*blows into paper bag*

screamingwind281  asked:

Can you do a headcannon of the daily struggles BH would have if he were suddenly turned human?

So this accidentally turned into a somewhat fic. I don’t know what to call this haha. Some pieces of dialogue came to me so I wrote them. I hope that’s okay!  I’m so sorry if you’re on the app this is going to be a long scroll.

Keep reading

Independence Day

Happy Independence Day to our American readers!

Have a lot of fun at all the parades, BBQ’s, street events, and firework festivals. Stay safe. Don’t burn your mouths or your fingers. Try not to thump your cousin on the head, even if he is annoying. Watch John Adams. Listen to Hamilton!

And whatever you decide to do to celebrate, remember: the potential for greatness lies within you.

Regardless of type.

Regardless of age.

Regardless of gender, or sexual orientation, or race.

This is an incredible time to be alive. Embrace it.

For kicks:

Se’s: no, setting off fireworks in your pants while playing crack the whip in the street after drinking six beers is not a good idea.

Si’s: just because the family reunion sucked last year doesn’t mean it will suck this year. Though you’re completely right: bringing the same people together, and expecting any other result means insanity. Leave early.

Ne’s: this is your one chance a year to spew broad, vague historical knowledge on people while contradicting your previous statements, refusing to pick a side (King George wasn’t all that bad…), and causing mass confusion wherever you go, so use it well. Just run fast when they realize what you said.

Ni’s: try not to get in an argument with Uncle Al about the future of this country. Just enjoy the moment, if you can, and if you cannot, well, you can leave as soon as your inferior Se kicks in and gives you a migraine from all the noise. You may want to leave before you start seeing stars behind your eyelids.

Te’s: chaos on a family holiday is fine. Expect it. Plan for it. Enjoy it (or go blow into a paper bag in the bathroom). You do not have to melt down if people form the wrong line past the picnic tables. Just take a deep breath and redirect the flow of traffic for the optimal serving line … with a smile.

Ti’s: do not try to analyze Aunt Jane’s absurdities at the picnic. Her logic makes no sense. It will never make any sense. It is from the tenth level of hell known as crazy-town, it will blow all your systems of logic to hell, and you will give yourself a headache. Go show the kids how to explode crayons with water.

Fe’s: everyone is not going to have a good time today. Let them. You do not have to stop all the arguments after lunch, either. Let the idiots debate. Go chill your heels in the wading pool. But yes, SFJs, by all means carry a First-Aid-Kit. Trust me, when Big Brother blows up Little Brother with the cherry bombs strapped to a Buzz Lightyear action figure, you’ll need it.

Fi’s: have your escape routes planned in advance to avoid the people you cannot stand, since you cannot keep the look of disgust from your face the next time Cousin Bob belches the Star Spangled Banner. Off Key. Also, the family BBQ with everyone gathered around hoping to have a good time may not be the best place to air Controversial Opinions. Just saying.

Have fun, kids. ;)

- ENFP Mod

3

Oh no, I can’t be doing with this… /blows into paper bag. More OVA art.

The OP has also been announced, “Eien Mirai ☆ LOVE YOU ALL ☆” (Always and Forever Love You All”. The ED is “Kokoro to Kokoro de” (”Heart to Heart”, I think).

AFAIK the last picture are badges you get for buying tickets.

Samsie- Wedding Day

So after @girlwiththegreenhat/ @ask-joeydrewstudios wrote a Samsie proposl fanfic, I had to write a Wedding fanfic. 

I have some fanfics that take place before the wedding. 

I also teared up writing this.

I hope you love it

@ask-joeydrewstudios

Enjoy!

Keep reading

I head north for winter,
So the weather
Will match my heart.
Thankful the moon
Had caught my soul,
After falling from
A rough start.
Star gazing took
It’s toll,
On my blue skin
And paper heart.
Back roads moved
With passion,
As I fled away
From a life that
Was falling apart.

The wolf howled
Recognition.
To my lost soul
Blowing,
Like a paper bag
Through the wind.
The mockingbird
Hummed amusement
As I laid underneath
A pine, hiding from
The sun yet again.
My reality seemed
So lucid.
Being cut free
From all that had
Sucked me in.
I was walking
Toward
New beginnings.
To bad all dreams
Must end.

