i am trying to build this capacity within myself to feel more okay about saying the things that i want to say. i feel like i am very prone to judging myself and the things that i say, which is something that can definitely be used constructively, but there are obviously extremes of anything and sometimes this self-critical aspect of my personality/process/whatever can lead to excessive self-censorship, or unfounded doubts or fears or anxieties. i feel like if i didn’t allow myself to feel these things as often as i have, i would have said a lot more things by now and produced a lot more content, and probably ‘improved’ a lot more in this regard. again there are of course situations where tact, or moderation, or respect, or whatever, is appropriate, and i feel it is always important to reflect deeply on the things that we say and the ways in which we say them, and the relevant impacts and implications thereof, but overall i feel like i want my art and my writing to be somewhat less self-conscious. i feel like that will be more constructive for both myself and for the things that i create. it’s okay to be imperfect and trite and obvious, sometimes. as long as i’m being honest i think it’s okay.
i’m on a bus and the world feels infinitely beautiful and infinitely sad. someone in front of me is playing a ukulele and someone else is singing a song i think i remember from a previous life. when enough people talk at once it sounds like what i think space would sound like if space sounded like anything. the clouds outside are grey and everywhere and look like so much more than they’ve ever been. like, you know how sometimes the clouds just feel so much more real, so much more there. if we were outside we’d feel their weight in the wind, i think. i don’t know. i don’t know many things. i know that every time i start trying to write something about feeling small and confused and afraid i need to stop myself to remember that it’s okay to feel these things. it’s okay to feel this much. it’s okay. sometimes the simple and obvious things are the most important things to remember. we can always be more than we are but we don’t need to be anything more than we are right now. hey, look, it’s raining. the drops against the window look like they’re in a rush and i’m trying to imagine what a bus on a highway would look like to a drop of rain as it falls. i think i’m starting to understand now what it means to have capacity, to be and to know and to love. i don’t think we ever learn anything, or create anything. we just realize and recognize things into reality. and i feel excited knowing this. i feel grateful, humbled, okay. everyone can create something beautiful with their lives. if you don’t believe me then just bury me in the rain and wait and see what happens. just wait and see. the other day i let myself feel sad because sometimes the sadness just feels warmer. that evening, i was walking with someone as the sun was setting and i stopped and pointed at the clouds and said ‘look’ and they stopped and said ‘i know’, and it felt infinitely beautiful, and it felt infinitely sad.
damn son you have a rad ass brain. fuckin respect <3
hey, thanks. i read this on a bus and smiled to myself. someone in front of me is playing a ukulele and the clouds outside are grey and massive and passing by in blurs. i hope you’re having a nice day being alive. let’s all keep going.
can you reblog that post you made several, several months ago about how the writing community on tumblr being so bad (it was very sarcastic, talked about getting into the "cool" clique of the community, and a bunch of other stuff i forgot...)?
hey, thanks for the message. i feel somewhat averse to reblogging that post since i wrote it that long ago and i’m unsure as to how i feel about some of the ideas and sentiments expressed in it, but you can still read the post here. have a nice day.
i’m lying in a bed far away from home and listening to the crickets outside. the stars above are countless and everywhere, piercing the infinitely black sheets of the night sky and it reminds me of last summer spent on your balcony. the air is so clear here and the days so long. in the mornings you can hear the animals waking, walking, flying, singing. i was sitting outside this evening and talking with two guys who at the start of the week were strangers, watching the sun dip into the endless trees beneath the clouds—purple, white, golden. we were talking about what beauty looks like and what it means to truly recognize it and i felt like the entire world was there before us, like we were the gods of every living thing and that it meant absolutely nothing to anyone. sometimes the world just feels boundless, the air so full of everything and my feet so ready to jump. in the dark under the stars you told me that it was okay to feel this small and this afraid. there is always music here and when i smile i know that i mean it. i’m just trying to understand what kind of things the human mind seeks to understand. there are actually people in this world who are this excited to be this alive, to be in this life and to be doing something great with their limited time here, now. i can feel here the breaths of my soul and in a week i’ll be packing my bags and thinking about payslips and enrollment options. my stomach is grumbling and i feel so grateful for almond milk, pancakes, bananas, felafels. i feel tired, sometimes uncertain, but always present. i mean, is it enough to be conscious? i’m just tired of feeling like i need to remind myself to be alive. i’m just tired of writing these letters to these nameless yous, these dead gods and faceless parents. i think i’m ready to accept intentionality back into my life and i hope you can join me, too. in high school i kept a sticky note beside my computer that said ‘be excited to be great’ and i think i’m only now starting to understand.
there are people everywhere and we don’t even know that we don’t know them until we do. the world can be so beautiful sometimes and i’m just tired of ignoring its reminders, its motivational sticky notes, the sun setting into the trees, your smile in the glow of your smartphone. sometimes the world feels incredibly fucked and sometimes it just reminds me of us—falling, sighing, revolving endlessly through the dark, conscious, infinite confusion of space.
merry #christmas #fireworks #night #sydney #summer
i want to say hi properly.
i swear this isn’t another dumb poem about 5am or the sky or you. i’m just trying to remember why any of this still matters. the things we do. the places we remember, the people we forget. the world always seems so awake to me when it’s this asleep. it’s insane how the birds can remind us of so much. just sit and listen to them and try not to think about last november. the sky clear and the streets empty. i guess they never really left. i don’t think i ever needed the internet to learn how to love myself but i’ve been wrong before. i really do want to know though if you’ll remember my name when i’m gone. words can be so much sometimes. ’how can i ever become anything if i’m this afraid of everything’. i let myself have that last one. i’m just trying to remember why the clouds still matter. there are so many things inside of me and i’m so tired of feeling nothing but the past grow. i’m so tired of asking about the right things. i’m so tired. maybe if i cared just slightly less about everything i’d have found fame and fortune by now. or maybe just happiness, at least. that seems okay. i’m trying harder to be okay, harder than i ever have. we’re more now than we ever have been and i just want to say all of these stupid trite things before it’s too late. like what if the sky really does fall. what if the world really does end. what if i never get to see your smile when it’s waking up because i was too afraid to laugh. just let me be young and ridiculous. let me see the world at midnight and sing with it at sunrise. let me sing for this shitty youth. just let me sing. i wonder if my friends would stay and listen if i told them that i knew the answer but was still figuring out the words to explain. words can be so much sometimes and i’m just trying to remember, why i still matter, why the clouds still matter, why any of this still matters.