It's the only life, after all

the water is wide

no subject.

Love cannot be wrong.

Hard Arguments.

I deserve better.

You, the coward. You, the one who promises the world and then hides in his cave. You, the one who could change my life, and has - over and over again, yet chooses to pretend that I don't exist. You, the one who told me it was OK! and then went and decided that it's not true, that it couldn't have been true, and for all I know, the sky is green!

There are people that enter our lives every day, but for some reason we can only hold onto a select few. For me, you were the person. The one I compared everyone to. The one I put up on a pedestal and hoped that one day maybe someone else I met might reach almost as high.

It's a shame, because now if I keep with my tradition, no one will have anything to measure up to anymore. I may as well have no standards at all. No expectations, that's for sure.

You are afraid to open your eyes even though deep inside you know the only thing waiting for you is me - meeting your every gaze. 

It doesn't help that you're so far away.

And so, for the rest of your life I will be with you, in your dreams at night and your thoughts in the day. It will not grow easier with time, but harder. I will not fade. I will not falter. I will not disappear. There will not be a day that I don't cross your mind. You will live with that regret forever, where as I will have none - because I have done everything in my power to help you see me.

God help the boy who lives with his eyes closed. He will one day fall. Hard.

Who will be there to pick you up?

I could be too far gone to reach you by then.

Hopefully you're smart. Hopefully you still read this.

Art objects to the lie against life that it is pointless and mean. The message coloured through time is not lack but abundance, not silence but many voices. Art, all art is the communication cord that cannot be snapped by indifference or disaster. Against the daily death it does not die.

Art Objects: Essays on Ecstasy and Effrontery 

Jeanette Winterson

you spoke to me in siren song, anyone would drown

I never want to see you unhappy.

-----

Is there always something greater? or is this the greatest?

-----

Fishnets and fighting clothes

you don't know what to do with those

a foreign language is

only the beginning

of this trip we're taking

in the middle of

the Bleak

mid-winter

-----

I thought it should be known that I play this song every day.

I also found another arrangement of it and discovered a missing, rather upsetting verse.

The water is wide, I cannot get o'er,

and neither have I wings to fly;

give me a boat that will carry two,

and both shall row, my love and I.

O down in the meadows the other day,

a gath'ring flow'rs both bright and gay,

a gath'ring flow'rs both red and blue,

I little thought what love can do.

I leaned my back up against an oak

thinking that he was a trusty tree;

but first he bended and then he broke;

and so did my false love to me.

A ship there is and she sails the sea,

she's loaded deep as deep can be,

but not so deep as the love I'm in:

I know not if I sink or swim.

I put my hand in some soft bush,

thinking the sweetest flow'r to find,

I pricked my finger to the bone,

and left the sweetest flow'r behind.

O love is handsome and love is fine,

and love's a jewel while it is new,

but when it is old it groweth cold,

and fades away like morning dew.

Blu

Blue.

Blue eyes

Blue hair?

Blue fingernails.

Blue lights in the subway

Blue doors

Blue sky

Blue bag

Blue tile

Blue paint

Blue suit

Blue building

Blue Brain!

Blue blood

Blue bug

Blue ocean

Blue eyes.

Blue.

waiting for the G

FED UP

in love.

Do you know where to find your home?

Because I painted it Grey

and cut down all the trees

and your front door is boarded up.

shhhhhh!hhhhhh.

your heart is where your leave it.

It sometimes pays to have a bad memory.

or did you cut yours into pieces - too small to hold?