no, we can't trade places, there's no where you can run or hide; our lives are strangely ours to own, so it doesn't matter where we go, we're stuck on this side. perceptions ours to change or keep; we look down at our hands, what a vivid experience this is, i often wonder if this is a dream, maybe we're one eternal being deep asleep, holding on dearly to a reality that never had to be, yet will always be our own.
nevermore fall for girls who fall for those sick tropes of false men successful powerful wealthy predatory alphas Bruce Waynes Christian Grays driving around in red sports cars banging everything that walks their way and leaving as leaving a crime scene leaving no clues all these imagos of a broken culture I don’t care for you stupid men who measure up with ...
To get home, I take the trudge through this warzone every day. Broken bottles line the sidewalk. Well people have to cope somehow. Sunlight never shines through the blinds because the widows are boarded.
This isn’t the type of place you go sightseeing, but I’ll be your tourguide for today. First stop is the corner store; here you’ll find the toothless men who leave the broken bottles. I’m sure whatever story they’re telling is great. Truly sad it is that you nor I will ever be able to decipher their slurred tales.
Stuck in the asphalt, avoiding any eye contact, like bound. Get home lie around, talk shit about your enemy celebrity like there is nothing going on on your life. Trash talk til a toxic shock gives you a high... The sun sets and the moon rises So many footprints covered faces, amongst all the trash laying at their own places Phrases, naked, voices, wasted... A magical mind of a society, on earth.
she walks on tip toe through the halls (a stranger in her dwelling place) stealing a view of the outside crisp cold permeates through old windows branches are encrusted in clear ice everything still ... she takes a picture of the moment
voices cascade into the hall laughter and impassioned voices she freezes, not wanting to be heard an eavesdropper she is not she does not know who they are they come and go leaving their loud echoes in the hallways at all hours
This colleague was recounting a workplace experience late last night and my policy is you can bring me anything but some shit about a fucking relationship not when people are sick going back and forth to the hospital, trying to keep basic bills paid among office politics and looking for ways to negotiate life on their terms; we don’t have that kind of toleration for foolishness. Now, feminism that’s all academic: more bullshit that has little applicability; real world relevance on a day to day basis for most of us (it’s good for showing face; showing that policy studies is making tracks but...