(Source: squidloveful, via billie-willie)
(via billie-willie)
The old man and I were separated by a marron coffee table. Shortly after he had sat across from me, he leaned over and gently placed his tired, shaky hands on the table; and as he parted his chapped lips, he uttered the words of an honest man.
“I am broken. I am old. And death awaits me.”I…
Still we stroll
In reality
beauty is seen and heard
by many a people and then
interpreted differently by each individual
In any imagination
beauty is rambunctious
and the sound, too overwhelming
for any human to truly comprehend
The separation is just, yet
we continue to bridge them
to one another
A Lonely Vacuum
In the corner of a messy room
stood tall, a red vacuum cleaner
with bristles that looked meaner
than any old household broom
His paint job was simple
and his standards were complex
across the room, he places a vex
on the lazy boy covered in pimples
The boy just plays video games
never lifts a finger around his room
the vacuum feels no more than a broom
with idly retained aims
..A short flash story about a student from the point of view of his vacuum cleaner..
"Life is good I remind myself
As the walls cave in on me
Life is fun I remind myself
As my hands shake with panic
Life is what it is, I remind myself
As I let the panic subdue me
Fuck life, I remind myself
As I scream my throat hoarse."
As the walls cave in on me
Life is fun I remind myself
As my hands shake with panic
Life is what it is, I remind myself
As I let the panic subdue me
Fuck life, I remind myself
As I scream my throat hoarse."
— Life is… (via the-lady-doth-protest-to-much)
(Source: brain-food, via the-lady-doth-protest-to-much)
