the part-time anti-hero

i write, i ramble.

Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery - celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from - it’s where you take them to.

—Jim Jarmusch (via infinite-bliss)

(via freakkingd0m)

nickels and dimes

focus shifts to blue
to you
falling through stars to get back to where you are
blossoming moons and waning words
trees hidden (bare or bearing fruit?)
warm touches, comforts given
landscape tinged with golden hues,
air tinted fire, atmosphere smoldering,
all the anchors in the ocean won’t stop the sun from setting

nightmares (first draft)

dreams of fictionalized victriol,
blood oozing from old, infected wounds
a laugh a laugh a laugh a shot
it will be a fair exchange
but am i deserving or un?
of pity, of loss?

a need that’s overwhelming thumps
head heart chest skin lungs
frailty all-consuming and enduring
stuck sonata stimulation