when is it ever worth it?
when you give up what makes you you, what reminds you everyday of who you are, you lose sight of why you sold your soul in the first place, which almost always costs you what you wanted in the first place. at least in stories.
but it makes sense that that storyline doesn’t ever change because the only way you’re able to keep sight of what you’re doing is from outside sources, well those reserves run out. and even good people die. and without a soul you’re that much more vulnerable to reacting when the light flickers. because you no longer have that inner voice telling you to persevere.
i think i used to think much more machiavellian because it seemed to be the quickest way to achieve the short term goals i needed to achieve and the connections i felt like i needed to have but now i’m not so sure. perhaps i just wasn’t smart with it but i believe somewhere along the way i lost my soul. i no longer see the path i’m supposed to take because it’s clouded over with fear.
luckily this isn’t a story, right?
i turned 24
i ate sausage gravy and biscuits for the first time (fantastic, by the way)
i was reunited with my dog after our first vacation away
i got a second-round interview type thing
i was given a one-off job on friday that will be really, really awesome
i put a ton of lotion on my body because i have neglected to buy sunscreen but then on the ride back from maine i bought sunscreen so i should be good in a little bit but until then, shoulder pain
i drove 5 hrs and 50 min from portland maine to randolph new jersey.
& lastly i did this:
sleepy eyes sleepy ears
soaked by thin streams
drunken gingerly, overflowing
into heavy lids heavy flesh
intonations dark and syrupy
slowly, slowly warmed hearts beat slowly
warmed breath leaves slowly
rumbles in sleepy heads
i can’t actually art this is a sham.
(bugs of my childhood + something i titled in sims for an author sim. the muse keeps chugging my tea. she also doesn’t fucking exist so i have to do this all myself while half asleep even as my tea disappears.)
Source: www.deviantart.com/art/She-Has-Her-Sources-113515422 but the artist seems to have abandoned her account.
Tender dawn opens over the sky
a curtain of gossamer as thick as gold
a silk worm’s blood
Thinkin’ bout little lightning bugs that dominated summer, the light show circus go on to find better jobs
(caged in bottles)
only the determined light the grass and the walls in the heat of a sleeping sun.
but despite their hard work there
just aren’t enough
to fight the heated lanterns.
to fight outtrick the light.
Thinkin’ bout monarch caterpillars, dark and mottled and wide
of a caterpillar, harmless
walls are warm, and sterile
so I threw them out of school so they wouldn’t die starving
Thinkin’ bout dead ladybugs and beating little wings like glittering fire on carpet and on stone and uncomfortable steps and no fear just exasperation.
why you gotta get yourself killed like that. suffocate yourselves
suffocate each other
The nine-spotted moth crashes into grass-studded rock,
antenna bent and wings spread.
Money is importante. Especially now that we have a republican government that will work to keep private industries private and halt the de-privatization of industries that were heading that direction. You’ll need moolah for those days both life and government will overlap in being very unkind. Like a painful menage a tois. FYI, this is probably not a time where you should be stimulating the economy, for your own sake. Read More