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Dots after dots #dotwork #dotworkart #somelines #circles #art #artwork #artist #artistsoninstagram #artbasel #arte #miart #artbyrikki #miartbyrikki #sketchbook #dailysketch #paperart https://www.instagram.com/p/BzpyYaRDgQd/?igshid=1qp3v4dwoedvy
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#Okuda #somelines 👽💎💀 https://www.instagram.com/p/BonHc_PHmsC/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=sxoq8sz0mfni
killjoy
“Beyond the edge of the world there’s a space where emptiness and substance neatly overlap, where past and future form a continuous, endless loop. And, hovering about, there are signs no one has ever read, chords no one has ever heard.”
— Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
as the dust floated in the morning light like time has no meaning all i could see was the blurred window and no outside behind no trace of my lion face boy i spent the whole time with and as the sun grew lighter my mind went darker and second for second the walls turned black and bleak the grass is cut like my marrow - inanimate and dull the brush guided me home i haven't been painting for ages and as the firebird died and didn't rise again the lion in his name stopped roaring he accepted the bars and the dust kept floating and i kept dying i called off the search for the lion face boy
addressed to three, read by none
I never thought I'd fall for the highschool dreamboy with a perfect body and strawberry blonde hair with lips made by God's own hand and a smile that cuts right through my guts With pale skin, where's no tattoo to show and so much to discover at once I never thought I'd fall for the popular child while I was sitting in the front row on the bus maybe I settle for the wrong, for the annoying perfect maybe I'm perfectly right for the deadly raddled Or maybe you're untouched and a ray of light in a rainy night calling me home; so I will answer.
But then I have to turn around to tell you that I didn't ask for your lovesong nor will I turn the other cheek when everything around you died, I left and ripped you off of my lungs to breathe easier, to leave, to breathe, to leave And I didn't ask for you to come back when you decided to come in the darkest of my hours I couldn't welcome you back I'm off to move on to pastures new leaving your blackness where it belongs far away from me
So see me rise out of your blankets that were a home for me for a while and all your perfect teeth and pretty hair is not enough to stage protests for a hopeless cause I put myself in idle hands and let you go you've been gone the moment we kissed gone to far darker places than that street back then and too far for me to reach I don't care for your fate anymore maybe you die, maybe you don't I will be the last one to call
All I can think of is the strawberry field I wish to lay down in You are my seven wonders, all in one.
I saw galaxies in your eyes, there's a universe hidden in your hands and there's a potion dropping from your lips an easy glow to bewitch my mind to calm my nerves, to slow my heart down until it stops beating and a big, ice cold silence declines all existence stopped existing
And as a new kind of rise I will rip apart my bones I will break my chest and inhale the new world the cruel world the key to disaster
We all feel lost sometimes and not a single comfort to find in a world so huge
But what's a world to a galaxy?
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How to turn 179 into 15 465 600 and other stuff
It's been 178 nights now I have wasted my thoughts on you. Actually it's 179 nights. Approximately 4296 hours of useless shit. 257 760 minutes of nothing. 15 465 600 seconds of nonsense. If one's making a rough estimate of heartbeats per minute I wasted 16754400 of them on you. A large amount of numbers I probably couldn't even voice in the correct way. I would dash against them so why the hell should I make it with you? There's no logical reason I could get it about right. And so I kept silent and let you pass, just wearing my gruff smile, eyes on the ground. And all of them rare contingencies and shy looks were those anchors I hold on for dear life and all of them were so rare that I'm not quite sure if they have happened. Maybe I just keep on telling myself into the shit I'm sticking in right now and and I know about my problem that I can't cope with alcohol. For one night of relief and easiness I pay with three days of hell. Three days of soreness, there's no pain in my mind neither there is hope. I know about my problem that I'm crashed for a few days staring at the only free spot on my wall, and I feel like there's nothing underneath it and that existing is the one thing all is about. The hardest part is to accept that all the guilt lies all by myself, right here in my idle hands. Right here in this crazed mind full of fucked up ideas of a good life that were just hillarious - were so fucking hillarious that I couldn't even express them. It's been 179 nights of managing my own shortcoming - and this is, for real, the hardest part. To get along with shit you've messed up all alone and nobody else.
Damn.
a fountain dries out
I'm not the kind of woman that wears her heart on her tongue, and sometimes my mouth feels all dusty because my lips haven't touched for ages. I remained silent and let time pass by. My eyes shut down and so does my mouth and everything turns into a graveyard for the doomend and the lost. And this is home, the darkness comforts me like a blanket made of smoke and I crumble away in salvation redemption purgatory.
And while I keep driving nails in my coffin I reveal my truth
I'm a solanum - shed, shred, shaked - disappearing in gloom.
sea.
It's been a year now since we both are done with each other and since then the world have changed. Not because of you or me, just because that's what the world does. And the agony of choice remains: you can go with or stand still. And my solution was capitulation, I decided to wait and see and became a ghost; a shade of grey. Well, what can I say.. nothing good came up, life went dark, my mind followed - and all I remember is our shared devotion for the sea. Maybe it was the unsteady, the wandering attention. The untamed waves, the permanent hunger, the escape. We were constantly escaping from each other. Not even the simple wish to be together could restrain our feet. I've been rolling nights over this and the question why we were so perfectly right together and so deeply obsessed with getting away remained unanswered. Maybe it is what it is: a stormfront coming in. I bet it still hurts and I hope this makes you sad. All of this frustrated me bad, now I just abuse whatever it takes to forget your accomplishments, however few. From time to time I catch myself talking to tombstones, blowing away the dust. And I recall the question who I am now while I'm wandering the streets without any direction. It's been a year now. And many will follow. And like the rough sea I consumed the best of you and left the rest. No thanks to you.
