shrink? The shame leaked into my dreams. That's when the real torture happens. When does one feel "true" love? As in, the emotion of loving someone. I can't even describe it. I don't think I've ever felt "love". Sure, I've been in romantic rela... » Continue Reading
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Category: Quiz/Survey
1) WHAT IS YOUR IDEA OF PERFECT HAPPINESS? Being in a forest. 2) WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST FEAR? That my life amounts to nothing, and no effort can raise me from the hole I’ve buried myself in. That the cycle is permanent now, that I will always be abandoned. 3) WHAT IS THE TRAIT YOU MOST DEPLORE IN YOURSELF? I’m too neurotic to function properly without some kind of obsession. 4) WHAT IS THE TRAIT... » Continue Reading
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Category: Life
When the body collides with the ground without permission, the days turn soft and gray. Odd, the sensation of crumpled legs, my curled form writhing in nauseating pain in a room of young eyes. Pain, public momentary mortality flares through the openings of muscle and bone, brings out the humility. I am taken back decades of mankind’s actions as those, now am confident in my label, my friends, comp... » Continue Reading
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Category: Life
Joyous times granted once for this crippled fool, who’s mind is so weary and fickle that even a room full of laughter leaves him wandering back to the self-made axe, to chop away again at his dying will to keep smiling. Even with good company, a hearty stomach and a warm side the old fool weeps at his misfortune of having to be a mortal, time-bound flesh mound. To what end will this pity tear at t... » Continue Reading
Category: Music
'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, that's life Tryna make ends meet, tryna fi » Continue Reading
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