rrrradico
pull up to the club smellin like gym socks and mashed potatoes
  • "On the riverwalk in my hometown
    There are a bunch of bridges that you can walk under
    And a few years back I decided
    That the concrete slab holding up
    This one particular bridge would be the bridge that I would write a poem on,
    Line by line.
    So over the years,
    Every time I would go by this bridge I’d add a line to the poem
    And then date that line.
    Today, after spending an entire afternoon
    Reading Bukowksi and Rumi
    While listening to Tigers Jaw and Bon Iver,
    I visited that bridge to see years worth of work painted over.
    I wasn’t as sad as I thought I would be.
    Not everything is permanent,
    Not everything is constant.
    I have been living
    Out of a suitcase for the past two months
    From the comfort of my own bedroom. I could easily use the closet
    But I only spend a quarter of the year in the house I grew up in.
    I wonder if all houseflies are homeless.
    Often, I feel like a stranger in my sheets. They don’t smell like me.
    The suburban streets I used to wander as a kid seemed so unfamiliar,
    Like I was a traveler discovering all the nooks and crannies of my cul-de-sac.
    Just as I crossed by my neighbor’s crooked mailbox
    I noticed a deer up ahead.
    We locked eyes
    For a moment.
    I took a step towards it and it bounded off in the direction of the forest.
    I realized that I wasn’t all that different from that deer,
    So tomorrow
    I will go back to that bridge and
    I will start a new poem."

    "My Life Is Changing But My Mile Time Isn’t Fast Enough To Keep Up With It" - Nishat Ahmed

    Sometimes I fall into these random existential crises

    (via sickwithsyllables)
    • 109
  • "I want to see you.
    Know your voice.
    Recognize you when you
    first come ‘round the corner.
    Sense your scent when I come
    into a room you’ve just left.
    Know the lift of your heel,
    the glide of your foot.
    Become familiar with the way
    you purse your lips
    then let them part,
    just the slightest bit,
    when I lean in to your space
    and kiss you.
    I want to know the joy
    of how you whisper
    “more”"
    Rumi (via feellng)
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  • jovannamachine:

    Marc Almond

    (via mudwerks)

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  • (via shouldnt)

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  • "When I look back, I am so impressed again with the life-giving power of literature. If I were a young person today, trying to gain a sense of myself in the world, I would do that again by reading, just as I did when I was young."
    Maya Angelou (via observando)
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