Latest Posts by useless12sstuff - Page 3

Your river by the oak tree

has turned molten gold again,

as the glowing orb of light and life surrenders to the sapphire sky.

The cotton clouds float in shy, pink circles

While the rush of the river awakens a memory I had long forgotten,

When this same tree once bore luscious flowers,

Their scent wafting lazily into the cool breeze,

While we sat and reminisced about the possibility of other lives in the universe,

Under the silver moon.

A lot has changed since then.

Since the night we met.

~Me

"No War"

I looked to the east and there was a war.

I looked to the west and there was a war.

I looked north and I looked south and there was a war.

I looked within and there was a war.

I felt no peace, no safety, no comfort anywhere.

With bone deep, aching tiredness, I looked at the arduous journey before me with quiet, blank eyes.

Whatever my destiny maybe, I started with the war within.

I bled and cried out emotions, pains and fears.

Years of souls haunting me from beyond their graves.

I fought and I fought and I fought.

They whispered sweet nothings in my ears. Their sirens call piercing as they wail and they wail and they wail.

I still fought and I fought and I fought.

And before I knew, their voices grew weak.

They washed over me like sea foam, dull and bleak.

Then I built and I built and I built.

After what felt like centuries, I lifted my head.

I looked to the east and I looked to the west.

I looked to the north and I looked to the south.

There was no war, only peace.

~Me

"Totemism", Dime-Store Alchemy: The Art of Joseph Cornell by Charles Simic.

"Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep"

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die.

~Mary Elizabeth Frye

"Desiderata"

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,

and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible without surrender

be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly;

and listen to others,

even the dull and the ignorant;

they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,

they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,

you may become vain and bitter;

for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;

it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs;

for the world is full of trickery.

But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;

many persons strive for high ideals;

and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.

Especially, do not feign affection.

Neither be cynical about love;

for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment

it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,

gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.

But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.

Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,

be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,

no less than the trees and the stars;

you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you,

no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,

whatever you conceive Him to be,

and whatever your labors and aspirations,

in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,

it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful.

Strive to be happy.

~Max Ehrmann

"The Sparrow in my Head"

There is a little sparrow in my head that likes to cause a mess.

It distracts me with its shrill screeching

that bounces against and vibrates my skull.

It flaps its tiny wings and causes a flurry in my head, like a feral hurricane.

It drills against my brain and causes pulsing migraines

and sometimes it nips at my eyeballs.

There is a little sparrow in my head

Shackled and caged behind bars of steel.

It is bruised,broken and battered

And its wings are clipped.

To set it free somebody will have to crack open my skull.

"It's not fair", cries the sparrow.

"Oh but it is fair", I reply,

"Just like, a head for a head,

a tail for a tail,

an eye for an eye,

and your freedom for mine."

The little sparrow gives a sad chirp and droops its wee head.

"Do not despair, little bird", I consol,

"One day you'll be able to fly,

high above, higher than the sky.

For just like in the circle of life,

the day your life begins,

is the day mine ends.

So chin up and wait some more,

just a little more time."

There is a little sparrow in my head that weeps tears of patience.

There is nothing else it can do.

~Me

*Inspired by Bluebird by Charles Bukowski*

“The Strongest Of The Strange”

you won’t see them often

for wherever the crowd is

they are not.

those odd ones, not many

but from them come

the few good paintings

the few good symphonies

the few good books

and other works.

and from the best of

the strange ones perhaps

nothing.

they are their own

paintings

their own

books

their own

music

their own

work.

sometimes I think

I see them – say

a certain old

man sitting on a

certain bench

in a certain way

or

a quick face

going the other way

in a passing

automobile

or

there’s a certain motion

of the hands

of a bag-boy or a bag-girl

while packing supermarket groceries.

sometimes

it is even somebody

you have been

living with

for some time –

you will notice a

lightning quick

glance never seen

from them before.

sometimes

you will only note

their existance suddenly

in vivid recall

some months

some years

after they are

gone.

I remember

such a one –

he was about

20 years old

drunk at 10 a.m.

staring into a cracked

New Orleans mirror

facing dreaming

against the walls of

the world

where

did I

go?

~Charles Bukowski

Depression may be invisible, but your absence is not.