Warning-Part 3

Prompt: Fem!Reader has been staying with the Avengers (pre-aou) for about a week. Loki is busy with the events of Thor the Dark World, although the reader is his motivation. A certain star-spangled captain, however, has taken an interest in the new Asgardian ;). There shall be a part 4, beauties.

Tagging: @sigridlaufeyson @the-mormon-girl-in-the-books

Part 1, Part 2

Warnings: none


Loki sat on the ground of his prison. For the second time, it was littered with destruction. His face conveyed severe pain, though one could have mistaken it for a near calm state. Loki placed an illusion as he heard his brother hurrying toward him. Thor saw Loki stand up and face him. He began to taunt the blond man.

“Here to remind me that you’re allowed to see your love while I remain parted with mine? Or have you come here to gloat?”
“No more illusions, Loki,” Thor barked.

Just like that, the trickster dropped the illusion. Thor now saw the grief-stricken man before him. He was originally going to offer his brother vengeance; however, he was going to need to add something else. Finding Y/N was the first thing to come to mind.


Y/N swung the staff she had been given at a hanging punching bag. She had been living with the Avengers for roughly a week now. They respected her privacy and even gave her some normal looking clothes. Although, they were curious as to why she never removed the amulet. Steve thought it was best if she had a weapon, just in case they were to be attacked. This was the current reason she mercilessly battered the training equipment. A few moves she had learned from Sif, but she was mostly improvising. She paused to catch her breath.

“Well, I’m impressed,” a voice complimented.

Y/N turned and gave Steve a small smile. She held her staff straight. Steve started to scan her, but averted his gaze. A slight blush appeared across his cheeks.

“Thank you,” she replied breathlessly, “Did you need anything?”
“No. I just came to train…I guess we had the same idea.”
“Would you like to train together?” she suggested.

He smirked and gave a small nod.

“How about, without the weapons, though?”
Y/N chuckled before agreeing, “Sure.”

The pair continued to spar for a few more hours. They would take a five-minute breather every now and them. The super soldier took these as an opportunity to try and get to know her better.

“So, do you have any powers, like Thor or his brother?” he asked.
“No. Not all of us have those extra abilities,” she replied, “Though we seem to have a better endurance than you Midguardians.”
Steve raised a brow and chuckled. “And how am I keeping up?”
“Quite well, actually. You would’ve made a fine warrior,” she complimented with a smile, “Shall we continue?”

He gave her a nod in agreement. Steve smiled to himself as he was captivated by the woman in front of him, despite her secretive nature. He could only hope that she felt the same. 


Later, the Asgardian sat on the couch as she flipped through the pages of a book. Her eyes were glazed over as she failed to read the actual book. Her thoughts were too focused on Loki. She closed her eyes and gulped as she remembered the pain from the last time she saw him. She opened her eyes. A gasp escaped her lips as she noticed an amber color below her neck.

“No,” she panicked, “I want to remain hidden.”

As quick as it had changed, it had returned to the onyx color. She set down the book as she ran a hand through her hair. She felt a sudden chill run down her spine. Y/N quickly stood up and gazed out the window. A paper bag was blowing in the wind before quickly disappearing. Her eyes widened drastically. She hurried out onto the roof as she glanced around.

“Convergence,” she whispered.

She shook her head, chastising herself for worrying. She figured it was just an event and everything was under control. However, her nerves got the better of her. She focused on the amulet. It turned to amber.

“Heimdall? Is everything okay?”

Her questions were greeted with no answer. She reflexively clenched her jaw.

“Brother, are you there?”

Receiving no answer, she thought it best to hide herself again. The woman gripped her fingers as she tried to calm her nerves. Something was not sitting well with her.

Want to Request?

Phil fucking goddammit Lester

Title: Phil fucking goddammit Lester

Genre: high school/boarding school au with all the fluffs and agnsts and some smutty chapters later

Warnings: none really except for swearing and mentions of smoking oh and also really shit titles

Summary: Dan really liked it here. Here he could focus on his work and his friendsand keeping a low profile and he could just be. But then Phil Lester comes along and fucks everything up. Phil Lester is the school bad boy. He wears leather jackets and smokes and has tattoos and piercings and has sex in the bathrooms. He’s the exact opposite of little shy Dan Howell with his flower crowns and pastel jumpers.

CHAPTER ONE

It’s the first day of school. Ridgewell Private School is in the middle of nowhere, far from Dan’s parents and town.

