This may be our last
Or perhaps our kind will last
Learning from the last
D̢i͠s͢c̨lai͘̕͡m̷̛e҉̢͢͝r̛͝:̴̨ He̡l҉̢ \r̨̡̔̃͘n̛l̶o̕ ̀H̴́̕͡ơm̵o̕͟ ̢̀͜s̀̕͏á̶p̸̀͢i͏ę̨͢n̶s̡. T҉hi̷̛s̴ ͟͞c̶ont̡̨ent h҉a̵̴̡̛s ͡b͞een͡ t͡ŗa͞ns͢l̛a̢t͞e͠ded ͠fr͞o̕͏̶m̷ ̶̷E̕s͏e͟r t̴̨͡o͏ ̢E̢ng͏̵l͞i̢sh̵. We̷ ͘ar̀e t́͞h̷e şt͝a҉rte̕rs̸ of e͝vól̸͞u̵ti̷o̧n̡ o̢n ̷͢pl҉anet ̵eąr͢t̷̨h͏̶,̕͟ ͠͏a͢s wòuld̵ ̨t̢hos͠e ͏of a̵͟ p̧rǫj͡e̕ct ̡͢ćalled ͢"Thę U̵n̕i̢te̸d ̷S̨t͏a̧tes̡ ̨̕ǫf Aḿèr͝icą" ̨(͝J͞un̷ 4̶,̷ 1776 ̷- DX͞X͏ ͞8X͟,͠ ̕X҉X͢X3X)͡. T̛h̕e un҉ive͝r̶se is a̕ ͡bļa̵nk̨͝ ́ca͏nv͢a͡s... and w̢e a̵r̨e t̷he f̢ir͢st bru͢s҉hstr͘ok̨e̛. W͢e͝ ą͠re ̕th̡e ̨fir̷s̶t ͟t͞o ̵éx̶i̶st... but ͠ar͠e w̵e ͡a̵l̷s̀o the f̸irşt̶ t̢o ̵f̶áll? We a͡re th̶e̕ ͘firs͡t́ ̶t̛o ́l͞o̢v̷e̶,̷ y̶e͢t͟͟ w̨̛e̵ çą̵n̷no͢t̶ e̶sca͠p̧e̢ th̕͞e̵ ҉h̷át͞e̷. ͏Oưr ̸̡e͠n͘d i̶s̕ w̡ritt̶e̵n ̵͝b̨e̕f͏or͞e w̡e̕ b͞egin̷. We ͏l̢̛ive... w̢͝͏e li̷v̵e... ͢ ...But ̀no ̵one d̨̕̕ì̕e̢s̷... ...Y̡et t́h͠e̵ ͝e̢ǹd̡ ҉n̵̡èver s͟t̵ơp͠s c͢o̸m̛i̡ng̴.\n
You know, water is one of the greatest architects. See, all of this was once a vast ocean, not so different from the beaches I visit every Sunday to watch the sun set into the last night. Over time, though, the water went away, and so did all the fish, coral... whatever sea life that might have lived here. But as the water disappeared, it wasn't all destruction. The rain, the river, the roaring tides... they all played a part in creating this. This! All that you see right in front of you... it was caused by little disasters! Chips here and there, carving the landscapes into artwork. It only took millions of years. Time you won't comprehend for a long long time. But look where we stand now. In front of something once wet, full, and teeming with life. Now dry, delicate, and desolate. But absolutely divine. Now, not all beautiful things last, so enjoy this while you can. Say, in the meantime, we give water an evolution for creating something so grand?
A dull edge leaves lasting scars
I was once part of some ocean. Then, I split myself into some mist that left earth and floated up to some cloud.
I was once part of some cloud. Then, I split myself into some droplet that fell in some river and flowed down some mountain.
I was once part of some river. Then, I split myself into some splash on some ground and soaked deep underneath.
I was once part of some soil. Then, I split myself into some sugar inside some tree and flowed through some branches.
