Uncertain's picture

#8 placeholders for thoughts

There are too many things to learn in this world.

Wanted to journal but once again not on my computer so will keep this brief.

The world is full of well intentioned selfish people who will care about you as long as you care. You drown if you care too much.

//

I am preoccupied with money. I see worth in monetary terms, at least when it comes to employment. Unfortunate side effect of being a demanding conservative overbearing parent's son. Regrettable.

Super Duck's picture

Airport Woes

On Friday, one of my professors told me I had a nice speaking voice. I was honestly really, really shocked since I've always been incredibly self-conscious of my voice. There's some quality to it I don't really like that I can't quite place. It's not what I'd think of when I think of an "annoying" voice, but there's just something about it. (I've found that it's not nearly as bad as it could be, though. I've met a few girls with really shrill, screechy voices, and I'm glad I don't have that! I'm also glad that I have no traceable accent; no one has ever guessed where I used to live, and I've had more than a few people be totally surprised upon finding out.) But yeah, he said that it was calming and that it will serve me well. Definitely an unexpected compliment.

anarchist's picture

Dream Journal #13

The human species was being threatened by a new disease that was being transmitted through liquid contact with animals. This disease slowly caused the blood to become stagnant and pressure in the bloodstream to rise, making veins bulge and skin pale before death.

radiosilence95's picture

11/25/13

I'm heading home for winter break in about an hour. I'm dropping off my friends at the train station, then making the two-hour drive back home. It'll be nice to be home again. I'll have a week to relax, then I'll start working at my old job all through December. I need money. I've been a little excessive with my spending these past three months, and my checking account has suffered. At least I've learned my lesson.

Perhaps We Should Leave's picture

Ugly ugly ugly ugly ugly

Beautiful things are good, ugly things are not. I know this. This is my creed.

The problem with this is that I am so terrifically ugly, within and without.

Liar, sadist, abuser, freak. Other names that I don't dare speak for fear of who might see.

So ugly.

Worthless. Cannot create anything beautiful. Never will.

Ugly is wrong. By its very nature, ugliness is intrinsically bad. I am so terribly ugly.

I should not exist.

lonewolf678's picture

Some of The Things About Old Houses

The vestige now but once built in a time that was prosperous. We still see many old houses that lay around, the ones unihabited seemingly depressed. Say for example the house that's en route to my college. It sits, boarded up, decrepit and sags on a failing foundation nearly a century old, yet it remains.

Chipmunk2015's picture

life

Have you ever wondered what life would be like without us? The ones that are LGBTQ, the ones that stand out,the ones that people pick on,on a daily basis. Ya you have, WE ALL HAVE! Without us the LGBTQ groups we wouldn't even be abke to be ourselves. we would have to stay inside not near anyone and stay in "the closet" as they call out. IF YOUR OUT AND PROUD SAY IT DON'T HIDE IT!

appletime's picture

Faces

My partner told me to post a thing here. It's been a while and I've been lurking, so here's a speech I did.

Last year at this event, I read a speech about names. Trans* spoken word poet Miles Walser writes in a poem called Nebraska about the murder of Brandon Teena that “They don’t remember our names until they read them on our tombstones.

elph's picture

Virginia high school state tennis champ comes out!

"When Virginia state high school tennis champ Michael Drougas decided to come out to his Salem High School on Twitter two weeks ago, he was nervous. He and Salem High reside in conservative western Virginia. He figured there was a pretty good chance the reaction wouldn't be so great."

Here's his very inspiring story in Outsports:

http://www.outsports.com/2013/11/18/5115222/mikey-drougas-gay-virginia-h...

anarchist's picture

Dream Journal #12

I had an alternate version of the dream from #9. This time, instead of being friends with this guy, I met him and he was a complete asshole and I pretty much wanted to kill him, he was that mean. I can't remember any specifics, but now whenever I look at him I simultaneously get angry and sad because of how mean he was to me in that dream.

I think the dream might have been a misplaced personality of someone I really hate who everyone else I know loves for some reason. That person thankfully wasn't at school today, which made the day much more enjoyable.

lonewolf678's picture

Dreams Sway to a Point

A point where I almost saw a blur between friendship and something more.
Ugh, wish I had more time to write. :-\

Perhaps We Should Leave's picture

Right so let's go nutters

So I was watching a movie to-day (specifically it was a pornograpic movie because why the fuck not) and I started wondering about why the things that are are the things that are, yea?

elph's picture

Jack Andraka: Maryland high school teen; scientist… and gay!

Jack Andraka… his earned accolades abound! If unaware, do a Google. Even the pope is impressed:

poetic_star's picture

sunspots and dying orchids

* inspired by the character, Thomas, in Downton Abbey.

There are no ghosts in
your winter-clothed heart
but real monsters claw at
the fleshy, pink walls,
screaming insults that
reach your ears
all the way from inside.
Thomas, maybe
your mind is a damaged
window because
ten years ago,
some mean private schoolboys
threw a stone
through the rainbow-lace glass.

And maybe your lips are bruised
by ex-lovers
who never bothered staying
past nine,
leaving you alone to burn
your fingers against
a vanilla candle flame.
Thomas, your green
eyes were blinded

poetic_star's picture

voodoo angels

*inspired by this quote: "Love exists in powder. Love exists in pills. We are all addicts."- Pete Wentz, Gray

I used to fall asleep to the crunching
sound of riots in the alleys
outside my window
when I was a child.
But boy, you never had that luxury.
While I was always
searching for secret passageways
and trap doors under floorboards
and between sweaty cobblestones,
you never even tried to touch
the delicate shadows up in
the attic back home.

But there's something about
your perfectly tailored self
that still gets under my skin,
making me want to find all

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