. Joined 8 years ago.
“she was desperate and she was choosey
at the same time and, in a way, beautiful, but she didn't have quite enough going for her to become what she imagined herself to be.” ~ charles bukowski
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she was waiting, but she didn’t know for what. she was aware only of her solitude, and of the penetrating cold, and of a greater weight in the region of her heart.
were i to meet you again for the first time, but in a different orchard, in a different wood; perhaps for us the trees would sigh differently, extended into infinity under a misty hood.
he has to know how to pet a dog and how to caress me, and to laugh, and live in the depth in a sweet dream without words, and know nothing, as i know nothing, and be silent in delightful darkness, and be distant from good and equally distant from evil.
what if i'm made of stone? feeling is not a system; you are the likely cause of what will be my demise; love is just easing the waiting before dying without company.
don't you think we'll be better off without temptation to regress, to fake tenderness; waiting to see someone we won't know for long, in cities we'll only leave. [TAG ABOUT ME]
i see myself forever and ever as the ridiculous man, the lonely soul, the wanderer, the restless frustrated artist, the man in love with love, always in search of the absolute, always seeking the unattainable.
her eyes are made of charming minerals well-burnished; her nature, both by sphynx and angel furnished, is old, intact, symbolic, and bizarre.
by your side i’m most quiet and most unquiet, most inhibited and most free.
and i looked and looked at her and knew clearly as i know i am to die, that i loved her more than anything had ever seen or imagined on earth, or hoped for anywhere else.
no one's serious at seventeen; on beautiful nights when beer and lemonade and loud, blinding cafés are the last thing you need, you stroll beneath green lindens on the promenade.
i am not yet twenty-one. i am to be broken. i am to be derided all my life. (...) i am the foam that sweeps and fills the uttermost rims of the rocks with whiteness; i am also a girl, here in this room.
and we were running then, horse and wolf and girl, braces on her teeth like a bridle; i felt tight against supple, cool against hot, wires and skin; i've always been like this.
please don't flow so fast, you little mountain noise; i'll close my eyes and bite your tongue.
wondering what you're doing, what you're listening to, which quarter of the moon you're viewing from your bedroom; watching all the movies, drinking all the smoothies, swimming at the pool, i'm thinking of you too.
if i were a swan, i'd be gone; if i were a train, i'd be late; and if i were a good man, i'd talk with you more often than i do.
well, its too late tonight to drag the past out into the light; we're one but we're not the same, we get to carry each other.
last night i saw you standing there, i hadn't seen you in a while; and it felt to my eyes that you have somewhere, somehow lost your smile.
i got in a fight, i was indisposed, i was in despite all the wicked prose; but i'm only a man and i do what i can.
tell me, why is the pain of birth lighter borne than the pain of death? i ain't saying that i loved you first, but i loved you best.
do you know the proper way to ask for a cigarette? i'm asking before winter comes; stay here with me til morning, with the three-man orchestra playing.
you’re on your own in a world you’ve grown; few more years to go, don’t let the hurdle fall; so be the girl you loved.
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