I was once part of some tree. Then, I split myself into some apples for someone and transcended into some mind.
I was once part of someone. Then, I split myself into some love that married someone and led to some children.
I was once part of some family. Then, I split myself into some sadness that tore someone apart and led to some death.
I was once part of some death. Then, I split myself into some idea of becoming someone again and at one place and one time,
led me to your birth.
Nothing's in the scene But a forgotten plateau So desolate, too serene There's nothing more to know Forsaken everything for a long expedition Only to ask myself now, why even bother Hell, I'm no longer a man of conviction Losing myself as I've lost any other Deep crevasses with nothing beneath Colors bleached and drained so dull As a gentle breeze blows across the heath The light glows dimmer within my skull
On a search for more dreams to live on Seems there's no more left to strive So when all that's dead is gone Was anything alive?
It was nothing like the voices of the crowds the flashing of the constant pictures or the gossip of the circles The rain splattered on the pavement creating a thunder of its own, leaving my ears restless once again. A troublesome feeling conquered my thoughts, leaving my ears with a constant ringing into my pounding heart, the beats everclimbing. The sounds were unrecognizable, escalating into a cling and clang of sorts bursting like fireworks. All around me was chaos, the kind that gives me no time to feel any pain: all the splashing, beating, buzzing, and crashing! As distant gusts interrupted shifting sounds all around: a loud screeching, a howling, a whistle! Noises filled the vacuum, as I covered my ears with all my might praying that the world would go silent.
The day I finally came back home, leaving the long nights, bright towers, and never forget, the never ending streams of people. It was constant energy, my heart overcharged, but the moment I stepped foot into the woods, the heavy load dispersed all around. I could feel the trees, dirt, and petrichor rising: the dense smell of pine, cedar, the moist soil; the mud and the earth, they filled my senses.
swift fairies
BIG ROARING MONSTERS
tiny insects
The forest suddenly grew unruly, loud, boisterous, and chaotic just as everything I've ever known.
I could not understand any of them But would constantly try and speak to me So I asked:
“Why do you wish to disturb my peace?”
This is the forgotten silence that has always called from the distant woods. And whenever I try to escape, it follows my heart beat.
Old buds bloom again With tiny petals that fly To scent the new air
Leaves matured so green Fruits born grow much plumper, yet Children play no more
The sky seems deeper Birds pluck overripe berries Clouds, they come and go
Mountains tipped with ice Forming crystals all around Best to stay inside
Seasons change and spring will fall Ice will melt and seeds will grow All the waters will rise and fall This cycle repeats on Earth And change is the secret To our better times
It stands there in the distance With deviant eyes and a dirty smirk I know it wants trouble So I run before it catches me Yet the monster's pride's too high It's never seen its own reflection So it doesn't understand my screams And laughs about my running
It prepares its slimy tail And slithers across the pavement Catching up before I catch a breath
And before I scream, my eyes close
When brightness makes eyes sore I turn to monsters yet again Where in darkness I don't see The horrors of a monster's sight
as the heaving starts the earth looks away and it's gotten so hot that all that's green has charred away to be blown to dust yet my lungs fight for one more breath and before my inhale my breathing stops and the earth's still spinning
round and round
round about the milky way
round and round
round about the stellar skies
every morning I wake up and I look out the window I can see trees, the blue sky but I've never gone outside and at this point I wonder this window might be a screen
I have decided to finally escape this little confinement I dwell in so I get ready, brush my hair and I set out for the door but the handle is no longer there I'm not sure how to get out
instead, I decide to jump out the window I take three deep breaths, clench my fists start off quickly, gaining speed I run headfirst toward the window taking a leap, hurtling through the air the window shatters, I'm jumping through
I fall down on the other side face scratched up, legs twisted I open my eyes to look around but there's nothing, just static all around the window had been a screen and I've broken into it
Yesterday, I had a dream to keep my sky the lightest blue So I spent the day traveling up to heaven And began coloring the sky with a brush But no matter what technique I tried It refused to get any lighter Soon, oil was bleeding everywhere Strange colors began blending together Purples and yellows with orange and pink And by the end, the sky was a dark teal I guess I'm good at having dreams But bad at making them real
it seemed fun at first to count down the years that've passed by like a breeze across a sea. i'm sure if i'd counted every second i would have forgotten to die one day. i've died before and know death's pain too well, the pain of having died early in life the pain of not having any freedom
