wemarchundead-blog

[wemarchundead-blog]

I guess I think a lot about change these days. A sorry sort of cynisism that would drive Steinbeck wild. I think year after year about the onset characteristics of my new self with a begrudge self hatred that can only truly be compared to a child's scowl. I seem a bit less eager to soar with each rough landing in the back of my mind. My eyes are faded, and grey. The hair to match my iris lingers on my receding brow. I still want for a future, but I fail to see it. I guess I've always had a hard time with my vision, as if the coke bottle lenses over my eyes didn't spare the hint. I think a lot about never changing. It's the only luxury life will never afford me.

[wemarchundead-blog]

[wemarchundead-blog]

 My favorite DC hero.

[wemarchundead-blog]

Does anyone play-?

Infinite Crisis, League of Legends, Heroes of the Storm?

[wemarchundead-blog]

It gets better the longer you stare at it.

[wemarchundead-blog]

I need an editor..

Simply put I'm irrelevant. If anything, I'm a remnant of an age that, though divided, gave birth to an avalanche of contradictions. With glassy eyes I look back on my life. Is this where I expected to be by this time? Silver hairs protrude from my skull. Each a definitive reminder of times had; times best forgotten. Like the second hand of a clock I am far to impatient to be found stationary. Constantly thrown in a forward direction, yearning for solace. Rest will only come when I am no longer useful. When my duties are expected, but unaccomplished. Please retrace each step I've taken. Please discover each destination I couldn't reach with painstaking resolve. Tell me again how my effort, my fortitude weren't enough. Tell me that your success wasn't forged upon a bluff. Great minds often begin to look upon the world with blind eyes. Seeing nothing is better than seeing the reality that hides within each solemn sigh. You really want to know what the world looks like behind these blue eyes? I see the convoluted dreamer preaching promises to be had. The conceited being praised for selfishly flaunting what others may never have. The evangelist selling the afterlife and forbidding a life lived otherwise. Everyone is a therapist. Every bar is a chapel. Every day passed is another filled with the fixation of what's in and fashionable. I just hope that one day I learn how to look past it all. After all, we are what we see in the world's grandest of flaws.  Attempting to write something each day.

[wemarchundead-blog]

I still have an old I.M. Legend shirt in my closet lol. I've basically been meaning to tell you that for like months but kept forgetting until just now.

I am still trying to get everyone to agree to doing a new song together this year.

[wemarchundead-blog]

Unf...

[wemarchundead-blog]

[wemarchundead-blog]

I loved the process of making that album.

In honor of your return. wemarchundead

[wemarchundead-blog]

[wemarchundead-blog]

[wemarchundead-blog]

Pablo Neruda quote typed on a 1961 Olympia cursive typewriter

[wemarchundead-blog]

#neruda

[wemarchundead-blog]

twin size mattress // the front bottoms

[wemarchundead-blog]

I want to own all of these.

Art by TAKUMI™ (Twitter)

[wemarchundead-blog]

Oh the angst.