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    1. what creative projects are you working on?

      this seems like a good time to bring back this question and maybe make it more consistent and recurring since there's just been an influx of new people. i last asked this about three months ago...

      this seems like a good time to bring back this question and maybe make it more consistent and recurring since there's just been an influx of new people. i last asked this about three months ago and i'm sure there are both new people to answer this question and new ideas that people who already answered or would answer have come up with since.


      for my part, i did this post just now as a short little thing. on the larger scale, i've been intending to get back into editing my personal worldbuilding wiki because there's a bunch of shit i want to do with that, but college isn't exactly leaving a lot of time for it and every time i try to start on stuff gets tedious so i've been holding off on it for a little bit. i've also been chipping away at the fun that will be one of several religious books, but i don't really know how i want to structure it yet so the verses pictured and others are liable to get shuffled around at this point.

      33 votes
    2. Productive vs non-productive creativity

      I have a slight struggle that I wonder if anyone else can relate to. I'm a creative "type" in that both my job (scientist) and hobbies (many, over the years) require constant innovation, in...

      I have a slight struggle that I wonder if anyone else can relate to. I'm a creative "type" in that both my job (scientist) and hobbies (many, over the years) require constant innovation, in addition to the usual labor, to keep them going.

      I have a note/journal app where I store my ideas. Sometimes these are ideas with acute utility e.g. an experiment design that I can test out the next day at work or maybe an idea for a paper. Other ideas are what I would consider "highdeas" - insights or thoughts that seem amazing when you're stoned but after you sober up they're kind of nonsense. The former are productive and the latter are non-productive forms of creativity (barring any offshoots of the latter that prove useful later on).

      But then sometimes I get idea in-between. Say, an insight into how certain human behaviors are a certain way or maybe a rant on a topic/issue in my lab work that is interesting but not valuable enough to publish or bring up in a formal meeting. My question / discussion topic for you, is, what do you do with these sort of self-ascribed interesting ideas that have no immediate value? One option is to write them out on a forum, as I am currently doing, but I would end up writing all day. Does anyone else keep track of these? Do you schedule a follow-up with these intermediate ideas for future inspiration? I currently use Joplin which is great but I don't think there are any features to stimulate creativity in this manner.

      23 votes
    3. The Ceremony

      This is a short, experimental story I wrote. Hope it's interesting. As I opened my eyes the whirl of indistinction calmed and I was standing there in a room paneled in wood, rich and dark and...

      This is a short, experimental story I wrote. Hope it's interesting.


      As I opened my eyes the whirl of indistinction calmed and I was standing there in a room paneled in wood, rich and dark and polished slightly. It was time for the oath. She stood at her lectern with her book open in front of the priest, who turned to the needed page and bid her to sing, which she did, sweet and calm and certain, without dramatics or pomp. Why would she need it? It was what she was to do. She smiled, I think, her form was not clear except for the vague impression of her gently rounded cheeks and lips the color of a rose too pale a pink to be said red. And now the priest was across from me and my book opened to its song page. Seven squares, (or was it nine?), filled mid grey onto the paper ruled across with needle fine lines the color of rust. It was old, plainly, but still strong. I felt looking at the page a feeling I had never known, not quite joy or determination or happiness or fear but an immensity as if I had for a heart now an infinitely faceted gem in whose faces you could find any color if you would only let it catch the light. It was like madness melded together with a certainty so strong anything less than “it is” fails to reach it. I feared I could not voice it, and said as much to the priest. To point at the page and utter “Sing.” was his only response. And I did, tremulously and weakly, but I sang, and through it came a sweetness despite me. And it was done. Through the haze now I remember the ascent up the stairs and my body collapsing onto the white couch my head landing in her lap, and her final exclaim “_______! We are!”.

      5 votes
    4. Would anyone like a free website?

      I do web and graphic design professionally, but currently have some free time. You can see some of my work here. You would still need to pay for the domain registration (15$/year), but I could...

      I do web and graphic design professionally, but currently have some free time.

      You can see some of my work here.

      You would still need to pay for the domain registration (15$/year), but I could provide hosting.

      Bonus if you’re a starving artist, non-profit, or doing something humanitarian. I’d prefer not to do one for a business, since they should be able afford to pay someone, but feel free to make a case.

      I would build it with Wordpress and incorporate Divi so you wouldn’t be entirely dependent on me to make future edits yourself.

      I’m far from an expert and mostly do front-end, but like helping people and love the community here.

      38 votes
    5. art is trash.

      hiiiiiii everybody guess who drunk for the first time this year ayeeeee we're back i love it i hate it i miss you how damned lazy is the poet who only ever writes. how wasted is the painter who...

      hiiiiiii everybody guess who drunk for the first time this year ayeeeee

      we're back

      i love it

      i hate it

      i miss you

      how damned lazy

      is the poet

      who only ever writes.

      how wasted

      is the painter

      who drowns out his lines.

      how atrophied

      the pianist

      who cannot bend the light

      if this is art then it isn't mine.

      .

      a screw

      driver is useless

      when nails

      are the nuisance

      an easel

      is pointless

      with verbally

      mindless rhymes.

      .

      to what length in an artist?

      if you cannot wield

      every edge of the

      toolbox right?

      .

      not every thought

      is at best

      through emo

      writings expressed

      kid, sometimes

      you have to

      know your lines.

      .

      to better outline your problems.

      (better outline your problems)

      better sketch out your issues

      (guarantee she don't miss you)

      better sculpt out the tissue

      and try to attend to

      the shit you

      can only rhyme.

      .

      what a waste of an artist.

      .

      what a waste of an artist.

      .

      you call your poems cathartic

      but that's your only

      medium, right?

      .

      you wanna be a God

      you better step up

      better learn to

      do your makeup

      hopefully you learn

      to draw her thighs.

      .

      better off dead otherwise.

      .

      if you're not the greatest it's a guise.

      ich lebe noch von dir

      so if i won't be remembered

      then by your God

      i should prolly' die.

      .

      what the fuck is an artist.

      .

      wjo is reallt an aritst.

      .

      you call your poems cathartic,

      but that's your only

      medium - right?

      13 votes
    6. fuck you.

      God put me at ease deliver me to peace. if you're above deliver me to love. there's not a sign you're months without a call. i begin to think you never cared at all. in winter breezes hang me from...

      God

      put me at ease

      deliver me to peace.

      if you're above

      deliver me to love.

      there's not a sign

      you're months without a call.

      i begin to think

      you never cared at all.

      in winter breezes

      hang me from the trees.

      god i'm sick of

      never feeling enough.

      make me crease and

      break me at my knees.

      tarot prophet guide me

      with your crystal ball.

      .

      read the names i've

      written in my skin.

      banish me to walk

      alone in cold.

      hit my face and tell me

      this is it.

      kill me, say you

      never cared at all

      .

      screaming in your car

      you said you'd call the cops

      if i don't take my seatbelt off

      on our way home and walk.

      .

      screaming in our home

      you'd always slam the doors

      and leave the silence ringing

      in the halls

      .

      alone in dark i wailed

      you didn't care.

      as you sat there on your phone

      and talked and talked.

