stranger's disease

"i wish i believed you when you said that this was my home"



moon quiz (pisces, sixth house)

answer this post with your moon sign and house + your answer to these questions:

1. when upset, do you tend to confide in others or to isolate yourself?
i usually confide in others. if i don't, i usually get sick. i've been trying to control who i tell my secrets to, though. who i open up with and why.
2. when you have a problem, do you try to fix it yourself and avoid telling people, or do you tell them before trying to solve things alone?
i always try to fix it myself first but i am pretty good at knowing where my skills end and i'm not too proud to ask for help. it's impossible to know everything. if it's out of honesty, asking for help is always nourishing.
3. when things in your life are going fine/alright, are you anxious that it won’t last and keep wondering what will be the next bad thing to happen?
i know a bad thing will happen, but it doesn't keep me from being happy. i can't risk happiness, since it doesn't happen very often. i usually find myself submerged in other parts of my life that i don't really like.
4. do you have gut feelings? do you trust and listen to them?
i do. and of course, i swear by my own instincts. i'm ultra perceptive, and i know when things will happen. psychic, in some sort of way: i can see things coming. i have visions. i can meditate and visualize the future.
5. if you had to treat someone you really don’t like in the most friendly and polite way, could you do it, or would it be impossible to you?
it's nearly borderline impossible. my body can't even stand it.
6. from 1 to 10, how easy it is to make you laugh? 
5. you gotta be real funny or have a special sense of humor i connect to.
7. if someone is talking very incorrectly about a subject you know a lot about, do you correct them or do you let them have their fun?
i let them have their fun but suffer in between. i learnt that people do not like to be corrected. i only do it when i don't like the other person, honestly
8. imagine you really have to tell a lie to someone you care about. are you more likely to freak out and blow the whole thing or to just tell the lie?
i am a great liar.
9. do you feel uncomfortable hearing other people tell self deprecative jokes? do you make self deprecative jokes?
i get kind of uncomfortable if it happens to often. i do it too, mostly to hide my own discomfort.
10. if you mispronounce a word in a group of people, do you tend to actually laugh at your own mistake or to be really embarrassed?
i am embarrassed. i tend to mask it up. sometimes i do laugh, if i feel comfortable enough.



i want to remember myself like this forever





all of my efforts are now centered
to one pivoting force which resonates
as the words you say when you are over.
the world is propelling me to move on,
towards the future, towards the present.
it is reserving its divinities for who i want to become;
for when the blossoming seems proper.
i couldn't see it at first, i had covered my eyes with dirt
i had eaten it, had digested it poorly.
with the times buried deep underground i understood how well
i can reinforce my sense of belonging,
not into a community, not into a place,
but inside myself.
this is self-proclaimed victory.
i can only win for myself.
whoever that may be.




i know who you are
you are the beast
of whom they have spoken about
and this is our truth
the one we chose to live by
engraved in your white teeth

scattered, belongs to the dead man
can channel anything
and will tear anyone apart
that ever tries to pull him
away from what he wants

he has been seen
shone into daylight
has been missing
missing fear, fear of missing,
falling apart and wishing, for once,
he was truly dead –
can that happen to you?

 will you ever die
   or will my memory be a lifeline?



three character studies: the king

when i first met him i thought i was dreaming. lucid enough the building guided me, empty and walls white as sheets, while behind my rubber soles i left a dirt stain on immaculate white floors. he was one of the first persons i met upon my arrival: i was absolutely mortified, in a state of cold sweat and hot flashes. i was scared. but he never scared me.
there was the boss. i suppose you would consider him to be the king, but i don't. he said he needed to get somebody else. this new somebody sat directly by my side. and i knew he would rule. 
he has never pressured me or ever made me feel the pressure of my own will, but i have struggled to keep his hopes intact. there's this implicit design and need for me to commit, something that has been weighing upon my morale for a while now. i didn't put much thought into his self until he started to remind me of somebody i knew. it wasn't bad, it was simply uncomfortable. i grew interested in his childish sense of humor, in his carelessness, in his calloused hands. the first physical feature that strongly struck me were the arms. he seemed to fragile in my eyes and then there were his arms, strong as steel. then came the squared jaw, then came the deep brown eyes; it was magnetic, i couldn't dare to say no. i then scanned slowly, over time, the remaining features. i came to the overwhelming conclusion that i always found him very attractive. there's a mixture of sweetness and vitality in his stoic personality. when we sit and chat and he adds too much sugar to his drinks i know he is watching through me. i try to relax but i can't. he doesn't let me. it seems like a fencing game. he's trying me, in order to get me to understand. he can see more in me than i thought. i always wondered why they would ever pick me, why they would want me there, occupying space, resources, time. why i was fit for the job. there's something he, and only he has seen. that's how he rules over me. he has timed my actions in his lazy way of scolding me for missing class. he has relentlessly built up a scaffolding for my making, but hasn't seen me in action. i have been working so hard to impress him. i have been working so had to understand why. my conclusion only adds to knowing that he sees himself in me. he supports this project even more than i might ever do because he knows how it feels. i think he could make anybody cry without raising his tone of voice. i think he has seen me cry. he has made it clear that he knows i isolate myself and hesitate. insistent, he claims that i need to listen to these ever re-ocurring casual coffee conversations. there's a watching eye, a predator, that has got its claim on us, ruling from the palace right at the end of the hallway.



two years

oh my god i was so in love with you what happened to us? i was over the moon, i could have done anything, anything for you. since day one. always. i loved you deeply. cared, tried. bled. what did you do to me? thank god i don't feel that way anymore and i can comfort myself in knowing i am not in there again




i feel like myself.
no no i didn't feel like this before. i felt like something was missing,
like poorly framed, about to fall off
dead skin, peeled off my arm, something like that. you get the picture.

today i laughed with frank ocean in the background and talked to myself in the car.
i had good conversations with the roads.
i have good times with myself.
i wanna go back to museums
to escaping people and
what they know of me.
what they think i am.
i am back to being me. the me i always wanted to be.

the one that sits deep within and with a fragile mind meditates
on such issues like art
or how deep the universe could be.
the one who appreciates the effort and the romanticism of solitude.

i just told somebody
this is gonna be a lonely time
but it's gonna be so good for me



carrasco drive (blood excerpt)

i was on a taxi back home
and me and my friend we were angry drunk
we spoke english
i barely remember the conversation
but i was so, so pissed
and frustrated
but i couldn’t cry in front of her
i was making fun of somebody’s girlfriend
and she was complaining about her job (surely)
and we both felt so alone

i dropped her off and the driver took me home
he parked at the door and said
“i heard you both talk,
are you americans?”
i said i wasn’t.
“i grew up in miami”, he said
and then he turned to english. he said
he had lived in new york
and had a strong al pacino-like accent.
he asked why i was angry.
i told him i was very lonely.
and very sad. i had mistakenly had my heart broken that night.

he said i looked like i was smart, and i was gonna figure it out.
i cried. he said it was okay. we are all lonely some times
and we move on.
he held my hand. he said i was gonna figure it out.

i got off the car and i felt a little bit better.
why did he throw himself into that?
sometimes i find that meaningful conversations take place
when i’m drunk
and with strangers.


king krule, live on the moon


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