i’m late w this template but i made my own version
“Can you just remember something?”
He slams his head against the table because something is everything and everything is too much.
Strain: Purple Punch
You are the memory that kept me going all this time. Physically unavailable, but your love is felt within continuously. I held on to you whenever I feel that the world is against me. Your memory kept me moving forward. Wanting the best for myself ‘cause I know that is what you want for me. I may not visit you regularly, but you are not forgotten, not even once. You have occupied a huge part of my heart, of my life that no one else could fill. I still long for the times when we can be together. The life I could’ve had with you. How things would be so different with you by my side. Your memory— is all that is left for me, but it sure is enough. (but of course, I would’ve wanted it the other way around) I miss you, terribly.
I remember my community college sociology professor explained racism to us very well. Calling what just happened a riot is pretty racist in and of itself. Scholars look back on the LA “riots” and call them uprisings. While destructive, the amount of crap that had been taken by black people at the time made it pretty obvious they had enough. This is very similar, at least very parallel. Sociologists and historians will understand what people failed to understand then and seem to not understand now. Anyone demonizing this like there’s no logic to it is racist. It’s not good, but it’s not happening for no reason. It makes sense if you just stop and think about it critically for a few seconds. Unfortunately, it makes a lot of sense. This isn’t the same as mindless violence. It’s not a riot, it’s an uprising.
aloud, a child climbs again /
held in lover’s limbs
When I walk along some railroad track and find
That you’re movin’ on the back roads by the rivers of my memory
And for hours you’re just gentle on my mind…
I pretend to hold you to my breast and find
That you’re wavin’ from the back roads by the rivers of my memories
Ever smilin’, ever gentle on my mind
A stoned memory
Faces moving fast,
Words fleeing loud fretted laughs
In loose looping whirls.
Nothing in my head but this
Sense of living an aged dream.
- original poem
I try to hold on, try to hold on
But you’re gone
Then I try to let go,
But your memory’s still on
The thing about missing someone or something? Nostalgia has this sweetness in it but it is inextricably tied to pain…I guess I’ve never been able to entangle it….of what is there more, the sweetness or the pain, the pain or the sweetness…?
My girl and I have started selling homemade natural body butter and I’m so excited💙🥰
Back to the time when things were so light and easy. Last 2017, I had the chance to see Palawan with my colleagues. Beside me was my closest whom I considered my sister from another mother. The sister I never had. But life has its tough waves sometimes that even the strongest of ships cannot surpass them. Just riding the tide until the sun rises up again.
Occhi pieni di speranza …