and-will-be-used-in-broken-sky

CROSSTOWN HEARTBREAK

It was a beautifully cruel city back then, 
now just cruel 

Uptown girl loves downtown boy 
passes through the veil and comes out 
a spectre

The whitest arch haunts one, 
becomes the old haunt of another 

A series of question marks
riveting its maker to inaction

Girl uses word as weapon 
&the big apple of temptation 
has no time for her wars 

There’s a world out there to see 
beyond the five boroughs, 
and there will be sunsets to rival 
her prized December sky

Suns that set far far away 
from the park of broken dreams 

What happens? 
What is this life?
This loneliness
that stalks the annals of the heart 
like a cat in the dark? 

What is the power 
she holds in a stunted reality
where fruit never seems to fall?

Some people have bruises they don’t know about,
and the rain can still hurt windows as if glass
was cotton. Cotton pretending to be insides of a fist.
The sky crying newborn tears and a howl.
How a little thing can sound wolf even without teeth
and darling, this is how we are. Someone asks us
to spell love and we tell them it is a thousand bee stings
before the honey comes. How sugar can cut our fingers
gentle and war first before holding hands.
Some people have bruises and they forget
how much of their hurt becomes poem before blood.
So I start kissing your forehead. The Mars rover
is still exploring red scars and we think our moon
is jealous. This is our truth. We’re going to miss
everything beneath this sky, even cotton, even rock.
There’s a broken bridge in your hometown.
I want to see you as a child running there.
I want to catch you before you hit the ground.
—  Before The Honey Comes | Kharla M. Brillo

What’s the big deal, you might say: Who uses the handrail on an escalator anyway? Are we such lazy bastards that we need physical support just to stand stationary while an incredibly expensive, impossibly complicated machine walks up stairs so we don’t have to?

It’s the principle of the thing: Why do we have such an obviously, transparently broken machine in every public building on the planet?

Nobody uses the handrail because we all instinctively know that the handrail moves 6 mph slower than the stairs. We don’t even think to question it. The basic human right to rest our hands somewhere that obeys the same speed limit as our bodies has been lost. So completely lost, in fact, that not a single dissenting voice is raised. If a man were to stand on the escalator, notice his own limb wandering away from his torso like a timid rabbit, raise his face to the sky, and scream, “NO MORE!” – he’s the one who would be deemed insane.

But he is not insane. We are. We, who numbly accept this oppression, are the crazy ones.

5 Unsolved Mysteries of Everyday Life (That Make No Sense)

we’re still my favorite ghost story / even if neither of us died / when we wanted to / but the red still drips / the blue still seethes / i never looked good in purple / but the morphine is steady / i’m a quiet unraveling / you don’t know how to break / with an audience’s eyes on you / i sleep and / the static crackles / you sleep / and the wind settles over us / and the sky is more forgiving / than i ever learned to be / and i bet she’s real pretty / and her fist never curls / and the witch weather never hovers / i bet the sun is always shining / and you’re never wishing this / turned out a different way / i should have thrown out / the broken hourglass / the sand is stuck and / i know how it feels / i bet the moon holds grudges too / how could you not / when you’ve got everybody’s secrets / in the palm of your hand / how do you spill out over a sleepy town / and expect everyone else to / clean up your messes / if i’m always spilling my guts / maybe i should just carry around / the dustpan / i’m a ghost town / and you were just passing through / you’re a ghost town / and i liked an unsettling silence / if you’re forgiven / does that bring me any closer / to getting off my knees / you know how the alcohol burns / i know how the sleeping pills cloud / i want to know where the ghosts go / when they can’t stand to be the one being / haunted
—  GHOSTS, angelea l.

somewhere between here
and never and
an infinity in
a broken needle

palm, you sit
and wait for
me. a lonely
traveler on a

distant sea, a
paradox awaiting explanation
a raindrop before
the start of

creation. we meet
at long last
through the starlit
gates and the

lavish garden with
it’s irises and
white jade. we
sit together finally

on a cracked
marble bench and
kiss like a
supernova like a

solar flare or
perhaps a black
hole on the
edge of collapse

somewhere between here
and never and
everything else is
us, two songbirds

alone together, tired
lovers in some
sky burning moon
crumbling hidden land

—  IS THERE SOMEWHERE YOU CAN MEET ME
rebel rejuvenation

we spoil our hearts with new scars wide open,
let’s crawl inside the pain. the door took a well
deserved vacation and tears are sad,
wet memories flooding my floating carpet.
let’s sneak a ribboned box of hope inside the pain
and bid our farewell to blue life,
let’s hide in a secret trunk my gifted mother ashes,
let’s make sweet love in a unicorn shaped ballon,
let’s stare from high in the sky at the course of nature,
let’s decipher forbidden passwords with Jesus and Buddha.

let’s forget our grown up sadness and spin the record,
“happily Rebel Rejuvenation ever after”.

