
@theartofmadeline

romaâ
todays bird

Discoholic đŞŠ

Origami Around
Misplaced Lens Cap
occasionally subtle


blake kathryn

Kaledo Art
ojovivo
One Nice Bug Per Day

#extradirty
Peter Solarz
AnasAbdin
DEAR READER

çĽćĽ / Permanent Vacation

oozey mess
wallacepolsom

seen from Kyrgyzstan

seen from United States
seen from India
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seen from France

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
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seen from Argentina

seen from Japan
seen from Bangladesh
@energizedafterlunch

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Moebius, Venise CĂŠleste
Rain at the window rapping tapping incessant alliterate slapping Rats in the septic Scurrying, hurrying Fecal fun lack of sun Ticks and tocks, aging clocks A house of nerves painful feels Lost literature scrolls, scribbles Sumarian murmurs old, very old The mind milks books, lactic separation The words fall freely Separation anxiety Time on a wait Your fate, an hour late Kiss me slowly, don't separate

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All these fucking people are just the same iteration leading to a slot, among slots, stacked, in a row and waiting, blinking, trying to be unique, by being just as basic and boring and stupid as their last mould. What are you trying to achieve? People are fucking brands now, stitched from a bunch of fucking shit Because we're all suffering our slotted pain alone, but in rows and columns together, all so unique, all of us so over it, all of us skinny trashy druggy Satan loving knife holding fucks drooling over each other What kind of fucking game do you think this is, huh? Wake up!
American football is one of the worst things to have ever happened to young people, higher education, our culture and our country.Â
Itâs another war weâre fighting; we send our youth to college to be brainwashed and diluted, we send our youth to faraway exotic places to be brainwashed, diluted and and angry, they arenât that different. What is this obsession we have with anger? Football is angry. War is angry. And patriotism is becoming synonymous with anger. Hate. Intolerance. A different school, a different team, a different country, a different people.Â
This is what needs to be said to you, but is also something I can never say.Â
You say he loves you. You halfway believe this fantasy, because somewhere, you know it is true. But he loves you in a way that completes his own person, which is a lazy, selfish endeavor that robs you of who you are.Â
He âlovesâ you in a way that fills the voids he harbors, that emancipates his insecurities, sterilizes and cauterizes them.Â
In order to love someone authentically, you must first be content with who you are, and he is not.Â
That is not to his fault, and should provide perspective to the observer, being able to understand that this is not a mode of malicious intent, but rather his immaturity and lack of growth speaking. He is intelligent and full of potential, but still a child, and has much growing to do.Â
Love is many things, but one of these undeniable things that composes the definition of love is trust. Trust in yourself and trust in your partner. You say he loves you, yet he accuses you of unfaithful exploits. You say he loves you yet he continues to question you after you repeatedly explain to him the truth. You say he loves you yet he even goes so far as to search through your phone and completely violate your personal space, against your word.....this kind of cold war honesty is fucking disgusting and un fuckin holy. He is not a man, but a child. If love ainât trust then what the fuck is it? If you canât trust someone how can you love them? He loves what he feels. He doesnât feel love for the present or future, he operates on now. He operates on what he feels.Â
Devilishly DavisÂ
Delightful and true
Dangerous, less docileÂ
Darkness, her hue
Fruits and fries, and ice cream too
To the calorie counters, âfuck you!â
Iâve said it before and iâll say it again
That skinny look? Those thigh gaps?
We do it for men!
Eat what you want, food is your call
Those phallic fake friends under my skin
Off with their heads! Lord, kill emâ all! (gesture)
Sleek highway of hair, so unfair (eyes)
Coo and cry the girls, here, and there
Jealousy, a deep ringing, thick in the air
Gossip and talk circles the block
Rumors amuck, but none of them stuck
She sheds emâ like tables
Turninâ emâ, burninâ emâ,
Blowinâ em up!
Quick like a switchbladeÂ
Cunning and sharp
Over your shoulder should you be looking
While alone in the dark
A squeezy surprise makes me jump highÂ
Sheâll fuck with you gladly
But thatâs okay
I like it, alright.
Never drinking again, she promises and plans
Ethanol, quite the charlatanÂ
A few weeks later, a drink in her hand
No judging, itâs Stickmen, we understand.Â
Sour beers only, kissed by melons, warmly
Devilishly Davis
Delightful and true
Dangerous, less docile
Darkness, her hue
Sunlight pours out of you, in the most measured, understanding, maternal, disciplined and affectionate way. Iâm so lucky to know you, much less call you my dear friend. I tip my hat to you every day, envious and celebratory of your antics and mannerisms. Youâd be great at everything you hesitate at, you would excel and bury the competition. Your greatest flaw isnât your low self esteem, but the way you cling to the things that have been said to you, holding them tight and true, yet they are mere counterfeits and charlatans to keep you from your full potential and are signs of a deeper insecurity that has nothing to do with you. It is sad to know this, but it is tragic to see it manifest and it hurts me deeply to see you devalued and misunderstood. It is a scar of which the pain never ceases. But when you smile, the sunlight, hope, happiness and authenticity it unleashes is practically incomprehensible and joy-inducing. I cannot describe the feelings I have for you, but I want someone to know that they exist in a very real way, whether they can be quantified or not they are there, perhaps invisible, but influential and significant. Iâll always be your friend, confidant, and maybe, one day, lover. Iâll be there for you in whatever capacity you need me to be.Â

