Fuck off my beat Fuck off my rhythm Don’t steal it from me Try, vetting your own, go ahead bounce to that fro to be for me Underlapped, stabbing at edges, dat rhythm, get dat beat! Where’s the one? I’ll hold it in my thin hands I’m a holder Holder of tongues Of bong … More On your mark…
Sorrowful Paper Scribbles Diary excerpt from Tuesday, February 28th, 2017 . Pure anxiety all day it was like climbing up a tall mountain without the relief of getting to the other side. . The view, the rest, the moment you way effort against the outcome. . No panic attack. . Panics attack have an end because … More Tuesday, February 28th, 2017
You can share a background, genetics, time, space but that doesn’t entitle you to someone else’s experience. Not innately by being close to that person. No, do you expect others to understand you through osmosis? No, you tell others what’s going on in your life. If they care they will listen. Dialogue with transparency and … More Whispers and a quote, 12.4.2018
There wasn’t rest for me, I lived in a prisons coated in scintillating hallow praise.
It all hurt(s). All of it.
These are the scar along my being, just not the core, scars do not equal a being.
An extension of human experience so ugly and unfathomable it is easier to try and discredit.
Often, this happens. People are disqualified from life, humanity, and protection there in because them coping with their pain isn’t Lifetime materials.
Where’s that sunny disposition?
Discredit a life unknown, ugly cries to be ignored and devalued in hindsight.
It’s annoying. … More Iron Veins, trying towards life.
An Update. We’ve mangled and meandered our way to Washington State. In this post, I write about our nightmarish and unavoidable journey back home to Washington State, land of some wonderful social service resources. … More We’ve landed. Washington State. *life event update*