      .

      always acting like

      i wasn't there.

      even asked me to pretend

      that we were not.

      .

      remember back in college

      when you made some friends

      and tried to make me hide,

      not show me off?

      .

      tried to tell them

      i was just a friend.

      and when i protested

      god you told me off.

      .

      but when i made you mad

      how mad you went.

      and appeared inside my room

      without consent.

      .

      i walked in and found you there

      sat at my desk.

      it should've ended there

      but i regressed.

      .

      i said we would grow past it

      never did.

      always made me second guess

      the life i live.

      .

      it's not my fault

      that you stayed home alone.

      why do i slash and cry and pray

      that you'll pick up the phone.

      .

      tell me why i love you

      when it's wrong.

      .

      .

      .

      tell me why i want you

      when you're gone.

      .

      .

      .

      i want you to ignore me,

      miss my calls.

      .

      .

      .

      if at least you'll speak

      to me at all.

      fuck you.

      i'm sorry.

      i love you.

      fuck you.

      fuck you too.

      12 votes
    7. A journey through love with Richard Brautigan

      so i've just recently learned about this guy, and his work is quickly becoming a favorite of mine. i'm admittedly crazy poorly-read (is that the antonym to well-read?) when it comes to... well,...

      so i've just recently learned about this guy, and his work is quickly becoming a favorite of mine.

      i'm admittedly crazy poorly-read (is that the antonym to well-read?) when it comes to...

      well, anything besides self-help books released up to "The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck" by Mark Manson.

      and his work has been concise and just fucking accurate enough for me to enjoy.

      so i present you all,

      a journey through love, with Richard Brautigan.


      -2

      Everybody wants to go to bed

      with everybody else, they're

      lined up for blocks, so I'll

      go to bed with you. They won't

      miss us.

      in this first stage, we see that little Richie's met himself someone special, and off they go arm in arm to live happily ever after.


      Romeo and Juliet

      If you will die for me,

      I will die for you

      and our graves will be like two lovers washing

      their clothes together

      in a laundromat

      If you will bring the soap

      I will bring the bleach.

      and here we see something that, personally, i found surprising from a poet who got his start in the 50s.

      this piece emulates the incendiary, passionate, limitless love that some of us have been lucky enough to experience in the early years of our lives. the love where it's the both of you against the world. the love where the most mundane tasks seem incredulous solely because they're done together. the love that i have only seemed to find in life, through trauma bonding.

      their love is powerful. their love is radiant.


      I Feel Horrible, She Doesn't

      I feel horrible. She doesn't

      love me and I wander around

      like a sewing machine

      that's just finished sewing

      a turd to a garbage can lid.

      their love is over.

      the crass yet poignant imagery somehow simultaneously flashing feelings of uselessness, self-loathing, and loss.

      you are here.


      Haiku Ambulance

      A piece of green pepper

      fell

      off the wooden salad bowl:

      so what?

      the sheer stoicism here is inspiring to me.

      this is the mindset that i want - and don't have the emotional energy to cultivate.

      were Brautigan still around and kickin' today, i'd buy the man a shot of the best whiskey i could get with $7 and thank him for emulating the exact mindset i want, need, and desire

      in four lines.

      it's simple - the green paper is a fraud, illusory. from afar or even from near with a quick glance - the green paper is another leafy green of the salad. a leaf of lettuce, a bit of cabbage. even if you press your face into the bowl and smell, the paper will smell of salad and nothing but.

      it falls onto the floor, you pick it up to throw it away. you notice the texture inapropos with more roughness, and frailty than a leaf of a vegetable. you test it - you tear it.

      it was paper.

      it was not the spinach you'd desired.

      it was not real.

      it was not what you wanted.

      regardless of the time you've spent preparing the salad, chopping your veg, blending your dressing, tossing it all, and fixing it for presentation,

      if you throw this paper out - it will be no loss, and your salad will only be better for it.

      a green piece of paper fell off the wooden salad bowl.

      so what?


      Love Poem

      the piece that brought Brautigan in to my attention in the first place.

      It's so nice

      to wake up in the morning

      all alone

      and not have to tell somebody

      you love them

      when you don't love them

      any more.

      resolve.

      clarity.

      peace.

      the earlier bleach has gone unsipped. she has come, she has gone. he has suffered, he has grown.

      and now, he is at peace.

      his world back to...

      normal.


      this has been a journey through love with Richard Brautigan.

      4 votes
    8. ganz allein Glühwein.

      I'VE GOT red wine nicotine fresh chocolate chip cookies the plaid heated blanket that keeps me cuddled up in the recliner that doubles as my bed. I'VE GOT red wine daydreams moving to a different...

      I'VE GOT

      red wine

      nicotine

      fresh chocolate chip cookies

      the plaid heated blanket that keeps me

      cuddled up in the recliner that doubles

      as my bed.

      I'VE GOT

      red wine

      daydreams

      moving to a different city with a different scene

      i wanna meet new friends,

      try codeine

      find love or find drugs to console me

      I'VE GOT

      red wine

      thin skin

      pink like your soft cheeks when they're sunkissed.

      haulover beach, you were naked

      on a trip,

      and you screamed, and you screamed, and i hate it.

      I'VE GOT

      red wine

      ain't shit

      except seven little boxes full of bullshit

      old love notes kissed with red lips

      seven boxes of evidence you didn't mean shit.

      I'VE GOT

      a lotta bit of lethargy

      all my energy drained.

      i remember the day where you looked at my eyes

      and you said "babe since you met me you don't look the same"

      you looked at the bags,

      (beat.)

      and you said "that was me"

      (beat.)

      and of course i dismissed it

      said babe don't be silly

      i envisioned us happy and said that "you make me complete."

      I'VE GOT

      red wine

      white lies.

      red wine.

      red wine.

      GOT.

      red wine

      no time.

      it's time.

      lifeline.

      6 votes
    9. gripthroat grapes.

      we met in a field i plucked a fruit from your veins you encouraged me to eat i exchanged with you a name. . i kept you close inside a jar and with time, you turned sour you encouraged i add water...

      we met in a field

      i plucked a fruit from your veins

      you encouraged me to eat

      i exchanged with you a name.

      .

      i kept you close inside a jar

      and with time, you turned sour

      you encouraged i add water

      lest it be the final hour.

      .

      my glass turned pink

      with the hue of your skin

      you explained - it's drink,

      you encouraged me to sip

      .

      i never knew beauty

      like your taste upon my lips

      you are my favorite poison

      and i have now, not a drip.

