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Sometimes you start to realize that it’s not really the sex you want. It’s everything that comes before or after. The wanting as you build up to the moment and the sense of contentment and wonder as you lay in bed. You know your body will entice him, but you and everyone knows that’s not what you want. 

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you follow misery around like a loyal little puppy why thinking will he call me or text me this year has gone by with the same old shit patiently waiting but its always a hit and miss

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Always on the verge of tears. You walk down the platform trying to look hard. Didn’t realize the hope draining out of your heart through the months.

Your eyes stay wide, having to prove to nobody and anybody. The first blink will betray you. The first blink will be the death of you.

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Alphaville (1965), Jean-Luc Godard

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Out of focus as always

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A slave to my own mind. It’s the deepest ocean I’ve ever known. And before I was aware of the slowly rising water around me, I find myself flailing my legs already drowning. Even though I want someone to desperately save me, the water is too dense for anyone to hear and too dark for anyone to see. I’ve fallen so incredibly deep, that on view the water is still and calm. The sunset reflects its brilliance back into itself, never reaching below the surface, where it’s really needed. It’s undeniable there is twenty-three years of built up resentment. Before I could comprehend, what started as a spark, has grown into a full fledged flame. Realizing the only way to quell the fire is to get to the core, where it burns the brightest and hottest. I allow the ocean to surround me as I fall into myself. It’s terrifying as it is the loneliest place I’ll ever be. Like hot lava hitting cool water, I sizzle and smoke with a sigh of relief and release. I transform into an element that had to live as different lifeforms to be molded and solidified into something indestructible.

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(ELHAE)

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J.Cole - A Tale of Two Cities | Made in America Philly | 09/06/15 7:44PM

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Dia:Beacon | Beacon, NY | 11/21/15 2:24PM

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In the unsteady process of trying to master my own art of solitude, because it really is different for every person. A lot like that of love, the experience is unique and specific. It actually sounds almost romantic, my own type of solitude, just for me. It may actually be romantic, that the real challenge is in finding the beauty within it. 

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