Short Stories #2

2. Waiting

Heels clicked against the polished, stone floor as nurses in white and teal, carrying paperwork and various instruments hurried by. Hands typed on keyboards in a flurry while also picking up calls for appointments and guiding a long line of patients. The smell of disinfectant and sanitizer never failed to assault the senses but you get used to it after a while. Soft murmurs and chatters lazily floated in the room creating a lull in the air which would be shattered by the sudden, alarming announcement for the next patient. Irritation simmered underneath my skin as unruly children ran around untamed, threw magazines at each other and spilled water on the floor while the parents chit chatted or scrolled on their screens. Somewhere in the back a child started wailing. I heaved a deep sigh and felt the beginnings of a pounding headache. I was already here longer than I should have been, absolutely annoyed that they delayed my appointment to twenty minutes later. A man to my right kept distractingly tapping his water bottle, his fingers moving in a synchronized rhythm. The little boy to my left kept shifting in his seat and would get up every two minutes to explore the restroom despite being reprimanded by his mother repeatedly. A woman across me crossed her legs and shook her foot while another tapped her obnoxiously high heeled shoes. Restless and bored, that's what they all were. The wailing of the baby had now reached a high intensity, ear piercing shriek which left the father no choice but to take his child outside. A few people sighed in relief. I, too, heaved another deep sigh but not of relief, as my headache reached its potential and banged against my skull. I wondered, not for the first time, how long it would take for my turn. Till then, I'll be waiting.

"My dear, I have become so familiar with the loss of loved ones that death now seems like family and my grave feels like home."

"If you could see yourself through my eyes ,mom, you'd think that you embedded the diamond stars in the ink stained universe with your bare, calloused hands."

Wisdom is not bought, wisdom is earned.

Short Stories #1

Missing

He disrupted the crisp, foggy air with his hurried gait. A man dressed in a brown trench coat and a peculiar black top hat moved swiftly but stiffly, as if trying to act casual, through the dim lit, narrow, cobbled street of Paris. Mist drifted lazily at his feet due to his fast pace and a crescent moon peeked from behind the dark, heavy set clouds, just barely illuminating the mysterious, harried man's face. Beads of glittering sweat had gathered on his forehead and brows while his face held a sickly pale pallor. Though his face was blank, there was poorly concealed fear in his dark eyes. His hands trembled and lips quivered, twitching the greying goatee on his chin, for the barest second. His shoulders were tensed and held taut and his back was ramrod straight as he took a sharp turn into another street. The lights flickered but he continued, his pace getting swifter. The lampposts puttered and the lights went off allowing darkness to envelope the surrounding. For a long minute there was stillness and silence. Even the echoing clacks of the man's shoes had halted. After a minute, the lights flickered on again and underneath one of the lampposts lay, on the dewy ground, a brown trench coat neatly folded and a peculiar black top hat resting on it. The man himself, was nowhere in sight.

Do you ever get that intense yearning to learn in the middle of the night? The universe, the stars, mythology, languages, art, history, culture, physics, psychology, philosophy and anything and everything you can get your hand on. It's as if knowledge becomes alive at night.

I have privilege as a white person because I can do all of these things without thinking twice:

I can go birding (#ChristianCooper)

I can go jogging (#AmaudArbery)

I can relax in the comfort of my own home (#BothemSean and #AtatianaJefferson)

I can ask for help after being in a car crash (#JonathanFerrell and #RenishaMcBride)

I can have a cellphone (#StephonClark)

I can leave a party to get to safety (#JordanEdwards)

I can play loud music (#JordanDavis)

I can sell CDs (#AltonSterling)

I can sleep (#AiyanaJones)

I can walk from the corner store (#MikeBrown)

I can play cops and robbers (#TamirRice)

I can go to church (#Charleston9)

I can walk home with Skittles (#TrayvonMartin)

I can hold a hair brush while leaving my own bachelor party (#SeanBell)

I can party on New Years (#OscarGrant)

I can get a normal traffic ticket (#SandraBland)

I can lawfully carry a weapon (#PhilandoCastile)

I can break down on a public road with car problems (#CoreyJones)

I can shop at Walmart (#JohnCrawford)

I can have a disabled vehicle (#TerrenceCrutcher)

I can read a book in my own car (#KeithScott)

I can be a 10yr old walking with our grandfather (#CliffordGlover)

I can decorate for a party (#ClaudeReese)

I can ask a cop a question (#RandyEvans)

I can cash a check in peace (#YvonneSmallwood)

I can take out my wallet (#AmadouDiallo)

I can run (#WalterScott)

I can breathe (#EricGarner)

I can live (#FreddieGray)

I CAN BE ARRESTED WITHOUT THE FEAR OF BEING MURDERED (#GeorgeFloyd)

—

White privilege is real. Take a minute to consider a Black person’s experience today.