      8 votes
    10. normal.

      hey this is tildes so i should talk about code. i dont type each > for the markdown individually. got a tiny function i wrote that does it for me: https://repl.it/repls/HonoredRubberyProfessional...

      hey this is tildes so i should talk about code.

      i dont type each > for the markdown individually.

      got a tiny function i wrote that does it for me: https://repl.it/repls/HonoredRubberyProfessional

      so there's that for anyone who wants an easier time formatting their thing.

      stuff at the bottom. not necessarily inspo. just.

      yeah

      i just

      want to go back

      to normal.

      normal like in 2016

      when i had a little cash

      and spent it all

      on books, coffee, clothes, teenage shit

      i was nineteen

      we had yet to meet

      back to normal

      like the centuries

      where i would never be

      from the dawn of the earth

      up to the nineties.

      back to normal

      back to friends

      back to hobbies and dreams

      back to having endless things

      that i found exciting

      back to normal

      when i'd stay up a little late

      and fall asleep, be up at 8

      and make my coffee

      not living in the night,

      sleeping in the morning.

      .

      but the meds are all a hex,

      cyanide with side effects

      take this pill if you're depressed

      now youre a narcoleptic wreck

      and your car's a crumpled mess

      so momma drives you to your check-

      ups full of shit you never said

      like how you wanna quit - dead.

      because you say something she think

      is wrong you end up in the shrink

      with all the people with the bigger problems

      thrashing as they shriek

      and you wake up on a table

      see the warden of the clink

      shoving hands into your mouth

      tryna feed you what they think

      'll fix your fucking problems.

      hooked - benzodiazepines.

      and now you're mellow, now you're numb

      for now your skin'll cease to bleed

      and still you look around in envy

      pretty people - normalcy.

      .

      i gotta get out this house

      get back to normal

      maybe she can't find me there.

      maybe i can get a text

      or get some coffee

      breathe, not even care

      'bout if i'll turn a cursed corner

      see her curly golden hair,

      and have a flashback to the nights

      spend crying lonely in despair

      as she would sit, a room away

      sipping vodka in here chair

      taking snaps and scrolling insta

      for her modelling career

      and i would wail my soul would bleed

      praying that her heart would hear

      and she would get up, come and hold me

      stroke my hair like "mama's here."

      and i could breathe

      our love immortal

      i want nothing but a world

      where i am back in full control

      through death or breath

      just make me normal.


      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5NB7RBZ1yGY

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w--D1S8SrCQ

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NO5JLdsNxSk | Lyrics

      8 votes
    11. I made a program that creates the colour palette of a film

      I saw these things originally on Reddit that extracted the average colour of frames from films and put them together to make a colour palette for said film, the original creator has a site called...

      I saw these things originally on Reddit that extracted the average colour of frames from films and put them together to make a colour palette for said film, the original creator has a site called The Colors of Motion. I thought it would be cool to try and create a simple PowerShell script that does the same thing.

      Here are a few examples:
      Finding Nemo: https://i.imgur.com/8YwOlwK.png
      The Bee Movie: https://i.imgur.com/umbd3co.png
      Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone: https://i.imgur.com/6rsbv0M.png

      I've hosted my code on GitHub so if anyone wants to use my PowerShell script or suggest some ways to improve it feel free. You can use pretty much any video file as input as it uses ffmpeg to extract the frames.

      GitHub link: https://github.com/ArkadiusBear/FilmStrip

      17 votes
    12. reimagining the lyrics of "Andria" by La Dispute

      currently 7 hours into a 24 hour shift that will see me through to the end of this project. this song came on that helped me find catharsis when i last felt like this in 2014. coincidentally, i'd...

      currently 7 hours into a 24 hour shift that will see me through to the end of this project.

      this song came on that helped me find catharsis when i last felt like this in 2014.

      coincidentally, i'd just finished one of my few milestones in the project

      i could take a break if i wanted to.

      i could hear the words filling themselves in, treating the song like a template.

      decided i'd take a minute to "remix" or "cover" this song for how things are going this time around.

      here's the original.

      maybe give it a listen, then jump into this piece,

      out of words now.

      bishop


      [Verse 1]
      You still cross my mind from day to day
      And I mostly cry
      Still so set on finding out where we went wrong
      and why
      So I retrace our every step with a bloodwet knife
      Trying to figure out what your head thinks
      And my head just ain't what it used to be
      So I ask,

      ...what's the point anyway?

      [Verse 2]

      I remember bringing boxes up the stairs to your apartment
      Knowing love was slipping
      rapidly away
      I remember the skin of your forehead
      Your nose and your lips I'd always kiss when I was out of things to say
      You held my hand, and you would always promise me
      You'd promise me pretty things but I would never understand
      I remember when you said you didn't love me
      And I swear not a single force on earth could stop the trembling of my hand

      [Verse 3]
      I remember how you smiled through the smoke in a crowded little coffeehouse
      And laughed at all my jokes
      And I remember the way that you dressed
      While we wasted all the best of us in alcohol and sweat
      And I remember when I knew that you'd be leaving
      How I barely kept up breathing and I bet if I could to do it all again
      I'd feel the same pain
      I remember faded driving through the city in tears
      How I wept to god in fits, I've hated Texas ever since

      I've found it's true what people say
      That death and drugs can numb the pain
      And every single day I want to fade away, cus

      [Verse 4]
      I still remember independence tricked us
      And lead us helpless holding cash into a pit to be devoured
      I still remember how we held so strong to this
      Though we had never really settled on a way out
      I still remember your blank face
      And how we'd always find a way recommit the same mistakes
      I still dream that it would all come back together
      Just to fall apart again

      [Bridge]
      My dear
      I hear your voice in mine
      I've been alone here
      I've been alone here
      I've been afraid, my dear
      I've been afraid, my dear
      I've been at home here
      I've been at home here
      You've been away for years
      You've been away for years
      I've been alone
      I've been alone
      I've been alone
      I've been alone

      [Verse 5]
      I breathed your name into the air, I etched your name into me
      I felt my anger swelling, vision black, I can't see
      I held your name inside my heart but it got buried in my fear
      It tore the wiring of my brain, I did my best to keep it clear
      So dear, no matter how we part I hold you sweetly in my head
      And if I do not miss a part of you, a part of me is dead
      If I can't love you as a lover, I will love you in my death
      Anything to see you smile, keep you happy in my end.

      3 votes
    13. hello

      hi i'm bishop and i'm the guy you probly see inside your dreams who shows up for half a second then i morph into a sheep no wait im bishop im the guy who's in the back of that one photo that you...

      hi i'm bishop
      and i'm the guy you probly see
      inside your dreams
      who shows up for half a second
      then i morph into a sheep

      no wait im bishop
      im the guy who's in the back
      of that one photo that you
      took out by the beach in
      2018 out in cabo

      hold on, no, it's bishop
      it's the person that you messaged
      when you posted up on tumblr
      needing help with your depression

      i mean

      no

      wait

      i'm bishop!

      i mean

      i'm 1930s jazz superstar Cab Calloway.
      i don't really play many instruments
      but i can sing
      i'm a throat player

      hi my name is bishop
      and i'm actor Matthew Lillard
      hah like zoinks babe, i was shaggy
      let me take you out to dinner

      but then she turned to me
      all worriedly
      i asked her "whats the problem b?"
      she said "i'm not some pretty girl,
      i'm bishop! i'm your coffee!"

      and i looked around like what the hell
      and down onto my bed i fell
      the pillow was my face
      i was the bottles on the shelf

      hi there pal, my name is bishop!
      wait i lied it's Captain Morgan!
      don't you love the way i
      can't walk straight in my own Jordans
      (that were actually pretty expensive shoes, like who pays that much for shoes? i mean i get the aesthetic and all i have some jackets that were kinda expensive but like

      ...dude.)

