Perhaps we were seeds
from the same apple, but now
we are trees;
branches reaching out,
roots digging deep.
I Blame the Wine Last Night
I had a dream about you. It was all kinds of strange and sweet.
It was the end of the world, and you held my hand. I felt it, your fingers in between mine; the grooves on your palm, the ridges on your fingertips.
There was a gathering on a field - perhaps a soccer field? (it does bear a significance). Throngs of people fell in lines that led to makeshift booths scattered around the clearing. We all had to register for some sort of Exodus, but we all knew (the way you feel things in your dream-guts) that it was for the end.
The sky was a different shade of overcast. We knew the Lord was coming to destroy the earth, and our mothers were calmly mouthing prayers and fingering rosaries.
We all waited for our turn to sign our names, and once we did, we went back to our cars to go home and wait for the end.
My whole family was already in our white van when you came up to me. Behind you was yours, and it was empty (I dream-thought you were here with your family?).
We’ve always wanted to do this. Do you want to ride with me one last time? You asked.
I trust the Lord, I told you with great certainty. This is not the end, trust me.
You reached out, grabbed my hand and held it tight.
Then I woke up. Is it sad that I’m hoping you had the same one?
So I forgot to have a new set of ID pictures taken for tomorrow, and I don’t want to use my old ones because I had my hair chopped off last Saturday. Decided to take my own photos - but I may not have taken it very seriously and had too much fun.
Time to sleep but I’m struggling, tomorrow feels like the first day of school!
“Watched” Bon Iver on Coachella’s livestream. The internet sucks in our area though. I had to set the video to a hideous quality, just so I can listen to 20 seconds of Bon Iver’s awesomeness, and then 5 seconds of buffering, and then 20 more seconds of pure bliss. I just imagined I was watching them piss-drunk, vision blurry and suffering from sporadic black outs.
God these guys are so amazing.
Someplace Else
Inside, a small bed, white sheets over tough mattress.
A layer of what used to be pale yellow
on rough concrete walls.
Inside, exposed beams on ceiling, pointing
to open window, sills decorated
with smudges of his last cigarette last night,
and this morning’s shit from pigeons (temporary roommates,
they’ve already gone.)
Outside, busy footsteps on pavement,
hands hailing cabs;
small talk, conversations,
perhaps poetry.
Outside, a city of strangers,
unknown, unnamed, unexplored.
I’ve been craving for hummus the past few days, so I decided to make my own instead of buying from the store! Pounded some dry-roasted sesame seeds to a paste instead of using Tahini and I think it worked rather well. Grilled some chicken fillet, chopped some tomatoes and red onions and tossed it in an Asian dressing and the family’s pretty pleased.
Cooking makes me really happy! And fat. But happy!
If this is redemption, why do I bother at all
There’s nothing to mention, and nothing has changed
Still I’d rather be working at something, than praying for the rain
So I wander on, till someone else is saved
There are just some songs that tug at me on a different level. Lethal mixes of amazing imagery and storytelling, intimate vocals and tense instrumentation.
Saint Eustace, or the Jägermeister logo reinterpreted. I’m either very religious, or borderline alcoholic.
(More at myhyperimagination)
“La Luna Bella”
Inspired mostly by Taylor Swift and The Civil Wars’ video Safe and Sound for The Hunger Games soundtrack. (read more at myhyperimagination)
Hey it’s my first sort of real comic! This is what happens when I watch TV, so I have to thank the dumbbox for this. (Continue reading my painful self-explanation at myhyperimagination)
Untitled
You are as unattractive as uncharted oceans
and undiscovered clearings in virgin forests:
Wild, beautiful, and terrifyingly new.
Again, I Remember
There is no escape from you my dear.
Even if the earth should turn itself
away from your face,
your light still smiles down on it,
sometimes a sliver of silver,
sometimes a mouth wide open,
but always aglow with the stars.
Who’s to say a fool today is not a fool full-time? (myhyperimagination)
No, prince, no. Don’t be stupid. Why are you listening to Rihanna?
(Lots of new sketches! I made one of Ant, and of Paul. My hands are on doodle overdrive at myhyperimagination).
Anytime, any place, anywhere, any way.
If you don’t know what song this is from, I’m judging you.
(Source: myhyperimagination)