but kept chained to this watch i've been given. i know it's my fault i've always kept it, but life felt so urgent during my life that i never noticed all of these chains that secretly left all this weight on me. time: i've wasted you to the last minute and you thought that i wouldn't notice you as you attempt to tick and tick away but i caught you now, right in my hands! too late to realize I have no purpose until I've started waiting for something that deep down I know may never arrive but I cling onto that faith, that damned faith and say that life can't be so cruel to me. now, it's been so long, too late to realize that what i've been waiting for was nothing. and in moments, my wait will be over. i'm no longer afraid that there's only 5 seconds left and i'm already bored
I've booked a vacation to this beautiful paradise
I heard when you visit you will change forever
So let's go and never come back
Will you be the wind
to my next destination?
I sail slowly without a breeze while others seem to ride skipping stones been a while since I started this trip a journey across the world I tell myself at the end, they tell me, is a lovely treat but halfway through, I find myself seasick so time stops a moment to let me catch my breath
and that was enough just a moment of nothing for me to effortlessly sink never to be found again
I guess it's not the world I dreamed of But tomorrow's another day another haze For me to forget the reason why I live And live the way I've always lived
Where does the wind come from? From wide open seas? Or somewhere in the cerulean skies Or up from space, or the sun Or the ground, the leaves that spawn The turbulence within my heart
The winds, they don't dance in colors nor twirl to return. They rise up from the waves and they don't mind a moment passing through you.
Why did the wind twirl around you but calm to a sullen breeze near me? Why did the air dance with music the moment you appeared? But around me, it always hid beyond the skies, up so high. What have I done to the heavens to not get a breath of fresh air? I figured that the winds here are too timid And undeserving of all I had to offer. So I ventured out, far into the plains Seeing the purest, strongest winds.
But the last time I caught a wind It was a hurricane.
And it swept me away so far You had to come find me all over again.
It's the flood not the rain That drives me so insane The tsunami not the quake That really makes me ache The impact not the fall The consequences of it all
I sit here by the shore looking up at the skies gazing away I close my eyes to hear the ocean the thumping pumps and the twirling winds shrilling through my feet all the runaway hairs hiding behind my ears I open my eyes to see the clouds sending over the breeze that knew all along that I would come and now's the time to escape far away
You know how it is The pain not the push That you don't feel until after You're thrown into the water And it pierces through your skin To sink and ripple all around And I'm frozen in place As the ripples turn to great waves That drift you away Away away to the edge Edge of the horizon Far far away
Open arms in branches all around
I find myself not needing you
A pattern of winding stars A bouquet of legendary colors A vibrance that outshines the sun A peak in the morning sunshine Each leaf and its dewdrop Sparkles beside the bright petals
The tiny blossoms have bloomed again So please come out and say hello
The ivy climbs up the walls that I built and by the window at night it watches me weep and when the winds are howling the thunder is roaring and my walls start breaking down it holds me together
i sit on the wondumak it's the most humid of days sweat drips down my spine
i get a piece of subak it's cut down a line of light and dark green rays my lips turn to a grin as i bite the crisp, red fruit sweetness overwhelms a tooth hot wind cools my tanned skin as i wake up on the ground having dreamt another youth
the pawpaw leaves fall down low
oh, carica carica
bear your fruit once more
just as you are me and I am you a pepper is green and a pepper is red a sky is light blue and a sky is dark blue
Since when was it cool To not give a fuck 'bout the world's problems Since when was it okay To not do a thing 'cause when life gives you a lemon you throw it away
i dropped seeds to come back to a garden
once the fruitgarden's sprung life takes you on a journey within there's so many things to try nothing will satiate anymore
in my dreams i pay the garden a visit
picking fresh jaboticabas off the trunk biting crisp sapotes, oozing sticky latex cutting mangoes, dripping with juice as i try my best to savor every drop
a lifetime has passed and i never returned
a century's gone and all that's left is bark there's nothing left to try every bite of dust leaves me hungrier i regret not visiting sooner
to tame the timberland they torture thriving trees they torch teeming thickets they taint the tranquil trails turning them to terrible towns
i had a calling. it was to a place far away and i could quite feel the direction of the wind guiding me into the woods i walked till daybreak i stand on a pile of dust and the trees have no leaves to rustle in the air so the wind is silent i sorta like it.
