There are those.
There are those whom make up what we are.
The ones that stared into the hopeful eyes of our childhood and made way for the path.
Whom gave us the drive to be what our hearts most desired, and along the way smiled with pride.
The ones who gave us the wisest of words, and the [...]
Tags: Love.
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to you, whom made me who i am.
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regrets resurface.
Much like the winds of spring bringing in the new, their love soared.
It was a glimmer in time when all was calm and well.
Her laughter was genuine, his thoughts complete.
But just as the rose wilts and the winter cold sets in, their love had given its last breathe.
It was a three years full of happiness. It was [...] -
the love tribulations of sir Jack Dust.
There once was a particle of dust.
It floated from left to right, up and down, and quite typically; round and round.
It did not crisscross, or zigzaggy-do, but it sure did like that stew.
Next to a carrot it fell, just boiling and swell.
A family of green beans floated by and yelled to him:
“Hey Jack! Guess there’s [...] -
c’est belle problème.
I’ll tell you what the problem is buddy.
Oh I’ll tell you what the problem is indeed.No longer do humans express themselves.
Sexuality is repressed.
Love is avoided.
Art is mundane.
Women have become men, men have become women.
Personality is objective, marriage subjective.
Disagreement silenced, and agreement necessary.
Regrets abundant, risks scarce.
Music inspired, not created.
Objects improved, not invented.
Beauty materialized, materialization beautified.
Discipline undermined, [...] -
dirty ends.
You watch the clock, the typical tick scratches the sides of the brain.
This thing. This thing called time.
A picture frame, the artists you seek to blame.
Dark martini, no fucking lime.
It is not the loves that you proclaim, but the true creations of disdain.
A telephone ring, a partner in crime, the key to the line.
Assign, Refine, [...]
