Mjp

no longer aroace guys i fell in love with the girl from ipanema

do you think if yuri was trans he would change his name to yaoi

ziggy played guitar with god given ass or whatever the fuck david bowie said

Dentist confessional. Like, forgive me doctor for I have sinned. I have partaken of the wine. Not only that, but the coffee and the tea. I consume carbonated beverages regularly. I eat sweets such as saltwater taffy and caramels. On the weekend, if I sleep in, I only brush my teeth at night. And then the dentist is like, "and are you flossing, my child?" and they just have to look away

when you find yourself lying,

neither dead nor alive

living, denying

or lack of your try

cry not of the velvet fog

that creeps upon your mind

and do not suffer, do not pry

for pain will be all you will find.

when your life burns beneath you

the life you have not yet lived

and you find yourself alone

with the reaper, having no soul to give

cry not from lack of heart

the heart that you kept, yet never your own

for the grave that lies without your soul

will be covered in your heart of stone.

would u still love me if i metamorphosed into a giant dung beetle overnight

"by gathering the sum of their consequences in the domain of their intelligence, by seizing and noting all their aspects, by outling their universe." what the fuck does that mean you philosophical baguette eater

 In spite of her money

and her evening fur coat

 I did not envy her riches

nor her Brazilian wooded boat.

 I did not envy her dress

at the scarlet evening mass

 nor did I dazzle- upon her watch

and watch the hands tickle pass.

 I did not wish to be greeted

before everyone else, by the host

 nor given fine wine by paid actors

addressing me with titles, worthy of a boast!

 The glowing eyes of those waiters

who wished the be the money they served

 who wished to wear those sharp trimmed suits

instead of handing out hors d'oeuvres.

 I see the moths- the men and girls

that flutter, in dim light

 with their royal, east egg money

those rich red parties, warm summer nights.

 I see blue eyes, I see sinners

we watch them drink away.

 We do not envy their scarlet coats

nor their drunken, wasted days.

come one ! come all !

to morrow night we hear the fall

of child a brethren many in may

of mother of florals cries at pray

to the fiery theater where steam is high

while the malicious spirit shall freely fly

unto a moor upon the sea

the spirit in counting travels free.

solitude of the highest fair

may find its pennies here in there

but in the dome of secret plays

withering ignorance may wonder astray.

partly due to uncounted ballots

sneeking in parties of untimely bandits

burglars of short, plump and mellow

yet filled with teacake; a worthy fellow !

40° today, time to bring out the grandpa sweaters