Golden Bee!
I bet we could spy on god’s dreams at last.
I bet we could spy on god’s dreams at last.

I bet we could meet somewhere,
praying with vagabond hands,
broken hearts, us
drifting innocent and godlike in the blurred dimension.

1.) On nights when insomnia was sleeping beside me, you sounded a lot like windchime lullabies sent by whispers of the moon saying rest now, darling. Turns out, demons have orchestras as good as angels.

2.) If breathing was a heart attack then my drum set chest blared only to the sound of our kisses mumbled into a fogged window my eyelids wished to wipe clean. I let it evaporate on its own.

3.) Thunderstorms came from the agony of missing you. Bombs rattled my voice as it quivered from getting struck by the kind of lonely you rained on my sky.

4.) Patted my heart a few times to remind me it’s not broken; bleeding out of my veins to reconcile with the bandages I stubbornly took off to check if my scars were healing. Cut too deep, might need some sewing. Don’t use anesthesia, inject the pain.

5.) Your chest was my favorite pillow; it had an oceanic rhythm of ups and downs, of gentle waves from your chin resting on my head, of faint gasps of content, of my hand a steady anchor around your waist. I held on to nights you don’t remember.

6.) When I close my eyes I cover them with the kaleidoscope spectrum of light from all the dreams I collected to piece back the fragments of me I lost so you can write your story.

7.) Sleeping didn’t hurt me, the nightmares you gave me did.

—  thoughts before falling asleep // s.c
youtube

“Your pale broken wings 
are just a bit tired from
that clear blue sky 
You don’t need to smile
for someone else
It’s okay now… to smile for yourself”

-Alones (Bleach 6 OP)

This is my all-time favorite Bleach opening. To me, it’s full of difficult to express feels. The animation, visuals, music, timing, it’s all perfect. Every time I listen to this song, IchiHime and my youth are the first things to enter my head. It’s nostalgic and… I can’t explain it. Really.

The first time I saw this, I immediately felt chill down my spine, ache in my heart, at the same time, happiness. All because I thought it was cool, with the gang and the bad guys posing like that, while the camera zoomed out, then showing their powers and stuff, it was dark and mysterious, and for the first time in Bleach, Orihime is REALLY highlighted in an opening. It appealed to me that this OP was a struggle of bringing someone who left a void in a person’s home. Like the clouds covered the sun, earth had no sunshine.

I felt pain further when I later watched the episodes. Orihime’s life just flashed before my eyes. Given that I knew her background… to see her smile and become silly like that… and then, she was abducted, no one noticed it at first ‘coz she had no family to watch over her 24/7.

But, it’s more than that. It’s more than “I’m so poor look at my past”. This is why I’m having a hard time explaining. Kubo gave Orihime problems that were no more painful than what the other characters had experienced, but this mangaka had written it in a way that would clench a reader’s heart, more than what would be felt when reading the others’ pasts. It won’t make you cry like a little bitch, but it’d affect you in one way or another.

It’s no wonder why severals characters are attracted to her. This little girl, altho she’s a fragile human- was bullied, abused, and fooled- she who should have hated life and people, who should have been anti-social and reclusive, is able to care and love almost everyone around her.

Such soft heart and optimism.

And I wasn’t surprised when I looked up for the lyrics of this song, years ago. It gave me the vibe of longing… yearning to see that gentleness again and wanting to wipe away all her worries.

“Don Quixote was an idiot

The most efficient way to destroy a windmill is to get inside and jam its striking gear, allowing it to be easily broken apart at the canister and rendering its sails easily slashed. My 5 year old could tell you that”

– My humorous parody of how everyone poisoned by using the internet and never looking at waterways night skys or reading a book thinks 

my love is a weapon and i wield it like a sword against your thighs, and i yield it like a prayer in the temple: a sacrifice to something holier than i.

who did they make love for? surely not for us who blister it with tortured flame, who twist and taunt and flood the ocean with it. why have i been lost in a love that does not float for me? why am i drowning in a love that arrows shards into my soft underbelly; the dip of my shoulder; the hollow of my throat?

what is this love that wears its falsity like a crown of thorns, like nails into palms – open and broken and bleeding, like a string of bruises parading as a necklace tell me, what is this love?

why has the sky cracked in half and why is pure Love not coming; not finding me here in the quiet dark?