      (cough)

      hi my name is bishop
      but i'm really Roddy Piper
      and i'm feelin hella Rowdy cus my
      ex she made my life hurt

      i mean wait
      no

      i'm Bert Kreischer!
      i'm im a machine!
      and i'm a funny guy!
      i'm hella rich, i'll slide some money by
      if you can sing me beddie-bye

      no fuck
      i'm Tyler Perry
      i make really funny movies
      and i think you'd probly like me
      if you ever really knew me

      i mean

      im bishop
      and i eat a lot of fruit
      but i still cant seem to get rid
      of my stomach
      i've considered "fasting" before and i used to but i like to cook too much so i end up like not eating for a day and then cooking a lot (like a lot) and really enjoying that meal and the whole process but it kinda nullifies the whole thing.

      i'm gordon ramsay.

      i'm

      im chef Joel Robuchon and i have hella Michelin Stars

      and my heart burns

      i mean fuck i ate too much i'm

      im'm larry the cable guy, do you have heartburn? i could

      *sigh* sell you

      Prilosec

      i'm bishop

      i'm

      ....

      anyone but me.

      cheers

      10 votes
    14. goth sex and human sacrifice. [nsfw]

      y'already know who it is bishop - little punk bitch. 's go. no need to comment or whatever. just yelling at the internet today. Xes On My Eyes For Life. tw: self-harm/suicide/alcohol/drugs startin...

      y'already know who it is
      bishop - little punk bitch.

      's go. no need to comment or whatever. just yelling at the internet today.

      Xes On My Eyes For Life.

      tw: self-harm/suicide/alcohol/drugs


      startin off the year all
      alone inside my bedroom
      lookin back in the past
      what i been through
      how you'd pet my hair,
      cuddle close in my bedroom
      now ain't nothin but depressive
      air in the bedroom
      look what i get up to
      xans and the mushrooms
      body don't have much room
      left for me to love you
      it pushes all the air out
      in case you maybe come thru
      you took all of my breath out
      and i can't even speak you

      name into the air
      with no fingers in my hair
      sippin whiskey in my chair
      i can see your shadows here
      you told me "lay it bare, give
      your heart and boy i swear"
      from now until the day you die
      i promise i'll be there."

      now i'm broken down
      and wearing out
      your voice in my head
      get it out
      i'm gettin up and pullin down
      the liquor off the shelf

      my empty bed is
      screaming out
      i'm praying that you'll
      hear me while
      i'm masturbating moaning out
      "I'm gonna kill myself."

      Прости меня,
      Пожалуйста
      now is my time
      убей меня
      princess - зайчик
      i can't take it
      baphometic
      angel - wrists slit

      cus i'm broken down
      and wearing out
      i know the truth you
      hate me now
      i'm gettin up and pullin down
      the liquor off the shelf

      my empty bed is
      screaming out
      i'm praying that you'll
      hear me while
      i'm masturbating moaning out
      "I'm gonna kill myself."

      7 votes
    15. So Spoke Zarathustra

      BISHOP NEHM MICH UNTER - UNTERGANG 2019 Xes on my eyes for life seems like some people 'roudn here tdont know that bishop an emo rapper on the comeup 👀 so lemme introduce myself bonjour im bishop....

      BISHOP NEHM MICH UNTER - UNTERGANG 2019

      Xes on my eyes for life

      seems like some people 'roudn here tdont know that bishop an emo rapper on the comeup 👀

      so lemme introduce myself

      bonjour

      im bishop.

      i write hella poetry, and i just got a midi board and a expensive-ass course on Logic Pro X so imma learn how to produce as well.

      imma kind, lighthearted fella, but poetry is my muse to get the dark shit off my chest

      and rap is the zeitgeist now so i dont gotta feel ashamed of that anymore lmao

      i sold my soul for love and cash, but that keeps biting back

      we'll see how siht plays out

      .

      i love comments, and always peep my inspo tracks or we cant be friends

      (jk but srsly)

      much love, spread positiv y, all of that shit,

      bishop


      ps i also cook a lot so if u hungry for some plants hmu

      peep tha inspo at the bottom


      a wise man once said
      don't let your dreams be dreams
      so any time i go to sleep
      it's always nightmares indeed
      a lucid hellscape, i cant
      move i cant scream
      as i lay there unawake
      my fists pounding at the sheets
      it steady creeps, in my head
      it lays dormant in the day
      but still it's stench seeps out
      constant suffocates my brain
      as i struggle for a breath
      and my heart starts to race
      i just wanna lay down and
      fantasize a better day

      chasin xanny with the whiskey
      give a fuck about my kidneys
      life feels like a living hell
      if the furnace isn't in me
      so im steady blowin smoke
      out my lungs like a chimney
      my body like the house that
      you used to live in with me
      now it's empty and i'm starving
      feelin ugly, i'm not eating
      but the devil promised riches
      thus, the dark, i will believe in.


      So Spoke Zarathustra
      we're in this shit again
      as i built up another hope
      and then i lost another friend
      now there's demons in my head
      i expose my skeleton
      i thought that i could trust you
      always swore you're genuine

      but now i'm in this swamp again
      and i be wadin' through the water
      my skin begins to bubble up
      my blood is getting hotter
      and i can hear a voice within
      screaming out with an offer
      all the pain will end if i just
      offer up my slaughter
      let the water take me under
      let the Bishop take me under
      i could send my soul away
      and throw my body in gutter
      and i shudder in my slumber
      fingers gripping at the sheets
      and i wake up in a sweat
      this is what she did to me.


      don't let your dreams be dreams
      let them be nightmares
      when your soul's in the dark
      you can trust that the night cares
      upon a hilltop
      there stood a white mare
      who scoffed my direction
      took off and left me there

      taking an L like
      fuck, i'm here again
      Zoroastrian hell
      as my heart starts withering
      cut that bitch out,
      used my last breath
      to bury it
      fell to the ground
      as my life was
      diminishing

      send me to hell
      then at least i'll be free of this


      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DxvLc2a6Iao&t=112s

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Ff0bq_ydEQ

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w--D1S8SrCQ

      if anyone would be interested in my top 10 emo rap tracks of 2018 lemme kno because i know what they are i just font have the everny to write a wholeass post on it but if yall want it i will

      bye now

      6 votes
    16. Who Miss a Lil Durnk Bishop

      BISHOP NEHM MICH UNTER we off the drink we off the emo shit esskeetit peep the inspo track sat the bottom or we cant be ffriends sold my soul to the devil so that i could feel valued remember bein...

