Useless12sstuff - Catharsis

okay but why are all gifted/talented kids gay and/or depressed now

The fantasy of the human being is infinite, enjoy the piece that you get.  By Key Monster

So peaceful Souvenir. A brother singing ancient Andalusian song in Al-hambra palace.

“Sometimes, a blessing will come your way simply because you wanted it for someone else.”

– Shaykh Muhammad Mutawali al-Sha'rawi

Anastasia Trusova on Instagram

There is only one victory, and it has someone else's name on it.

~Me

"So Now?"

the words have come and gone,

I sit ill.

the phone rings, the cats sleep.

Linda vacuums.

I am waiting to live,

waiting to die.

I wish I could ring in some bravery.

it's a lousy fix

but the tree outside doesn't know:

I watch it moving with the wind

in the late afternoon sun.

there's nothing to declare here,

just a waiting.

each faces it alone.

Oh, I was once young,

Oh, I was once unbelievably young!

~Charles Bukowski

Short Stories #1

Missing

He disrupted the crisp, foggy air with his hurried gait. A man dressed in a brown trench coat and a peculiar black top hat moved swiftly but stiffly, as if trying to act casual, through the dim lit, narrow, cobbled street of Paris. Mist drifted lazily at his feet due to his fast pace and a crescent moon peeked from behind the dark, heavy set clouds, just barely illuminating the mysterious, harried man's face. Beads of glittering sweat had gathered on his forehead and brows while his face held a sickly pale pallor. Though his face was blank, there was poorly concealed fear in his dark eyes. His hands trembled and lips quivered, twitching the greying goatee on his chin, for the barest second. His shoulders were tensed and held taut and his back was ramrod straight as he took a sharp turn into another street. The lights flickered but he continued, his pace getting swifter. The lampposts puttered and the lights went off allowing darkness to envelope the surrounding. For a long minute there was stillness and silence. Even the echoing clacks of the man's shoes had halted. After a minute, the lights flickered on again and underneath one of the lampposts lay, on the dewy ground, a brown trench coat neatly folded and a peculiar black top hat resting on it. The man himself, was nowhere in sight.

Our ancestors speak through us.

~Me

Do you ever get that intense yearning to learn in the middle of the night? The universe, the stars, mythology, languages, art, history, culture, physics, psychology, philosophy and anything and everything you can get your hand on. It's as if knowledge becomes alive at night.