As he walk threw the front doors of his dormitory and into the office he notices his best friend pj. Pj’s sitting with Chris, his other best friend. They spot Dan and motion for home to come sit down with them. He walks over, sets his stuff down and sits across from pj. They’re waiting to be assigned their dorm rooms so they talk about their summer vacation, what teachers they want to have (or don’t want to have) and school in general. When Dan hears his name called he lifts himself off the chair and walks to the desk where one of his favorite people in the whole world is sitting with a bright smile and and dyed pink hair.

“Hi, Louise” Dan says with a smile.

“Hello Daniel” she says back with a laugh.

“Don’t call me that!” Dan says as he feels a blush rising on his cheeks.

“Oh, stop it. I can call you whatever I please.”

“Anyway, what’s my dorm room” he’s say hastily wanting to change the subject.

“You’ll be in room 405. It’s on the 4th floor so here’s the elevator key.” She exclaims and hands Dan a laniard with 2 keys on it.

One is bronze and worn down from use. The other is fairly new and silver. He takes them and nods as he makes his way back to where Peej and Chris are sitting. He informs them of his room number and then grabs his bags and makes his way to the elevator.

-

He presses the button for the elevator and waits. The door opens a few moments later and out walks Phil Lester. Phill fucking Lester. With his dyed black hair and electric blue fringe tips. His leather jacket covering his tight black t-shirt that shows of how lean but muscular he is. He has a lighter and box of cigarettes in his hands. His snake bites glisten in the florescent lights of the hallway. He can see a few of his tattoos. They suit him very well. At least the ones he can see from underneath the cuff of his jacket and the ones adorning his Chet and neck springing up from the collar of his shirt. He looks so fucking hot. Like so fucking hot.

Dan just gawks at him. He freezes when Phil brushes past him not really noticing the boy until he stumbles into the elevator. They turn around simultaneously and lock eyes for a second. Dan blushes as Phil looks him up and down then smirks. Dan wants the walls of the elevator to swallow him whole, because Phil fucking goddammit Lester smirked at him. And fuck it was hot.

When he gets to his room it’s unlocked. Probably because his roommate has already got there. He pushes the door open and expects to see some kid unpacking his stuff, but the room is empty except for a suitcase on one of the beds. It’s decorated with a blue and green plaid duvet and little lion plushies. A Buffy poster is hanging half assed on the wall.

Dan wonders for a second who is roommate might be then decides it’s not that important seeing as he’ll just ignore them whoever they are and hang with Chris and Peej. He begins to unpack. Firstly grabbing the bag he knows has his bedding in it. He pulls out his black and grey plaid duvet and notices that it matches the one sprawled on the other bed. He laughs to myself as he pulls out his aqua colored sheets. He quickly makes his bed not forgetting to put his Haru body pillow on the right side.

He turns to grab his suitcase with his clothes in it and his flower crown swings off his head. At the same time the door swings open and Dan can hear whistling and the loud smack of bubble gum. He looks up to see a structured face. His cheekbones quite high and prominent on his face. His jawline very defined with a tiny hint of stubble on it. His nose is slightly crooked and a nose piercing hangs from his left nostril.The most beautiful part is the boys eyes. Clear blue with thin stripes of green that match the duvet run out from his pupils. Little specks of yellowish gold litter the iris. It looks as if you could swim in them. The black hair on the boys head slightly covers one of his eyes and he notices it dyed a familiar blue. Dan is mesmerized but is quickly snapped back to reality by the smack of gum and the low gravelly “Hey” that leaves the boys perfect mouth pierced by two metal rings on either side of his bottom lip. Dan recognizes the voice and the hair and the eyes and takes a step back to see Phil Lester in all his glory.

“Hey,” he says again a little louder this time.

“H-hi” Dan manages to squeak out.

Phil chuckles a little and moves past Dans almost frozen form. He picks up Dans flower crown and hands it to him.

“Th-thanks” Dan splutters out. Phil turns to his bed and plops down on it reaching for the phone in his back pocket.

Dan turns and continues unpacking as nonchalantly as possible. He can feel Phil’s eyes on him as he bends over to get his clothes out of his suitcase. Heat rising in his cheeks and spreading across his body.

-

“So, Flowerboy…” Are the first words Phil utters to Dan the rest of the day. “…like what you see.”