#BlackLivesMatter

*I copied and pasted this ... please do the same.

We will breathe for the dead. They cannot suffocate all of us. Honor their legacy. Rest in Power kings and queens. ✊🏻✊🏼✊🏽✊🏾✊🏿

One day we will be able to breathe again.

He said, with wise, young eyes, a single tear almost cascading down his cheek, "Ya ukhti, I cannot sleep. I had to bury my father, then my mother, then my sister." He swallowed hard, "Ya ukhti", his voice trembling, he continues, "Ya ukhti, my toys they bleed, I'm scared I'll have to bury them too."

i hate everyone on twitter posting one liner quips about iran right now

We, humans, have a natural ability called neuroplasticity, which means we learn new knowledge and have new experiences, we can develop new networks or circuits of neurons and literally change our minds. But remember, if you're not having fun, you're not learning. There's pleasure in finding out things.

"The voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes but in having new news"

-Marcel Proust

My atoms have always know and loved your atoms. Maybe that is why we understand each other like nobody else. Maybe our souls met in the beyond, since before our birth, in a place which escapes our imagination. Maybe we're atoms and dust from the same star, its explosion scattering us into the abyss. Yet we were fortunate enough to have met. Maybe it was our destiny to meet one another, our names written beside each other in elegant script from a divine pen and scribe high up in the heavens, watched upon by The King of all kings. We humans have labeled this partnership as "best friends" or "soul mates". Some even call us "family". These are the people who have learned the pattern of our atoms inside out and yet have the courage to love us and keep us company on this cold, space rock orbiting a burning star in the middle of nowhere. These people are always there for you, reliable and trustworthy and if that is so, then yes. Yes, you are my best friend, my soul mate, my family. May we meet again in the highest of heaven. Till death do us apart and heaven reunite us again.

Cotton candy clouds

pink dreams

more on my instagram @matialonsor

The Elements

Earth, the element of life, calmness, stability, prosperity, fertility and above all growth. Deep emerald hues, soft with the ever present warmth, the colour of nature itself. Eyes the colour of soil after rain, which glow amber and molten gold as the sunlight pierces through them. So reliable, yet unpredictable, stable but dangerous in its anger. Displeasing Earth would indeed be unwise. Watch as those emerald orbs darken to a shade thought impossible. Watch as those honey brown pools usually offering security turn into black holes ready to swallow you whole. You can't be saved from falling. There won't be any calmness that it once stood for. Its earthquakes loud and destructive with the roar of thunder in its might to prove, to punish those call upon its wrath. It will shatter you.

The wisdom lies deep in its dust. Earth is a metaphor for healing. The ambition to grow and over power weakness, a leader in the making, eyes glinting with the knowledge of a tale older than time itself. A source of reliability, trust and a home to always welcome you back, to hold you.

Earth might break and crack but it will heal in its own time, with beauty, because, oh my dear, Earth, after all, is destined to grow.

Water, the element of purity, mystique, charm, beauty and solitude. Dark sapphire eyes, making you believe that the royal blue sky is enclosed in those orbs, drowning you in their depths with you being a willing participant. Its quiet mystique will charm and call to you, the call of a siren. It will shimmer and glitter in ways you've never seen before, making you sink a little deeper, slowly slowly slowly.

It is the calm before a storm, the false sense of security. It will seduce, waves crashing and cascading over each other, its aroma in your lungs and its whispers of its purity in your ears, making you want to unravel the mystery before you. It will shimmer and shine prettily, as if in shyness, but look a little deeper, wander into the dense darkness and you'll discover the darkness within. At last you differentiated between the persona and reality, but it's too late, you are surrounded.

