Saturday, September 1, 2012

Underwater Basket Weaving

You and I are the self-abusive type. The kind that likes to sit in the cold summer rain while clutching old newspapers, thinking about missing pieces and broken keys. In the morning, we'd skip breakfast and drown ourselves in work, trying to ignore the deep aching hunger in the hollow space behind our ribs. In the evening, there are only endless cups of tea. 

It's Friday night and the bass from the party downstairs is making the pencils on my desk tremble. Or maybe that's from the nervous jiggling of my leg, knocking steadily against the desk. I'm clutching my camera like a lifeline and even that doesn't feel like enough.


13 comments:

  1. wow, everything about this post is beautiful. the pictures and the words xo

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  2. i love the way you write, it's so sad and beautiful and it's something i can relate to.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you so much. Sometimes I think we all feel the same things - it's just hard to pluck those thoughts from our hearts and put them on paper.

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  3. Your blog is something else lady! i love your poetry. thank you for sharing it's a great inspiration.

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  4. I like the mood in your photos,the second one is my favourite <3

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  5. Absolutely beautiful photos, especially the second one and the perfect shot of the horses. :)

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  6. I think we're all a little self-abusive. Which is kind of sad, because everyone is so beautiful.
    The landscape shot - just holy cheeseballs, ugh.

    xx

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    Replies
    1. I dunno if there is something wrong with being a little self-abusive. I suppose the opposite of that would be a hedonist. I'm not sure if I'd want to be either.

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  7. Replies
    1. Freedom? In a way I suppose. Everytime I look at them, it reminds me of cold summer rain and pneumonia.

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