Dan is surprised by the comment and turns around still blushing from earlier.

“U-uh uhm, what?” He stutters and mentally curses himself for letting Phil have this affect on him.

“I said, ‘do you like what you see?’” Phil repeated. He got up and walked over to where Dan was standing beside the wardrobe. He continued to back Dan up until his back was flush against the wall and Phil was looming over him staring hungrily.

Dan nodded frantically as Phil ghosted his hand over the boys thigh. Dan whimpered and Phil backed all the way up until he hit the wall opposite Dan, leaning like he owned the whole building. He looked Dan up and down and laughed once before getting up and blowing Dan a kiss then walking out the door leaving Dan to ponder what the fuck just happened.

Later when he’s hanging with Peej waiting for the orientation to start he tells him all about what happened.

Peej stares at him, a look of nervousness and pity washing over his face as Dan continues with the story. Peej lost his virginity to Phil Lester in year 10. It tore him up real bad because after, Phil pretty much pretended like it hadn’t happened. He’s mostly over it now but Dan knows he doesn’t want that to happen to him. Pj has always been very protective over his friends.

When Dan finished telling him all about it Peej looked more angry and concerned than pitiful.

“This is bad Dan really really bad. You need to stay away from him. He’ll chew you up and spit you out then walk over you like a paper bag blowing in the wind.”

“Damn Peej calm down. I know that and I will stay as far away from him as possible.”

“Promise me”

“Ugh, ok I promise.” Dan held out his hand for Pj and he took it shaking wearily.

-

Chris had come to sit down with them and orientation started as usual. The administration saying how wonderful it was for everyone to be back and introduced some new teachers and staff. Then he got on to the bit about expectations and rules and dress code. Unlike most boarding school, Ridgewell didn’t require a uniform. Dan loved that bit because he was free to wear his pastel jumpers and skinny jeans and his little flower crowns.

Everything was going quite smoothly. They split off into groups and wandered the campus with a guide telling them about all the great opportunities and clubs and things they had to offer. Dan hadn’t noticed he was in the same group with Phil until they reached they science hall and Phil brushed past him. Phil cupped dans ass and squeezed ever so lightly making a small gasp escape from Dans mouth without his permission. He saw Phil smirk as he moved forward to get to one of his friends. Pj burned a death glare into the back of Phil’s head. He was absolutely fuming and Dan could see that. His fists were not balled up and he was moving tensely.

“Hey Peej calm down ok. It’s fine I won’t let him do that again”

“No it’s not Dan. He can’t do to you what he did to me. I won’t let that happen.”

“What are you all going on about?” Chris said hesitantly looking over to Dan

“I’ll tell you later” Dan said a little reluctance in his voice.

When orientation was finished everyone went back to there respective dormitory. Dan stayed with Peej and Chris for a while since they were assigned the same room. They ordered a pizza from the campus call box and talked about school and everything. They played a quick few games of Mario kart before it was time for roll call.

Dan returned back to his room to find Phil lying on his bed on his phone with a big evil grin on his face. Dan scurried to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He took a quick shower and got dressed for bed. He was wearing a mint green shirt with a large Eiffel Tower printed on it in black. He wore just his regular pastel boxer briefs and laid out his clothes for the next day. He walked out of the bathroom and Phil looked exactly the same as he had left him minus the maniacal grin. His jacket was laying on the edge of his bed and now Dan could see his various tattoos. A galaxy crawled up his chest and neck. A graphically drawn lion adorned his biceps and a dragon crawled up his wrist. He had loads and loads of tattoos but those were the ones that stuck out to Dan. Dan cursed himself when he realized he had stopped in his tracks just to stare at Phil.

When he looked away it was already too late. Phil had noticed and he was smirking again. That fucking smirk that made him look like a hungry hyena searching for his pray.

Phil stood up and pulled his shirt and jeans off and walked into the bathroom in just his boxers leaving his clothes on the floor. As he walked past Dan to the bathroom Dan turned to look. He could see all of his tattoos now. He had two diamonds placed on his pelvic bones and another dragon sprawled on his back creeping up to meet the nape of his neck. He had tiny stars and dots littered across his arm in different shades of purple and blue and black. They surrounded other tattoos to form a very spaced out looking sleeve down Phil’s arm. A few different roses in different colors and patterns adorned his neck and chest. Though all of them were different they all seemed to work very nicely together.