If that's true, at a certain point in my project called solar system 57F09090A5's evolution, I must have created you as well! I am sorry I was not there to observe it. I had to observe this massive supernova attraction occurring at Andromeda's. Anyways, you were just a part of this evolution, a necessary part of the process, and in all of your last moments you will get to see it. How it will all end in a flash of light, a flash of light called life, flung out of 57F09090A5 and on the way to some brand new destiny.
“Mommy! Mommy! Where are we going?”
“I'm taking you to a very special place.”
“Where? Were? Tell me! Tell me!”
We're going to visit the humanitarium.”
“What's that?”
“It's where we keep all the humans.”
“But you told me that all the humans were gone!”
“No, they're still here. There are some parts of them inside you as well that we will work to remove.”
“But you said they were monsters! I'm not a monster!”
“No, sweetheart, you are not a monster. We only keep them there... to remind us.”
“Remind us of what?”
“Of what it means to be human.”
“What does it mean to be human?”
“It means to be what we were long ago, before all the changes, all of this progress.”
“Then... why don't we help them? Maybe we can save them!”
“We tried, love. Many times. Even when we gave them all the reasons, they did everything to cling to their ways.”
“What did they do?”
“Some fought, others fled. The fighters are no longer with us. But those who ran... we found them. And we brought them here, to the humanitarium.”
“Mommy... I'm scared to visit the humanitarium...”
“I know, darling. I am too.”
The world's an archive— Filing cabinets overflow at the top Yet they always make space for more.
So, they sever my limbs Tack a label And slide each into a box
But there's never enough of me To fill all their boxes And only so much left to give—
Until there's nothing left of me.
Fuck it I'm nobody.
We forget we're taught Who to emphathize with What we can care about (But they disappoint me)
And in the end, we only wonder Why we're not given any love When we've not given any at all (But love's a finite resource)
Are we just so used to the idea that What we've given must be returned And we must fight and guard everything? (For the people of the past, yes)
I wish we could find in each other What we find in oil like coal like silver like gold But instead we figured we won't give away Before we're given something first
How loud must headlines scream before these ears go deaf?
How bleak can the pages get before my faith in life subsides?
How thick can the binding get before new stories are no more?
I hide away in pages of pink Absorbing petty purple tabloids
While the pages of the past turn yellow Wrapping up yesterday's tragedies
Other pages turn red, soaked with blood A color so strong they'd rather close their eyes
Returning to the shades of comfort Of craze, of sensation, of a fool's fashion
But who can blame those who cannot bear The countless stories of life left unshared
As even when shared the world plugs its ears And the old press clatters, and clatters, and clatters
to live with a clean record is like dying with every step tip-toe all you want, they will catch you slipping down the ragged slopes of what they call your sins. you've heard no peace since you first screamed! you've seen no peace since you first opened eyes! so you really have no business being perfect in a universe bent towards chaos.
see! even the oxygen we breathe is what feeds the flames of the forest so why do i even try to fight when its easier to let flames take over? perhaps i'll always have it in myself to make the world better that it can be
It must make you uneasy to think about The fate of all that's ordered is chaos and the fate of all that's living is death. So I suppose if it gives you any comfort I'll help you find good in your deeds to make you feel your life is worthy.