A Friend at The End of the Universe: A No Man’s Sky Guide to Murder

I murdered my only friend in the universe tonight. I finally got around to playing No Man’s Sky tonight. I started my adventure as every explorer does, collecting resources to repair my broken ship. I’ve read nearly every article that has come out surrounding Hello Games’ sophomore game and have set my expectations much lower than some. As someone with nearly 100 hours in Civilization V, I was looking for a space exploration game and little more. That’s exactly what I got. 

I wandered for the better part of two hours, learning that carbon recharges my life systems and can be used to fix certain parts of my ship. Shooting at rocks to gain enough materials to put together the minor repairs required for space flight. While there was an abundance of plants and landscapes: 

there were no other people. There were no animals. It was just me. Alone in space. There’s been a lot of discussion of this when it comes to science fiction and space, there’s always an inherent loneliness. Something about the vacuum of space makes people question their humanity. As if they’re staring into the abyss. Science fiction set on other planets has a humanity to it. They normalize the cycles of Mars, learn to grow crops and grow a civilization. Those set entirely in space have a much more sinister tone. Cultures that exist in asteroid belts are often ostracized. The dark vacuum of space consumes people. 

So when I met Fluffy, I instantly loved him. I spent the last two hours shooting at rocks, watching the moons orbit the planet, and managing my inventory. I fed Fluffy and a happy face icon appeared above his head. Fluffy and I became fast friends. He followed me around, pointed me toward plants that hid rare minerals and danced around my feet like a puppy. I was beginning to wonder if I could take him on my ship with me when a stray shot intended for a store of carbon hit Fluffy. He staggered and fell. The sentries and I both rushed toward him. It was too late. Fluffy was gone. 

It hit me then, much harder than it should have. With very little interaction No Man’s Sky had made me love a character and then mourn his death. The complete absence of sentient life allowed for this tiny chimeric lizard to climb his way into my heart. 

So many games strive for genuine interactions and fall short. The relationship in Bioshock: Infinite between Booker DeWitt and Elizabeth frequently feels hollow and forced. Their motivates for interaction are disingenuous and leave the player wanting more. 

What No Man’s Sky achieves is fascinating if only in its lack of intention. By removing interaction, it places a higher value on any interaction at all. My stumbling across this tiny lizard was significant, if only because there was nothing else. 

I’m close to being able to leave my current planet and set off to explore the stars. But Fluffy will still be a postcard on my console. A reminder of the cruelty of space and that life is still fragile. Even as you are destroying every geographical feature on the map. 

234hr  asked:

first memory i was maybe 2 and my parents were having a barbecue with friends in the empty garage with the garage door open and the sun was setting and the sky was orange and i was sitting watching the street in my high chair and everyone was laughing (my name's anaya and i live in perth but i lived in christchurch then) and first movie i cried in was the wiggles movie on my 3rd birthday because the magician's wand got broken? was a very emotional child. rang grandma after to tell her about it.

i love this 

tagged by: @softsnuper thanks!
tagging: @fuckinston @ssaori @kaebyeol @atomative @riripandalili @hoyagi @astroboyband

  1. name: //
  2. nickname: Nix, Nixx, Niks, tmala (means the same as maknae in our language), these are the most used??
  3. sun sign: virgo
  4. hogwarts house: hufflepuff
  5. gender: female
  6. sexual orientation: grey ace
  7. favorite colors: black, grey, green
  8. fave fictional characters: Draco Malfoy, Zuko, Toph Beifong, Katara, Noah Czerny, Princess Aurin
  9. fave book: Broken Sky series
  10. fave bands: FT Island, Honeyst, Billy Talent
  11. fave artists: check my tags im really not up for picking a few right now
  12. lucky number: 2
  13. dream job: i have no idea. Something that will make me happy and will let me have free time at home. I don’t want to take work home.. at least not a lot.
  14. time right now: 10:40
  15. average hours of sleep: 5-7
  16. last google search: “broken sky characters” (i couldnt remember one character’s name but then i realized he’s not really my fave anyway lol)
  17. what i’m wearing right now: an old pokemon tshirt and shorts
  18. a fact about me: i have 3 cats whose names all start with M (unintentionally lol it just happened)
  19. when did you create your blog: december 24th, 2014
  20. current number of followers: 890
  21. what do you post about: kpop and sometimes dramas (mostly korean ones), some jpop, running man and actors.
  22. do you have any other blogs?: yes @someartisticname and some side blogs you can find here
  23. when did your blog reach it’s “peak”?: …i.. dont think it has?? maybe when i started posting my own content more??
  24. what made you get a tumblr?: i had one before (someartisticname) and i dont remember why i made it and i just made this so i can keep my interests separately
  25. do you get daily asks: nope
  26. why did you choose your url?: bc Heojun is one of my top biases

You know what’s funny? When I used to play TS2, my town was based on the Bluewater Village map and it had that really super tall grassy mountain right next to the circle bit where I put my town center. It went like straight up into the sky. And I always thought, “There is no way in hell there could ever be such a tall grassy mountain squashed right up next to a village like that.” 