Dangerous yet graceful in its anger and destruction, its waves roaring louder than the wind, sometimes subtle but so magnificent, quite a sight to behold in all its powerful glory. You never mattered to it. You are one of the many victims that have ventured out to its mysterious beauty only to sink into its claws of deep, dark depths.

It is powerful and heavy and beautiful and it is, above all, aware, confident of its ability. It is unpredictable, sometimes calm and in control, other times wild and terrifying. But this is a ploy to subtly show who is in charge, because, oh my dear, Water, after all, is destined to lure and charm.

Fire, the element of rage, boldness, danger, destruction and raw passion. Those molten pools of lava watching you with smoldering intensity from which you couldn't look away from even if you wanted to. It is untamed, brash and its confidence and boldness outweighs every everything. Its path is set on destruction, it is meant to take over, to conquer. But when handled right, it provides warmth and light unlike any.

Its passion is what drives it, pure fury and anger, overwhelming and blinding in their intensity. Get too close and you might burn. These untamed, passionate beasts convince you in the existence of mythological creatures. It is like a feral animal and magma combined, trapped in a body far smaller than it. You can see it in those burning hellish eyes. Like a Phoenix this fire never dies, the spark might sputter and decrease. Just when you feel like you tamed this inferno of rage only for it to rise from its ashes, burn brighter than before and eat away at everything in its path.

Nothing can stand between fire and its goals. It will go to dubious heights to achieve what it wants. It is undefeated because, oh my dear, fire, after all is destined to conquer.

4. Air

Air, the element of mischief, flight and freedom. That one element that messes with all the other elements. Its mischief is quite often troublesome. That one element that ruffles all the feathers. It will blow away the earth, crack the moist soil, push water to its breaking point and spread the flames with relative ease. The embodiment of chaos.

Greys that merge into silver when alight with mischief and cheerfulness. Rarely do you expect something extremely terrible from them, because while it might be mischievous, it is rarely ever malicious. Its mood varies from time to time. Sometimes it is a force to be reckoned with. Its gales powerful enough to make the mountains crumble, the sea to part and the fire to extinguish. Sometimes or more often than not, it is a light, whispering, playful breeze, tugging at the hems of your trousers. But once in a while, just sometimes, it is quiet, tired and still. There is no sign of it.

It is a traveler, a free, restless spirit in all its childish glory, that is always moving, unable to stay in a place for long. The rules don't apply to it, it creates its own rules. While others are set straight in their ways, the air just doesn't bother with all the frivolity. It will transport and carry the echoes of booming laughter and giggles that were lost. It will carry the scent of sweet summer flowers and it will be the crisp, cold wind of winter. It will transport pollen after playing with it and it will blow leaves around during autumn, creating an artful mess. Air is the child that is left by itself and free to do whatever it wills, so it plays messenger and partakes in pointless mischief and pranks. It will push the clouds just to watch them float and it will create waves to watch them wash over the land. It will give birds leverage to fly, while playing with their feathers, and cooling the rest of the animals that can't fly. But besides all of this, it is the epitome of freedom and flight and, dare I say, the most powerful element.

Air is not held by down by expectations, it will do what it wills, whenever it wills because, oh my dear, Air, after all, is destined to spread its wings and fly to freedom.

They looked over from the cliff, hand in hand, into the void. The presence of each other, the burning warmth of their hands and the intensity of their love was enough to null the feeling of loss, of loneliness and above all, the crushing hopelessness and suffocating fear. Here they were safe, they were determined and most importantly they were ready. And they were ready together. They did not possess the knowledge if their friendship would last more than one lifetime, but for now they would make it last forever, as long their flame burns and they draw their breaths, as long as their eyes glitter with determination. They will last. All was not alright, but it will be, and they'll be there together. They were enough.

"Watch a man flow with the river of love, watch him emerge and then watch him flourish."

okay but why are all gifted/talented kids gay and/or depressed now

Back-To-School Essentials 

I don’t give two shits if it makes you uncomfortable. That’s what it’s supposed to do.

Everyone who reblogs this will get the title of a book to read based on their bio/posts.

Everyone. I mean it.

Woww

her hair and lips change to the color of your blog

SOMEONE TAGGED ME IN THIS AND I-