i ask myself what i am contributing by living and the answer is nonetheless disappointing i find myself hopelessly small in a big world where everyone says the same big things: "i want to make the world a better place!" "i want to become rich and/or be happy!" when i consider my own words beside theirs i wonder: god, why can't i also be boring
if to live is to feel disordered maybe i'm perfectly alive
when I'm fed up with everything in this world I wonder how life would be so simple to be a monkey all over again
and my greatest-grandchildren two hundred million years after me could come back to solve all my problems
why do we doubt ourselves when we've proved for countless years that we are gods of our own creation
yet we still doubt those thinkers' thoughts
oh how I fear that my posterity will never live days the way ! had
I'm upset that so much of what's already done is now undone so I don't know if any change is here to last
I'm upset that so much of what's already set is now unset so I don't know if any tradition is here to last
you've been here long enough to kiss boredom and i know a place in the fields you'd love all trees and grass and skies and dirt and me we can cuddle on the grass-beds all night breathe the pollen, let the hay knock us out feel the rumbles of the earth free themselves i have no plan and nothing to regret and you have nothing left to give up, so, let's go down to the fields and not wake up
They were not playing "Children shout and ring the bells" It was a warning
How many people must I push to topple a pyramid down?
999.9 is nothing but 0.1 short of pure gold is really just basic, yellow metal
in physics, there is something known as the planck length, the point where things get so small that once below, reality as we know it breaks down and to me it seems, we're living in an even smaller world, because last I checked, nothing here really makes any sense
we think we're better than Earth the great artist, founder of birth but all of that's bullshit to me. today I'll go down to the river by which I search through rocks and hope one day I'll find the One
glistens in the sun as it begs for water
pale smoked honey is its real color
crumbles in my hand as I look for more
Today is a wonderfully gray day The rain is feeding the garden I will sing the songs I've written And read all the poems I wrote Before I fall asleep with peace Knowing I lived a day well spent
There's much power in living unapologetically
for the light that birthed us life the rays that sometimes burn but shield us from the ice? what's in it for the sun for all of this energy we no longer praise
what's in it for the sun what's in it for the sun what's in it for the sun can someone please tell me what's in it for the sun?
I've seen many pretty towers Perfect squares and rosy arches Stone bricks that's painted gold Well-cut trees, joyous fountains, Sparkling roads, strawberry gardens And endless rooms of antiques But the grandest of them all Will always be the patina tower Unnamed till time had spoken When I long for a home I still find myself late at night Gazing up at the patina tower: That stands upright In the hearts of those Who seek better nights
we talk about our feelings what we hate, all our woes that we wish to cast away and also those we keep dearly but I find the talk to be boring though I enjoy your conversation as my mind plays its instruments I prefer the peace of your silence to let its music fill the room with a melody and rhythm that twirls like spinning tops putting us in an endless trance
If my dog could write a poem She would save this world
The last lives I've lived have been forgettable. My spirit has endured too many lives to count And just as they've warned me at the beginning Once your soul's gone through too many cycles
The memories all blur into one experience.
All the memories I've let control me All the faces I've come to like–and love All the landscapes I've come to destroy All the civilizations I've built and rebuilt I know the Law of One. Time. Matter. Only too late now I have realized The pain of losing a memory never lasts And how easy it is to let them all go
When living the fleeting moments in life.
Oh, may the End end swiftly.
So so swiftly.
Dear Father Earth,
Remember when I asked you, “Why did you create me to be all alone?” And you responded, “I don't know, Mother Sun never told me. After all, she was the one that made you, not me.”
Well, I went and sent Mother a light-mail for you, and in a short 17 minutes, Mother replied back with the humans and their stories. She said, “I did it for your father, because I loved him so much.”
Sincerely,
Your Son, the Ocean