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feralconservatives:

Sorry, sorry I’m just a failed attempt
A ticket stub to a last run show
More late night wine…bad tattoos
Say “on your honor means bein’ on yer own”
My best friend’s wife won’t let me in their house
I’ll drink their wine and run my mouth
Who says you can’t have one without the other?
My pastor wants to see me dry
Says my blood alcohol/ambitions too high
To think his condition supersedes my own willpower
And all who live in corners will come to confer life upon this image, multiplying the shades of being that characterize the corner dweller. For to great dreamers of corners and holes nothing is ever empty, the dialectics of full and empty only correspond to two geometrical non-realities. The function of inhabiting constitutes the link between full and empty. A living creature fills an empty refuge, images inhabit, and all corners are haunted.
Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space (via likeafieldmouse)

(Source: heteroglossia)

Depression

You ever have someone put their foot on the back of your neck and hold you down like a bug on hot cement?

Don’t tell me to get happy because I can’t.

Ever been raped from the inside out?

Not that I don’t want happiness.

It is some vague memory at this point.

Did you ever have someone break your bones with their bare hands?

It used to be just memories

but now it is a toxic betrayal.

My chemistry is revolting.

I miss my passion.

Did some beat you with a rolled up newspaper?

Once I had dreams strong enough to forget.

Are you invisible and mute?

I am sure I am screaming, but maybe I am actually a ghost for all that it does.

Did your parents desert you for their own madness.

I had hoped I escaped it.

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