I look at you with a lens of hate
I look at you with a lens of hate carefully structured into stories, schemas I've already made from birth in my head y = mx
biting my tounge
Biting my tongue/ This is it I am not going to run after you anymore. I am done biting my tongue. I am done chasing after hope
Happening/ A hidden gem I am ego driven. Your father's bike slipped in the monsoon rain; He was not wearing a helmet.
The Slayer of Raktabīja
Now I’m sure most of you know the old story about the astronaut who went far out in space and was asked, on his return, whether he’d been to Heaven and seen God. He said to them, “Yes.” And so they asked, “Well, what about God?” He replied, “She is black.” - Excerpt/Alan Watts (1915-73)
the prodigal son returns
On a blistering cold night in mid-December if you were there, you could surely hear bone-tired screams from a girl in ache
Check your Horoscope, dude
Aquarius (Jan. 20–Feb. 18): You need to stop talking so much in your head. Why are you doing that? Like dude that's a lot of talking. The more you talk to yourself the less you are in the moment. That's a fact.
The Land Grower
Grimy sweat glistens down brown leathery backs, hardened by the loud equatorial Sun as we stab the earth to plant more crops, our heels caked with flooded black mud that is so sticky, it has gripped our souls birth after birth, since before these lands were colonized, by men from faraway creeds, who left here after ejaculating all over, told us these lands were liberated, and that we, the children of these fields, were it’s new owners...
The Beginner's Guide to Building a Time Machine
Last December I turned twenty-eight, or was it twenty-seven? I stopped counting after twenty. Many people do not understand why I stopped counting.