      BISHOP NEHM MICH UNTER

      we off the drink we off the emo shit

      esskeetit

      peep the inspo track sat the bottom or we cant be ffriends


      sold my soul to the devil

      so that i could feel valued

      remember bein in a empty

      home with a vacuum

      former straight-edge

      off the drink, off the valium

      wanna go back to our

      mornings with the cartoons

      made my heart a whale

      then you hit it with a harpoon

      bleedin on the beach, staring

      up at the full moon

      sometimes life rains

      down in a monsoon

      i'd be glad to drown if

      it means i can love you

      .

      but i cant even hug you

      can't even text you.

      antidepressooos

      bishop 5'6" but he tryna

      be big news.

      .

      tryna get big so you

      cannot forget me

      honey your love is a

      xanny it's deadly

      how'm i supposed to

      forget about kelly

      or bout all of those nights

      that you called me, unsteady

      wish i loved you correctly

      shit got unsteady

      i was just tryna get

      us a few pennies

      put you in a bentley

      put you in the fendi

      wasn't rich enough so

      you got all offended

      on the offensive

      antidepressents

      fuck that bullshit

      it just makes me sedated

      .

      dont wanna feel shit

      if i cant feel you

      prayin that you'll text me

      "let me heal you"

      you got 50 shades of grey

      i can see through

      but somehow still

      made me believe you

      ignroed all the red flags

      so i could keep you

      mistook for an angel

      whenever i'd see you

      but now you a model

      you said "i don need you"

      looking for a camera

      you can show your tits to

      then the devil approached me.

      said "i can guarantee you."

      .

      so i went to the sea

      heard a voice, "take a knee"

      so i nodded, agreed

      and he said "you will serve me -

      Boy listen closely

      each one of your dreams

      surrender control to

      you want the money,

      someone to devote to,

      4-k square foot house

      to go home to.

      this, i can construe

      if you submit to

      living your life, all despite

      where you'll go to.

      i now control you

      your soul - i have claim to

      but think of all the things

      that my hands can bring you.

      so i bowed on my knees -

      now this man, i submit to.

      .

      ave satani

      i give you my body

      my soul, it was drawn, he

      took it, made a copy

      forgot about mommy

      woke up smelling coffee

      looked in the mirror

      did not hate my body

      the sky was all foggy

      and greyed-out, but oddly

      i liked it enough to

      not waste the day nodding

      or off of the molly

      or in my room rocking

      with her voice talking

      .

      ave satani

      the blood and the body

      the dark it is calling

      and i find it calming

      it's sated the longing

      lil bishop's evolving

      let's go to the graveyard

      i feel like walking

      and talking

      and nodding


      inspo tracks: peep this shit

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w--D1S8SrCQ

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Ff0bq_ydEQ

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y17IQ96Zzjk

      8 votes
    17. la dernière fois qu'elle m'a chanté

      i headed home from the store last night hair kinda fucked up red in my eyes stared at the road not a car in sight looked up at the sky sunset looked nice drinks in the seat drugs on the mind...

      i headed home from
      the store last night
      hair kinda fucked up
      red in my eyes
      stared at the road
      not a car in sight
      looked up at the sky
      sunset looked nice

      drinks in the seat
      drugs on the mind
      looking for a way to
      go numb for the night
      then the clouds came down
      sent a fog up high
      couldn't see ahead
      something didn't feel right

      i was five minutes out
      so i pressed on home
      accompanied by another
      feeling of alone
      turned on the radio
      put down my phone
      tried to shake the nerves
      with a half-good song

      pressed on the gas
      and the fog pressed low
      saw something flickering
      with shape unknown
      it was just dead ahead
      then a mile up the road
      then i came to a halt
      from my seat i was thrown.

      --

      front-end smashed,
      not a soul was around
      i called out for help
      but nobody heard a sound
      i crawled to my car
      and i looked all around
      then i looked up to god
      and the rain came down

      then my radio sang,
      and i turned my head 'round
      reached for the volume
      my hand knocked out
      heard a voice, "listen close"
      as my back hit the ground
      then the radio spoke,
      in my head, heard it shout


      i awoke in my bed
      with no pain in my neck
      rushed out to my car
      no sign of a wreck
      didn't know the day or
      the time, had to check
      8am again, the crash
      didn't happen yet.

      i tried to think back
      memories on a thread
      but something stood out
      ever clear in my head,
      the song that i heard
      with the words i can't forget
      had to write em all down
      i ran back to my desk


      i rushed the words down,
      i almost felt myself mad.
      the song made me miss
      a love i never even had
      that's when it clicked,
      i finally understand
      finally took a look
      at the world in my hands

      she was never perfect,
      negatively drove you mad
      all the pain, the hurt,
      anxiety, you felt at her hands
      you remembered all the exits,
      and escapes that you planned
      but you persevered through,
      now she loves another man


      but fuck it, that's good
      she only ever made you hurt
      all the times you felt alone,
      and mistreated by her words
      all the foolish fights she started,
      all the stupid shit she stirred
      look past all the beauty, boy
      abuse, you don't deserve

      it's a big-ass world, boy
      you'll find a better girl
      take a look back for yourself
      and see how things really were
      go on, my son,
      you'll inherit the world
      because the love that you miss,
      you never had back with her.

      9 votes
    18. Creative Process Discussion

      I'd love to hear about how you create your favorite works. Of anything. How did you write your best music? How did you create your favorite character in a story you wrote? Anything of the sort....

      I'd love to hear about how you create your favorite works. Of anything. How did you write your best music? How did you create your favorite character in a story you wrote? Anything of the sort.

      I'd love to hear all the different processes people have. It's really quite an interesting topic of discussion, for me.

      Personally, I grab a cup of coffee and listen to instrumental music (mostly avant-garde jazz [Coltrane, Washington, etc]) while creating the world of the story I'm writing. There's something very productive-feeling about being wired on caffeine while also having a constant noise in your ears. It's how I compose some of my better characters and settings.

      Due to my constant writer's block phenomenon, sometimes I'll smoke some pot to get past it. It's almost like phasing through a wall you can't jump over. There's something lifting about it.

      16 votes
    19. nil

      I'm rather sleepy, generally very reserved when it comes to sharing my work, and not a native user of English, but I have a couple poems in English, and I though I'd share one here and see what...

      I'm rather sleepy, generally very reserved when it comes to sharing my work, and not a native user of English, but I have a couple poems in English, and I though I'd share one here and see what the folks think of it. I love the challenge of writing stuff in languages other than my native tongue.

      a bird with no wings
      a song no one sings
      a sorrow when time brings
               nil.
      ex nihilo nihil fit
      et words have no wit
      mouth knows only to spit
               nil.
      time is scarse and gods wobble
      in vain hurry naive men hobble
      ignoring they will only nobble
               nil.
      
