Main Street
As she walked up Main street, an itch crept up from the pavement and into her legs, forcefully propelling her in the direction of her current apartment. Her mind navigated her every move like a narrator from a novel; the character, melancholy, bored, unnatural. Smoke circled around the hopefuls, hissing and cracking like firewood, as they sucked life from the glow of their cigarettes outside of the local Bingo Hall. She stepped in what was attempted grace around the mob of twenty or so lingering on the sidewalk, covered in gum wads and the scent of stale urine, ultimately veiled by the smoke, which couldn’t be avoided. The local hub that stood next to the Bingo forlorn was a greasy disarray of hipsters lounging about, laughing, and enjoying eachothers’ wonderful company. Her head couldn’t help but turn in to check out the on goings, and to try and catch a glance at the menu, which included items such as pickles and cheese, cheap beer, and pork sandwiches. The itch trickled in and she jolted her eyes straight in front of her, and onward she marched up, passing by the thrift store, the window that displayed Biblical statues exclusively, and a shop dedicated to manufacturing custom restaurant booths.
The next block housed chains such as a DairyQueen, a 711, and a Subway. Of course there were two Starbucks placed on either end for good measure. She wondered if the street itself had undergone an ill fated transformation over the last 8 months, or if she was just finally waking up to her reality. She hadn’t noticed how many homeless there were before, and the bar noise that had once been amusing had become overbearing and abrupt. The youth, which included anyone embarking on their twenties to those just barely hanging onto them, were splattered outside the local bars, like careless paint drops spraying off the edge of a canvas. And many of them were indeed like works of art, with just enough thought behind the work to avoid too much questioning. Flashy, and unsophisticated, with outbursts of noise or colour, conversation squawked and poured outwards into the streets. As she fleeted home, scurrying her feet, tears swelled from behind her eyes. She couldn’t tell at this point if it were simply irritation from the obnoxious signs and lights, or if there was some genuine emotion attempting to push its way out from behind her eyeballs. The itch from the street clambered up and under her skin, and as she opened the door to her apartment, stale and uninviting, the tears released in victory, as if they had finally found freedom.
You can do this and it will get better.
You can only say goodbye so many times… and then one day you’ll realize you have nothing left, and that the goodbyes were just a precursor to a number of hellos that lead you to believe in dreams that wouldn’t come true, and a life that couldn’t be molded into existence. That all of your hellos fed into your false perception of who you thought you should be, someone you once were.
The push and the pull, the goodbyes and the hellos have warn you down, and after the previous goodbye, you tried so hard to hurt him, so hard to kill it, so that it would never, ever come back knocking. But it did, and it always would. So, this time, there is no goodbye, but simply a flowing movement picking you up and washing you forward, away from it all, from the talk, and the ill fated dreams, and temptations.
You had that kind of crazy love.
Keep going, it will get better. And just let it all go.
William Shakespeare (via ul-jima)
I say No
To materialism and superficiality.
To accumulation and garbage.
To illfated remarks, reckless insanity
To the drink or the drug,
With full conviction.
——————————
To the purposeless:
As all is on purpose
with ”purpose” we proceed
to win wars and defeat
A game left to fate
Yet a bargain, no gain
Lost in a mission,
In parish, insane
In the retrograde
I hope to retro behave
on a wave, crushing soldiers
Blushing, and fighting forward
running miles, and dreams
rampant, no fore word
A bliss, continued,
a memory
please believe me
Envelop me
Don’t decieve me
Tell me truth, tell me truth
Let me bleed, bleed,
no need, let it pour
and wash through the streets,
my dreams, where art though now
—
Where am I, lost,
crushed, no way, no how
I’m selling out
On religion,
buy me faith
buy me taste
And use me, abuse me,
Here I am, for the take
—
So let’s say no. Erase.
Go back and retrace
Our steps, our stomps
Our mind’s eye’s disgrace
—
For what are we now
Black sheep in a race
Look me in the eye
Give me truth
Give me grace.
Solar Eclipses, and a new moon… Get ready to get uncomfortable, see vividly, climb into the depths of your soul, and pull out gold.