I was wrong. 0_0

^ Ushguli, Svaneti, Georgia. Immediately on my travel bucket list!

(Photo not mine. Sorry, I grabbed it from Google image search and the link to credit was broken.)

Hey guys

especially @littleblondesoprano @walkingfashiondisaster @fire-night-sky @mysteriousalex and @spandexinspace who I talk to kinda regularly

My phone is currently broken! I can’t do anything on it at all. I’ve deleted almost everything off of it, but it still says I’m using 11 GBs of storage. While I try to figure out what’s fucking up my phone, I probably won’t be on much. Send me a message or an ask if you need something, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll see it.

Thanks in advance,

Rose

my girlfriend encouraged me to open the word ‘97 doc which contains a space opera/sci-fi novel i wrote when i was 11-12 years old. it’s 26k words and probably around 60-70% finished– i stopped working on it when i discovered livejournal and message boards. anyway, i’m surprised by how well written individual passages are? to my eye at least, i’m pretty obviously aping various stuff i was reading at the time, but it’s still weird.

Keep reading

Just The Way You Are
External image

By Andrew Hobbs

‘JUST THE WAY YOU ARE’

Glory be, at last i’m me
the one i said i’d always be,
no pale reflection fading fast
i am here and back to last,
to never disappear again
for here i am, a soul of Zen,
i did what i thought i’d always do
i opened doors and walked on through.

Hallelujah, what a joy
to meet a lovely little boy,
a sweetheart with a gentle smile
one who trekked for many miles,
with broken sandals on his feet
but a spirit way above defeat,
he’s just so brave, the bravest one
now it’s time for us to climb the rungs.

Blessed be, what a thrill to see
potential oozing out of me,
i’m floating out there, floating high
a completed sun in a cloudless sky,
and i know my wings won’t ever melt
that i’ll never wear a captive belt,
because i’m now in charge of me
i’m standing in my light and free.

Hurrah! Hurrah! I see a star
glowing near and shining far,
it’s out there dancing with the moon
to a really well-known lover’s tune,
one so many people know
it’s a gorgeous song that truly flows,
i’m sat here singing in my car
“I love you just the way you are.”

Andrew Hobbs. 11,08.16

Gratitude to Billy Joel for a truly
memorable song.

Artist unknown.

Hurt Hawk | Robinson Jeffers

”Hurt Hawk”
Robinson Jeffers

I

The broken pillar of the wing jags from the clotted shoulder,
The wing trails like a banner in defeat,

No more to use the sky forever but live with famine
And pain a few days: cat nor coyote
Will shorten the week of waiting for death, there is game without talons.

He stands under the oak-bush and waits
The lame feet of salvation; at night he remembers freedom
And flies in a dream, the dawns ruin it.

He is strong and pain is worse to the strong, incapacity is worse.
The curs of the day come and torment him
At distance, no one but death the redeemer will humble that head,

The intrepid readiness, the terrible eyes.
The wild God of the world is sometimes merciful to those
That ask mercy, not often to the arrogant.

You do not know him, you communal people, or you have forgotten him;
Intemperate and savage, the hawk remembers him;
Beautiful and wild, the hawks, and men that are dying, remember him.

II

I’d sooner, except the penalties, kill a man than a hawk;
but the great redtail
Had nothing left but unable misery
From the bone too shattered for mending, the wing that trailed under his talons when he moved.

We had fed him six weeks, I gave him freedom,
He wandered over the foreland hill and returned in the evening, asking for death,
Not like a beggar, still eyed with the old
Implacable arrogance.

I gave him the lead gift in the twilight.
What fell was relaxed, Owl-downy, soft feminine feathers; but what
Soared: the fierce rush: the night-herons by the flooded river cried fear at its rising
Before it was quite unsheathed from reality.

from The Wild God of the World: An Anthology of Robinson Jeffers by Robinson Jeffers