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Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table.
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars.
:thumb105902747:
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
:thumb77993659:
Can we only love
Something created in our own imaginations?
Are we all in fact unloving and unloveable?
Then one is alone, and if one is alone
Then lover and beloved are equally unreal
And the dreamer is no more real than his dreams.
In my beginning is my end. In succession
Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended,
Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place
Is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass.
Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires,
Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earth.
:thumb109761988::thumb114483790::thumb89705010:
Thunder rolled by the rolling stars
Simulates triumphal cars
Deployed in constellated wars.
:thumb111754971:
Had they deceived us
Or deceived themselves, the quiet-voiced elders,
Bequeathing us merely a receipt for deceit?
:thumb108967287::thumb80671083::thumb84887492:
But all the way, in a dark wood, in a bramble,
On the edge of a grimpen, where is no secure foothold,
And menaced by monsters, fancy lights,
Risking enchantment.
:thumb88294431::thumb109995013:
O dark dark dark. They all go into the dark,
The vacant interstellar spaces, the vacant into the vacant.
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So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
:thumb91640577: :thumb66514115:
The chill ascends from feet to knees,
The fever sings in mental wires.
If to be warmed, then I must freeze
And quake in frigid purgatorial fires
Of which the flame is roses, and the smoke is briars.
:thumb114865245:
And so each venture
Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate.
:thumb100217880: :thumb91476255:
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.
:thumb74941247:
If you came at night like a broken king,
If you came by day not knowing what you came for,
It would be the same.
the requisite shameless self promotion.
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table.
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars.
:thumb105902747:
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
:thumb77993659:
Can we only love
Something created in our own imaginations?
Are we all in fact unloving and unloveable?
Then one is alone, and if one is alone
Then lover and beloved are equally unreal
And the dreamer is no more real than his dreams.
In my beginning is my end. In succession
Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended,
Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place
Is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass.
Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires,
Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earth.
:thumb109761988::thumb114483790::thumb89705010:
Thunder rolled by the rolling stars
Simulates triumphal cars
Deployed in constellated wars.
:thumb111754971:
Had they deceived us
Or deceived themselves, the quiet-voiced elders,
Bequeathing us merely a receipt for deceit?
:thumb108967287::thumb80671083::thumb84887492:
But all the way, in a dark wood, in a bramble,
On the edge of a grimpen, where is no secure foothold,
And menaced by monsters, fancy lights,
Risking enchantment.
:thumb88294431::thumb109995013:
O dark dark dark. They all go into the dark,
The vacant interstellar spaces, the vacant into the vacant.
:thumb61706093:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
:thumb91640577: :thumb66514115:
The chill ascends from feet to knees,
The fever sings in mental wires.
If to be warmed, then I must freeze
And quake in frigid purgatorial fires
Of which the flame is roses, and the smoke is briars.
:thumb114865245:
And so each venture
Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate.
:thumb100217880: :thumb91476255:
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.
Mature Content
If you came at night like a broken king,
If you came by day not knowing what you came for,
It would be the same.
the requisite shameless self promotion.
june feature!
look here.
these photos are lovely.
:]
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beauty in rust
the beauty of oxidation is often overlooked.
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bits and pieces.
this is sort of cheating, as it is a compilation of various previous journals on other sites...but oh well.
a lot of people have been asking me to describe myself.
so...here are a few strange and ambiguous facts about me that don't really provide an accurate gauge of my personality.
:]
- my favorite word is "virulent".
-my voice mail passcode used to be the fibonacci sequence.
-sometimes i calculate the compositions of my photographs to fit the golden ratio.
-i know exactly which fabrics that fake blood does not come out of.
when i was a little girl, my favorite activities were
a. making all my barbies resemble siouxsie sioux
b. rep
impressions (abandonment)
first journal!
many thanks to whoever gave me a sub.
here i have for you a few thoughts on some of my favorite places
[involving my favorite passtime, urban exploring]
accompanied by a few images that remind me of them.
I
remnants/reminders.
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When buildings are still occupied,
We have no idea how many people go in and out of them.
But once they've been abandoned,
It's easy to tell.
It's simply an assessment, tallying up the destruction.
How many windows have been smashed out
leaving jagged dusty holes
like blind eyes in a crumbling,
© 2009 - 2024 latticeworkopines
Comments9
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thank you so much