serendipitousdaze - Tumblr blog

[serendipitousdaze]

ebbing with the flow.

i feel the semblance of reality around me

it had once known me but not exclusively

seldom had i thought a painted picture true

an idea of something real but nothing tangible

a photograph that i may trace the edges of

but i never live to see myself within

a feeling of two shadow people dancing within myself

a kind of people who exist without restriction

a world without color

a paint brush with no purpose

once i saw a painted picture true

and it was a mosaic of me and you.

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Crooked Channel, Folded Temple

Two paintings for the Globe & Mail - David Gratzer, an attending physician at CAMH writes about what led us to a crisis of mental illness and potential paths towards meaningful change.

Big thanks to AD Ming Wong 🙏 These two originals are available in my shop.

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faith

and I weep at it's sheer beauty in the presence of horror shone through the light of love and the sole being of humanity there once would lay our souls that we expose to one another in a timeless inkling when we were nothing but our parts.

e.b.

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we could always rebuild

the little cities we destroyed

or the walls we tore apart;

and no i was never thrilled

to now look for reasons to avoid

the streets we once walked in

the home we once lived in

now diminished to remnants 

novelty has long since past

and in my dreams we were made to last

if only we had known what you would’ve done

as quick as it were i miss the blocks

id walk them in between you and me

hoping if at all you’d even see

when you left you took my home

and i could no longer breathe

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hushed compliments muddled by tar stained lungs a hundred thousand cigarettes couldn’t stain your lips that part in quickness like lightning across a dark sky. we lay under a harvest moon parked in a field  across the way from that old football stadium  all that lit the sky was that big rock way up high  and the end of your cigarette as bright as the orange in the moon. something in the way the embers fell to ash before your feet brought a vision of a fiery flaming end to you and me. so before we burn to rubble and ash, extend your hand and let me inhale the love you breathe.

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Alphonse Mucha: Cover illustration for Cocorico magazine, 1899. Cocorico, was the french response to Jugend, the seminal german humor, arts and poetry magazine that featured the foremost german and austrian art noveau practitioners. 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cocorico_(magazine)

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Paul Ranson

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your grip, tightly strung as a piece of nylon rope; your audacity, in a moment of weakness; our venture to nowhere, we could've went  anywhere...

e.b.

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catalyst

 in one ear and out the other we didn’t listen to each other we placed our hearts at a distance now you’re just left reminiscing us

but you never edged any closer now im stuck wishing there was closure and you don’t make apologies despite how fucking cruel you can be

i still wonder was it worth being alone then again at least you’ve got your phone

to call her up if your bed’s getting too cold she’s a placeholder for the one you cannot hold

go sink into the abyss that was your bed who knew the catalyst would be demons in your head guess i should’ve left you sooner instead of trusting someone with a heart that’s already dead

-serendipitousdaze

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my gospel, my hymn, my friend.

oh to wade in your water the kind you’d only worship if it were the son of a carpenter i worship no sort of king but admire the people who do

for what a wonderful thing to have faith in this suggestion you’ll never be able to sense

i hadn't sensed you much the same yet i feel you close when it rains like when a person brushes their lovers hand.. to remind them they’re there

your image sprinkles here and there little tiny drops of you everywhere when you’re far away i keep you close in the little things i treasure the most i will keep my composure, sure and hold on a little longer for something truly worthy of worship like gospel in sunday service you’re my breath of fresh air, the relief consumes me only just having you there. my gospel, my hymn, and my friend.

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How mysterious. I’ve never felt such peace.

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thinking about that quote that’s like “it’s better to know one book intimately than a hundred superficially” and how a lot of readers and social media try and pressure others to read a million books super fast and complete absurd book challenges when everyone has different lifestyles and different amounts of time to read. forcing others to go through books like cigarettes stops a lot of readers from really enjoying what they’re reading. what’s the point then? if you can’t properly analyze and enjoy what you’re reading? appreciating books takes time and that’s okay

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Friedrich Nietzsche, from The Joyful Science

Text ID: You are a god and never have I heard anything more divine.

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the most beautiful words in the english language

ineffable — indescribable, unspeakable

eudaemonia — the state of consummate happiness

sumptuous — extremely costly, luxurious, magnificent

nadir — the lowest point (of something abstract)

lassitude —tiredness, lack of energy

scintilla — a spark or a trace of something

aurora — the dawn

quintessential — perfectly typical or representative of a particular kind of person or thing

renaissance — revival

bodacious — remarkable, admirable

ebullience — the quality of excitement and enthusiasm

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MY GAWD?!??,?

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rejection leads to redirection. there will always be a better opportunity. be patient with life. so glad i was patient. new opportunities are coming.

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it was as if when we'd lock eyes we'd agreed to see each other a different way. i found familiarity in the body of someone who keeps their silence. where as i speak my mind, you humbly listen.  i still don't know you all that well, but i wouldn't mind figuring that out.  only when it's you.

listen to from eden ~ hozier