I am the sand dune
the wind is ever rolling over.
Self portrait in oil pastels
Show me where to go.
Don’t lead me by the hand.
Don’t follow.
Night and day, blurred.
Eyes droop, and bleed.
Ears ring. Silence.
My toes yearn for the earth beneath them, writhing.
My bones creak, swaying in my skin.
Breath. Rushing over dry tongue, down dry throat.
Rise, and fall.
In or out.
Vacant body, wasting in ruin.
Wrought.
celebrating 4:20 A.M. writing a short story in a night. Yea I got this.
Growth
The son grows spiteful of the father and, in solitude, grows cold.
The son grows longing for a mother and, in waiting, he grows old.
The man grows lonesome on his own. He feels, for nothing, he has grown.
The man seeks family of his own and, in the wife, a seed in sown.
The wife grows tired and leaves the son.
The man, unraveled, comes undone.
The son grows spiteful of the father and, in solitude, grows cold.
The son grows longing for a mother and, in waiting, he grows old.
Gave Ozzy a bath yesterday, he hated it but he’s a clean kitty now!
I adopted this stray kitten today, I named him oswald
I used to steal books from school because I thought it’d be cool to read them but I never did
(Source: elisewinstardust, via cremedelachronic)
i got 99 problems and society’s attitudes towards marijuana is like 98 of them
(Source: desebuds, via beyondhighh)
Full of desire but void of direction
The Submarines - 1940
Nothing like a bit of irony to start off the day. And yes, my favorite Pandora station is called Never Nude… 