When Dan realized what he was doing it was too late (again). Phil was grinning as he said “wanna join me?” In a low smooth tone. Dan tore his eyes away from Phil’s body to look at his face. Dan’s eyes widened and he managed to squeeze out a small ‘no’ before turning to crawl into his bed. Phil continued into the bathroom. Dan heard the water turn on and he slowly but surely fell into a restless sleep before Phil got out.

‘Selma’ Director Ava DuVernay on the One Star Who Turned the Film Down: ‘She Did Not Want to Do It’


MOVIES | By Anita Bennett on December 28,
Wrap Magazine 2014: DuVernay also opens up about why she had to rewrite Martin Luther King Jr.’s iconic speeches
Ava DuVernay faced a daunting task in bringing “Selma” to the big screen. The drama, about the 1965 Civil Rights marches in Alabama to demand voting rights for blacks, had already been through several directors by the time she came on board.
Adding to the challenges, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s estate would not grant the team behind the film permission to use his iconic speeches. Still, DuVernay managed to put together a critically acclaimed drama which debuted strongly at the box office this weekend after Paramount pictures rolled it out in limited release. And thanks to “Selma,” DuVernay recently made history as the first African-American woman ever nominated for a Golden Globe Award in the directing category.
In a wide-ranging interview with TheWrap, the former Hollywood publicist spoke openly about the challenges of making the film, how King’s family reacted to seeing it, and about Oprah Winfrey turning her down several times before finally joining the film’s cast
TheWrap: How did you come to be involved in this project?
Ava AvaDuVernay: It was through David Oyelowo. We had worked together on “Middle of Nowhere,” which was my previous film. He had been cast previously by Lee Daniels in “Selma.” When Lee Daniels went off to make “The Butler,” David just really and truly kept the film alive … Spike Lee had already come and gone from the project, from what I’m told. So they had told David they were just going to wait for another filmmaker to emerge, that they felt strongly it should be a black filmmaker… He requested they take a look at me, and that’s how he basically kept the film going when it was director-less.
Were you involved in the casting?
I’m the director! David was the only inherited cast member… Everyone else, we started from scratch. Lee Daniels had cast it up, a really interesting cast of characters. Hugh Jackman was involved at one point, Cedric the Entertainer was involved at one point… When I started, it was a different story, different script and a different idea on how to approach it… I just started calling people that I love. Love me some Giovanni Ribisi. Love me some Tim Roth. Don’t know them from Adam and they don’t know me, but sent them the script and asked and they responded to the material and we were off and running. Had an amazing time with them. Lorraine Toussaint was someone I worked with on “The Middle of Nowhere” who, literally, I would put in a production of a paper bag blowing in the wind because she is so fantastic.


Anybody that you had to fight for?
Oprah. She didn’t want to do it. She did not want to do it. I asked her several times… She was the only one I had to really pitch
This is very different compared to your previous micro-budgeted films. How was your approach different?
What people don’t realize is that we made this film in only thirty-two days, which is only thirteen days more than I had on “Middle of Nowhere.” Thirty-two days to make a historical drama, a period piece with large set pieces, action pieces, violence, animals, firearms, huge sermons and speeches and marches in thirty-two days. The Bloody Sunday sequence on the bridge was shot in a day and a half. So, with that kind of run-and-gun, that very accelerated time frame kind of atmosphere, it felt very much like indie filmmaking. It was indie filmmaking. It’s hard to articulate what $20 million wasn’t. It was not lobster rolls in craft services… We put everything on screen; no one got rich.
We’ve heard you wrote the speeches in the film. Can you expand on that?
There’s not been a major motion picture made with King at the center in fifty years… A big part of the reason why was because of the intellectual property and because, for better or for worse, the estate — and that’s not necessarily family, that’s the intellectual property agency or whatever that manages the rights — has control over how they’re used… I just untethered myself from those words and anchored myself in the intention of those words and rewrote the speeches as closely to his cadence and his intention as I could.
Why do you not have a writing credit in the film?
Because Paul Webb, the original writer, had a contract. So, the credit is completely contractual. It’s up to him whether or not he wanted to share credit and he chose not to.
Is there going to be a credit battle?
Neither one of us are WGA. He’s not guild, I’m not guild, so there’s no guild to get involved. It’s a purely personal choice and he made his, so we move forward.
Do you know if anyone from the King family has seen the film?
I was just with Bernice King and Martin Luther King III… They both saw the film and we were at Ms. Winfrey’s home where they saw the film side-by-side with [Civil Rights activists] John Lewis and Andrew Young, with C.T. Vivian and Diane Nash and Joseph Lowery and Dick Gregory and Sidney Poitier… They expressed satisfaction at the way that it was done… It meant so much, not just for the King children to say, but also the people who stood next to King during these times…. and so for them to say, “Yes, this is right” or “Yes, this is well done.” That’s what brought tears to my eyes, when all of them were together. It’s been an amazing experience.