      12 votes
    20. will.

      apathetic. hardly wanna move, too depressed to drink pathetic. see a demon's hand on your closet door forget it. possession and a hell- bound sentence better than remembrance. my uncle got so...

      apathetic.
      hardly wanna move, too
      depressed to drink
      pathetic.
      see a demon's hand
      on your closet door
      forget it.
      possession and a hell-
      bound sentence better
      than remembrance.
      my uncle got so fucked
      up that he passed, guess
      it's genetic.

      exhausted
      tryna make depression
      beautiful, poetic.
      tired of this dance
      between lethargic,
      apoplectic.
      brain on sober
      tweakin every minute
      schizophrenic. all
      the thoughts i'm
      barely eatin tryna live
      up to aesthetics.

      tired of my fucking
      skin, a serpent's wish
      to shed it.
      i saw all the flags
      drenched in red
      how prophetic.
      baphomet in
      female form, they said
      you'd be angelic.
      my single dying wish
      you'd be a little
      sympathetic

      -.

      don't come
      don't come
      to my funeral.

      don't cry
      don't cry
      at my funeral.

      just know i
      thought you
      were beautiful.

      even with your
      knife at my throat
      beautiful

      .

      where to go
      no one's home,
      honey can i call?

      every day
      feed the night
      it's insatiable

      i never thought
      i'd come to say it
      maybe its your fault.

      i cant believe ive
      come so low to say
      that its your fault.

      -.

      i hope you kiss me,
      hope you hold me,
      when i see you in hell.
      cuddle closely
      and console me
      when i see you in hell.
      girl dont push me
      will he? wont he?
      boy how many pills?
      all his poems,
      magnum opus, testa-
      ment and will.

      if i cant know you
      lay beside you
      then somebody will.
      dont wanna own you
      or control you, you
      do what you will.
      i'll just sit here in
      the cold, alone, and
      write my will.
      bottoms up a
      litre wine a couple
      hands of pills

      3 votes
    21. döner macht schöner aber ich ess nie

      When He broke the third seal, I heard the third living creature saying, “Come.” I looked, and behold, a black horse and he who sat on it had a pair of scales in his hand. a beer in my hand then a...

      When He broke the third seal, I heard the third living creature saying, “Come.” I looked, and behold, a black horse and he who sat on it had a pair of scales in his hand.


      a beer in my hand
      then a piss in a bush
      xans in the bedroom
      geeked off the kush
      half past nine, running dry
      you came thru
      bought an 18 pack
      and we split it in two
      didnt know what we
      were getting up to
      cuddled on the couch, you
      were watching cartoons
      slowly got up, said i
      got something to do
      headed outside, took
      a piss off the roof

      two more shots then i
      broke the seal, looked up
      at the sky saw the devil
      on a black horse
      headed right for me
      flying in a crash course
      spoke into my ear, and
      his voice was all coarse

      his fork-tongued words
      hit my ears like sand
      and he spoke in a language
      that i didn't understand
      my stomach felt tight
      pale white in my hands
      and i went back in at his command

      then i didn't sleep
      for the next three nights
      and i didn't eat shit
      popcorn, white rice
      dancing damning dreams of
      baby looking at me nice
      sugar plums withered to
      a kiss, a hug, and a good night

      -.

      soothe-speaking visions of
      your eyes like a blue quartz
      watching slowly, clouds morph
      devil on a pale horse
      memories in full force
      time has come, no recourse
      white wedding dressed corpse
      wicca phase task force

      -.

      as she spoke, her eyes became green
      stomach butterflies and weak knees
      god has sent an angel for me
      her hands crawled in my chest slowly
      said, "it's your heart which i'm holding"
      gently smiled and exposed her teeth
      then ate it whole, as a wild beast
      a soft call in the distance spoke in peace
      hades
      with arms open lovingly
      and i fell

      mutter-
      seel-
      inallein.
      mutter-
      seel-
      inallein.

      7 votes
    22. I hit the 100 pages milestone for my novel!

      I am super happy right now. For the past few years, I've taken on so many futile projects, dead ends, I've ripped things to shreds because I stopped liking them. Finally though, I am content with...

      I am super happy right now.

      For the past few years, I've taken on so many futile projects, dead ends, I've ripped things to shreds because I stopped liking them. Finally though, I am content with one of my creations and hit 100 pages, already reworked and refined! :)

      Sorry, but I'm super happy at the moment.

      32 votes
    23. Today's the first day of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), is anyone else participating?

      For those that don't know, NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is an annual challenge to write a 50,000 word novel over the course of the month of November. That translates to roughly 1,600...

      For those that don't know, NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is an annual challenge to write a 50,000 word novel over the course of the month of November. That translates to roughly 1,600 words a day. More info on NaNoWriMo here.

      I first tried it two years ago though I fizzled out at around 10,000 words and moved on to another WIP. Last year I didn't formally participate though I made an effort to write something every day. Not sure about my word count.

      This year I'm doing a series of short stories in a shared setting since I've been doing more short form writing as of late and I've been mulling over the idea for a few weeks now. It's a nice way to experiment with different settings and themes within a "singular" work. I've made some notes on plot hooks, settings, characters, and ideas I wanted to explore, so it's only a matter of writing the stories now. Maybe I'll even share excerpts as I go along.

      So has anyone else made plans to do it this year?

      19 votes
    24. what creative projects are you working on?

      feels like we should probably have one of these in here since it doesn't appear we've had one of these as a community in ~creative in awhile--if ever. i've spent the better portion of my day today...

      feels like we should probably have one of these in here since it doesn't appear we've had one of these as a community in ~creative in awhile--if ever.

      i've spent the better portion of my day today working on a census form for the kryfona kingdom, which is one of the many countries in my fairly large worldbuilding effort. the first page actually came out really well, i think, so that was time well spent. i've considered making a post about some of its more intricate detail since i think some people on here might enjoy that, but for now i've opted to just make this general thread since i dunno how well it'd go as a discussion topic. maybe if y'all think it's worthy of one? idk.

      anyways, what creative things have you been working on recently?

      15 votes
    25. missouri blues

      peep the inspo at the bottom i finnally found some shit i lvoe fuggg i hate to post this much because i'm certain my shit gets annoying. i bet there's hella people on here who view my posts as...

      peep the inspo at the bottom

      i finnally found some shit i lvoe


      fuggg i hate to post this much because i'm certain my shit gets annoying. i bet there's hella people on here who view my posts as "fluff" and want it gone but highkey idgaf.

      i know tildes likes to be open to discussion and likes to look deeper into things - ain't my fault i don't get that many comments ¯\(ツ)/¯. i tried writing more secretive and intricate shit people could pick apart if they want, but those weren't received as well as some of my more blunt posts.

      though that one poem i did where i referenced rocky horror did really well.

      i dunno.

      i just hope my shit belongs here 😂 but i guess if i've been allowed to make over thirty posts in the past three months that means i'm in the clear.

      dont be afraid to keep me in check, and dont be afraid to comment on my stuff.

      i invite your questions, your critique, your thoughts in general. i may be fucxed in the head, but i'm an artist above all else (is that true?). if you want to dig into my shit or have any ways i can improve on my work, i'd be so glad to know you have no idea

      i write my stuff to express myself but that does no good if no one's listening lmao so i want to write shit people like. i welcome all feedback.


      anyway i'm ranting again and i'm only tipsy. imma finnish this drink (kuinka voit?), then imma find a beat and ride on some shit.

      y'all know the drill.

      say it with me.

      esskeeetiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit,


      i'm actually crying right now. i found a beat that sounds just like the kind of shit i want to make and everything is just rushing to me. this is insane.

      this is the blues moderna i want to make. i feel like Taj Mahal


      ain't nothing truer in my heart
      than missouri blues
      remember driving through St. Louis
      sitting next to you
      remembering the times you said you loved me
      guess it wasn't true
      told me you'd love me forever
      now i'm feeling all confused.

      baby where'd you go and why'd
      you take my heart away from me
      now i write pathetic songs and
      can't stop thinking pitifully
      wonder if you talk me good
      or speak on me in mimicry
      i can't stop hating myself
      and looking at me critically

      mirrors are the worst friend
      a man could ever have
      when a pretty blonde girl went
      and tore his heart in half
      when he's sure he's lived the best
      years he'd ever have
      what good is any man, girl,
      without his better half?

      take me to the delta where
      a man can sing in peace
      laughing at me, drunk
      when i'm just tryna find relief
      can't afford the therapy,
      for shit you did to me
      i'd let you take my life if
      you just killed me in your sheets

      (chorus)

      baby please
      tell me that you care a-bout me
      promise you don't laugh at me
      tell me that you'll come on close and hold me

      -.

      baby hear me howlin' at your back door
      wonder what you're not talkin to me for
      hoping that you answer and take me home
      take me back before everything went wrong

      take me back to days when i still loved good
      it was us against the world but girl we endured
      our thoughts were caked in sin although our hearts pure
      we got all cuddled close and smoked a backwood

      take me back to days when you still liked me
      and my body wasn't cause for anxiety
      wanna go back to twenty sixteen
      eyes blue, hearts black, minds pristine

      baby hear me howlin' at your back door
      wonder what you're not talkin to me for
      hoping that you answer and take me home
      take me back before everything went wrong

      (chorus)

      baby please
      tell me that you care a-bout me
      promise you don't laugh at me
      tell me that you'll come on close and hold me


      i feel like if i write any more on this one imma ruin it. i don't like that.

      peep the inspo

      (iit's not rap. it's blues. actually peep the inspo)

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J4YPMiFaPWo (oooooof jesus christ, 1:13!!!!!!)

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-iqTRNUOsFI

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c0_eRVroLqs


      i fucxing hate dallas, i fucxing hate texas.

      8 votes
    26. twenty one grams.

      today's different - or at least, this part of it. a lot of the posts i been making the past couple months have been out of this empty kinda want to write something. as per the usual, i came to...

      today's different -

      or at least, this part of it.

      a lot of the posts i been making the past couple months have been out of this empty kinda want to write something.

      as per the usual, i came to starbucks to work on some shit, but i felt something in my chest, got some inspo, and here we are again lmao.

      fair warning ahead, this is one of my more...idk, "brazen" posts. i dunno, superficial as hell save for one or two bars. enjoy it or not - love you anyways.

      peep the inspo at the bottom

      esskeetit.


      seeing all these people walking
      round arm in arm
      while im sitting in my house in
      the dark - pop bars
      crash cars - cop cars
      hella sirens in the distance
      blood in the moonlight glistens
      bishy getting distant
      what's going on in your
      head causing dissonance?
      what's weighing up with suicide
      in equivalence?
      still hooked on to
      the past in imprisonment?
      keep looking back at
      what you had and you're missing it?

      -.

      fuck that - cut that
      sideswipe - bone crack
      i wouldn't go back
      despite all the flashbacks
      i still got hopes
      want my life back
      i do this shit 'cus
      my soul went bad
      layin in a bed full of
      pressed pills and porn mags
      filling up a pool with
      self-hatred and cognac
      pistol labeled "lovers"
      and the bullet "no contact"
      wanna ski slopes 'til
      my eyes go all black

      -.

      i don't hate that girl
      i hate my self
      don't hate this world
      i hate my self
      spent red candles
      on my shelf
      lost 21 grams when
      i weighed myself

      ave satani
      my fear and my secrets
      my tears and my blood
      my devotion and regrets
      my love and disdain and
      my pain and forgiveness
      these things are my own
      and my self is my weakness
      so bring my destruction
      and make me a demon

      bishop.


      inspo:

      https://youtu.be/ShI6axFfqj4

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2p09lM19FpU

      https://youtu.be/9M1PY4lTY3g

      bonus: https://youtu.be/DxvLc2a6Iao

      9 votes
    27. done

      i think i've stopped writing for myself recently. i've been looking at my writing as "art" instead of self expression. as if things have to have a certain depth, air of mystery, or room for...

      i think i've stopped writing for myself recently.

      i've been looking at my writing as "art" instead of self expression.

      as if things have to have a certain depth, air of mystery, or room for interpretation in order for them to be valid.

      i'm getting wine drunk and writing for me tonight.

      this is a poem about love, drugs, and crashing cars. that's all.

      tildes suggestion: ability to hide the amt of votes on a post.

      "The wise man will live as long as he ought, not as long as he can."

      • Seneca the younger

      turned into a wino
      'least im still alive tho
      90 on the highway
      drive into the signpost
      fuckin on the yayo
      stoic like im cato
      i loved you to the nines
      and you fucxed me over tenfold

      choked me til my eyes closed
      baby got a blindfold
      didn't think youd hurt me
      gave you all the control
      used to be my handhold,
      only wanted billfolds
      tonight im gettin fucked up,
      baby, where'd my gun go?

      -.

      used to be so cute
      starin at your rosy cheeks
      now i'm kissin on the
      wine glass to the left of me
      broken mirror shows the
      shattered pieces of what's left of me
      i dont even hate you
      but baby, i am dead to me

      -.


      i recommend listening to this song before you jump into this next part if youre going to read it. i borrow the flow here

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bmFkCNvfojg

      plus, it's a damn good song.


      hope he treats you well,
      i'll see you in hell
      wonder if you hate him,
      wonder if you yell
      wonder if you stress him
      til his troubles swell
      wonder if you make him
      hide inside his shell

      wonder if his money
      towers high enough
      if you ever got a
      lexus to feel good enough
      if you ever make him
      dinner when his day was rough
      if you ever drop your
      bullshit and just show him love.

      all i ever needed
      was a cuddlebug
      i swear i tried
      my hardest, never good enough
      tried to build a home
      tried to show you love.
      i was never good enough.

      all the screaming, all
      the fighting i got used to.
      just wanted you to smile
      cus deep down i really missed you
      all it ever came to
      was lies and "i hate you"s
      i can still hear it
      "you look like i abused you."

      i felt my eyes going
      wide, i was never fine.
      dreaming 'bout a better
      life almost all the time
      'bout a day when we
      were married, i could call you mine (&&)
      had a home in missouri
      everything was right

      but any time i tried to
      love you, you pushed me away
      any time i tried to
      hold you, told me "go away"
      tried to build a better life for
      us every day
      then i guess you got your
      lexus, made your getaway

      claiming that you love me (this block isnt mine)
      but you don't mean shit,
      claiming that you had me
      but you never did,
      claiming that you love me
      but you don't mean shit,
      claiming that you had me
      but you never did

      pushed me to the side,
      made me fade away.
      vision fadin' black
      i wont be okay
      im stuck on this shit
      each and every day
      if i kill myself,
      the dreams will go away.