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Sam eats spam, potatoes and ham
He chows and chowsÂ
Collecting poundsÂ
Occasionally a crayon
Sam eats what he canÂ
Pounds and pounds means pumping outÂ
All the food collected
In Big Dickâs mouth
Upset tummy makes mom worry
Off to emergency, quick, hurry!
Pig in tow, to the vet we go
A Boomba in front;
A white coat listens
As mom explains why this food whore needs to get pumpedÂ
Patient in the waiting room
Non life-threatening, woohoo!
Piled in the car we begin home
Children sleeping deeply
And all is right with the world
Maybe if I just fall asleep, the swelling will cease, the pain will ebb, and the fears will be swallowed. But alas, pain. Pain in light, pain in dark. Pain is life, pain is your existence. Swallow, or die.
Iâm so restless and uncomfortable all the time, goddamnitÂ
Settled in, a plot of land
Laid hands on hens and fields to tendÂ
A full life ahead, a solid plan
She went heavy he got ugly
Transformations all around
No more horses no more cows
The land gone tan,
The mortgage loud
Age does as age do,
His health no longer true
Cancer from the split in his tooth
To the sole of his shoeÂ
âNo wealth no health, me by myselfâ Â She murmurs aloud
As she packs his things inside the overgrown house
The bank came to collect
Seeking out missed checksÂ
The tears she wept poured over her debt Â
His things she sold in a last desperate attemptÂ
The ruthless suitsÂ
They made their call
They took the house
They want it all!
Forced from home
Lonely, alone,
She found her footingÂ
On the bitumen roads
The city stank
corrosive as hell
worse than a million cowsÂ
wearinâ a million bellsÂ
Beholden to a doorway,Â
Dark dank and cold
She dreamt of fields in winter
Buried deep in snowÂ
Horses blanketed,Â
Warm molasses at their noseÂ
Frozen overnight,Â
She sits with her husband now
Back at homeÂ
There once was a merpig who lived in the sea
She had three kin, indeed there were three
One Lila, one Lin, one Lily you see
Magnificent, was she.Â
Trawlers and tugs, boats above Â
Trenches beneath, unseen beasts
Salt to take in, the air to breathe
Part Dog part mermaid.... could it really be?
Legend like Loch, eternal as ether
You wonât believe it when you see her
Twice a year, perhaps maybe more
One time only, she came ashore
Astounded, bemused, the people cooed
But soon, a loud roar ensued
A chanting force, overjoyed at the fact
that maybe one day, sheâll be back
But tonight she rests, along with her children
And tomorrow the Legend continues again.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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WHEN DOES MY LIFE GET BETTER I CANTLVE LIKE THISMUCH LONGER WE ARE QUICKLY APPROACHINGA FORK IN THE ROAD
If only words could encompass the magnitude of pain, that I carry with me, the holds of injustice, the swelling and leavening I endure, my world falls against me, in anger. When the pain is so sharp and sudden, 100 feet high, a deafening enormity, vomiting is indecision, your body crumples, you cry for some reason, but all effort is lost to the whims of your pain, you have no control of what you do, only self-preservation is what you seek, the roads to travel on, to get to that place, are saturated in an impermeable acid fog, mist, corrosive and choking. You curse the gods you refuse to believe in, and you sit in silence, the cold around you becomes worse, the darkness ahead of you is impatient and loud. The cycle of pain, proves itself, reaffirms itself, holds steady. Nothing relives this pain, nothing at all, nothing you can do will save you from it. Nothing you can do will do anything for you. You canât do anything at all. Suffering is entropy, suffering is the ground zero, the gravitational pull, the mass of the universe. Iâm a selfish person, a bastard. To want what I want, I want to survive. Survival and happiness are so apart from one another, but I speak of them as though they are the same, I want them to be desperately, and as I drink myself to dilution, i numb away some of the present, what will be of my future, as I stroke gently the bars of my cell, if only they were skin, of a lover, if only they were the legs of the one I care about. If only, if only, but they arenât, have never been. Iâve done nothing wrong, but Iâll suffer all of the consequences. Iâll rot, into eternity, a corpse, a semblance of what was, of the curiosity, the capacity, the colorful soul I once was. How close I was, how much effort, how much sincerity, how much legitimacy I put forth, is washed away in AN INSTANCE, left with nothing, drowning.Â