The Sign's First Day of High School
  • Aries: Trying to look like they're a senior
  • Taurus: Is nervous because they don't recognize anyone from middle school
  • Gemini: Already has 43 new friends after first period
  • Cancer: Tries to look for someone friendly, ends up on the fourth floor looking for the pool
  • Leo: BFF's with Gemini and the class queen bee
  • Virgo: Has a panic attack and spends lunch in the bathroom blowing into a paper bag
  • Libra: Seniors keep asking her where she got her shoes from, forever has an inflated self esteem
  • Scorpio: Sits by themselves in the lunchroom checking out the seniors and mentally killing their new classmates
  • Sagittarius: Gets caught trying to skip
  • Capricorn: About to cry from the workload
  • Aquarius: Under a tree, barefoot, singing and becomes popular with the indie kids
  • Pisces: Has a hello kitty lunch box and eventually becomes best friends with Cancer.
Mountain

I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

                                                            -Walt Whitman, Song of Myself

 

In this universe I make what death means

by my right hand, privacy becomes a stick figure

in the topleft corner, wealth is a series of overlapping dollar signs.

I’m happy about this day of days.

I am born and was always 42

trees growing over each ridge. The answer

to life, the universe, and everything.

 

I sing of textured grass and flex my wireframes beneath bitmaps.

I’m getting high on this transparent sky.

The wind whips through my speakers and ripples with scanlines.

I wait for the rain and it comes to put out barbecues and forest fires. 

I feel happy about being alive.

I can’t think of nothing greater than this.

I watch myself rotate.

I pull to the top and look down from above the clouds.

I pull into the floating base of small rocks and let it save.

I keep these trees filled with flashing white dots crimson,

like blood vessels. I’m basically this new day.

I’ve taken to stretching myself within this window.

I’m at once the monitor and tree bark.

I’m a total babe.          

I’m an 81 megabyte spinning mountain and I love myself. 

 

I feel at one with the universe inside this overcast day

My rotations keep constant.

The leaving of leaves, the paper cones, the white dust.

There are millions of suns. 

Can you see them rising?

Have you stopped to watch the wind whip

paper bags or blow dirt into unsuspecting eyes?

Have you thought once of a thousand acres? The earth? 

Have you left?

 

I’ve collected the remnants of leftovers:

Signposts dig into my spine

Boards of wood stretch across my abdomen.

Lonesome tooth, broken egg. 

A sailboat and rotary telephone.

Movie reel.

Bowling pins

Six sided die.

 

What is the meaning of this? I wonder about

this misty dawn light. I can’t get enough of this warm summer.

The smoke becomes crimson again.

I want to find something outside the universe.

Scrolling further,

Saving—

I hear windchimes stuffed into square waves. 

I spell man and hear the beginning of beard hairs, 

nights in front of television sets, triangle lullabies. 

 

I must endure this autumn afternoon.

I am floating alone.

I zoom out and see myself among the stars.

I feel the ripple from outside myself.

I’d love to tell someone about this.

Hellooooo?

I fear I’m talking to myself.

I can’t feel anymore movement.

No fire ant colonies, no mountain lions.

Will I find another like me? Floating rock, lonely mountain.

 

Still waiting.

I’m reminded of my childhood in this night of nights,

spinning clouds around the summit.

Just one mountain in a sea of mountains unseen. 

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love.

What is sadness?

Now it seems.

The beautiful uncut hair of graves.

I have heard the talk of the beginning and the end,

But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.

Look for me under your fingers 

in your screens, inside your binary code.

I stop somewhere waiting to boot back up.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,

Missing me one place search another,

Is this some kind of game?

a great communion inside this black night?

I feel I have nothing to fear in this day of days,

Night of nights, for I am mountain and I just felt god

in this blooming morning.