      11 votes
    28. Inktober

      So once a year artists all over the internet settle down and attempt Inktober, where we abandon our digital tools and attempt to put out paper-and-ink drawings once a day for the full month of...

      So once a year artists all over the internet settle down and attempt Inktober, where we abandon our digital tools and attempt to put out paper-and-ink drawings once a day for the full month of October! There's "official" prompt sheets and the like, but a lot of us focus on just getting the art made rather than going by a list of ideas to draw.

      I never make it the full month, but we're three days in now and I'm currently 3 for 3!

      Anyone else taking part? I'd love to see what you've made!

      21 votes
    29. i like it when friends come over to visit.

      sup everyone! catchin a vibe today, had a few joji tracks on repeat so i thought i'd build something out of his style/flow. voici. inspo: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulMHhPHYCi0...

      sup everyone! catchin a vibe today, had a few joji tracks on repeat so i thought i'd build something out of his style/flow.

      voici.

      inspo:

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulMHhPHYCi0
      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bmFkCNvfojg
      https://tashacho.artstation.com/projects/EQ4on

      doors creaking at the riverside
      subtle fog besets an autumn night
      white dresses in the lower tide
      northern star hangs high

      catches my eye
      closing in on all sides
      belt of Orion,
      branch unified
      eighth night, knocking coincides
      groaning on the other side
      doors among the trees
      shaking hands you start to climb

      -.

      you've see the stars before
      and they always keep their shape
      one shoots down,
      angel fell from grace
      all of their alignments,
      a familiar face
      didn't want to come back to this place.

      you liked things as they were
      and you prefer a cityscape
      slugging through your life
      with your eyes ever agape
      toeing through the words
      and your hands began to shake
      she said "you look like i abused you heaven's sake"

      looked to the sky so many times
      that i've mapped the stars out
      screamed so many times now
      only whispers come out
      water from the river Styx
      a seed began to sprout
      it's the tree atop from which i'm looking out.

      -.

      doors creaking at the riverside
      subtle fog besets an autumn night
      white dresses in the lower tide
      northern star hangs high

      catches my eye
      closing in on all sides
      belt of Orion,
      branch unified
      eighth night, knocking coincides
      groaning on the other side
      doors among the trees
      shaking hands you start to climb

      bishop.

      4 votes
    30. NaNoWriMo Starts Next Week! Who's Participating?

      This will be my third attempt over the last 5 years but it'll also be the first time I have real time to dedicate to actually doing this. I'm really, really excited. I have a Chromebook now so...

      This will be my third attempt over the last 5 years but it'll also be the first time I have real time to dedicate to actually doing this. I'm really, really excited.

      I have a Chromebook now so I'll likely be writing primarily on Google Docs. What are your writing plans? By hand? Scrivener?

      20 votes
    31. a few poems

      i'm slightly bored and ~creative hasn't had a lot of posts recently so i guess i'll toss some of my lot in here. here's some of the mediocre stuff i pen up more or less without editing in my off...

      i'm slightly bored and ~creative hasn't had a lot of posts recently so i guess i'll toss some of my lot in here. here's some of the mediocre stuff i pen up more or less without editing in my off time. i have plenty more of these, but most of them require so much context that it'd be a pain in the dick to post them, so they're not likely to see daylight here any time soon. anyways

      (note: now hopefully with less formatting fuck ups, lol.)


      quick, general scribbles

      scribble, scribble [unfinished]

      No, you don’t matter—
      you don’t matter, matter, matter…
      like a symphony of voices in
      the night, their uproarious cacophony
      of noise inescapable,
      rumbles—shaking. No sleep
      to be found, no—you don’t matter…
      Sleep is impossible, escape is…
      impossible. Draw your mental curtains
      in every window and bolt every lock shut—
      shut in… shut in with the noise, no you
      don’t matter, matter, matter—
      Why do you shut yourself in? Why
      do you shut yourself inside if you matter?
      The voices tremble with fury—but peaceful
      they are compared to the noise, echoing, booming—
      If you did matter you wouldn’t hide!
      You wouldn’t refuse to face the music, oh
      if you mattered you’d admit that you’re crazy.
      If you mattered the voices wouldn’t be. The
      thoughts wouldn’t be. They wouldn’t be, no—
      you don’t matter, matter, matter…
      some symphony of voices the voices can be—
      rattle like a rattle, regurgitating the same sound—
      endlessly, on loop. Never enough to deafen the
      thoughts, the thoughts never enough to silence
      the voices. If you mattered you’d be free
      of the voices, you see. Just another crazy
      person you are. All alone, you and me...

      Bor · der · line

      Always, when meeting, be skeptical.
      Be cynical, so when the deal falls through
      you can pretend you never wanted
      what was offered to you in the first place.
      Pretend it doesn’t hurt every time
      to tear everything down from day one when
      you know it’s irrational action—
      when you know if you could just be “normal”…
      Go through the process a hundred times
      over, stay up every night thinking
      why it has to always be this way
      and why you’re like this, why you’re so crazy—
      never change, always an amorphous
      blob of a person, never able to
      fit into anything, to be what
      you truly want to be, deep down. Normal.
      Such is the life of an internet
      vagabond—a sacrifice to the great
      altar of the untreated mental
      illness—crucified by their loneliness.


      some stuff for my grand worldbuilding

      Time (1921) // by Donas Beyten-Aytek

      A dragon always cares for time,
      for often he knows that it does rhyme.
      And always grows up with the fable,
      of the dragon that was able.
      For ‘once in time’ a dragon ruled,
      and ‘once in time’ that dragon fooled.
      So ‘once in time’ that dragon lied,
      and ‘once in time’ that dragon died.
      And now a dragon lives with fears
      of the changes time endears,
      and hopes that time will one day cease
      and leave his life alone in peace.
      But no more is it ‘a’ dragon alone,
      instead it is all which to fear is prone.
      In face of time, no dragon is steady.
      In face of eternity, no dragon is ready.

      Dragons will not hail to a tyrant (1981) // by Tadin Aledi Geren

      Dragons will not hail to a tyrant—
      that much must be made clear
      and shouted for the world to hear.
      For a dragon enslaved and martyred—
      on the altar of Bira, their blood spilled—
      can never by any man be killed.
      Yet dragons long have been enslaved—
      by despot, by tyrant, by foreign power—
      and it seems always the dragon should cower.
      But soon, one day soon, the dragon
      will rise from their ashes, from their grave
      and find a dragon world to save.

      Revolution (2009) // by Nesye Kalane-Aiselain

      Revolution means nothing
      if you don’t act.
      If you don’t let the hillsides ring
      with upstart revolutionary zeal
      you are no true revolutionary—
      you are no better than a tyrant king!
      You can’t be a revolutionary
      if you never let the proletarians sing.

      6 votes