Makes No Sense - Blog Posts

whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat nooooo what are you talking about

New REBLOG Game

Just fucking lie about the previous poster

Things in my show that impressed the children

1. Swing pitch to standing in shoulders. This makes sense it looks amazing

2. Carrying a mat in on our heads. Why what is impressive about this

3. The trapeze being lowered in from the roof

4. The German man’s jumpy flipyness

5. Little child’s jumpy flipyness, and his unicycle

6. Finn I don’t get this one

7. Weird song about Australia

8. My headsprings

9. Moving props

10. Big metal wheel things

11. Sweeping up juggling balls

12. Spiderman in a top hat and Elton John glasses in a window talking about going vegan

13. Measuring a stage with a hula hoop

If tumblr could please explain how an artistic nude is “sexually explicit” and gets banned, when I have gifs of dudes jerking off on my feed and that’s fine? SMH 🤦🏻‍♂️

And for the record, yes I tried to appeal their decision to no avail. 

There's mold on these bones,

Vines encircling the limbs.

Flowers are blossoming all around, and yet none get to us.

Mushrooms lay in their absence, creating a crown.

Movement is hollow.

It rains, no drops reaching my lips:

For they fell off when the worms ate them.

Exhaust and wings flapping around entice my numb senses.

I stand for I can't sit. Everything identifiable has rotten off of me, including ligaments and skin.

No one can tell me she's going to come back.

Wind gushes through, yet still unwavered.

A water stream nearby makes barely a noise, too shallow.

Passersby are never the same, blank faces to never be recognized after; home lays within their town.

Begging to go back to what once was,

All I can do is listen to the nearby churches hymns.

I have so much to say,

warn people so then they would avoid the agony I endured.

If only corpses could roam.

Longing

The way my eyes trail you.

You're gorgeous- stunning, ravishing,

in ways that I never knew possible.

The curly frizz that entangles in ones vision,

the black hues that drip from your head.

The lights reflect on cracked glass, yet enabling sight regardless

nonsensical, nothing about this is pieced together

the way you throw your head back as you laugh, then cover your mouth

hiding away crooked smiles, teeth shifted awkwardly

an offense to the saying "a sight for sore eyes",

yet I drink you up like you're water.

I'm a man in the desert oasis, surrounded by everything Ill ever need and want.

And yet I long for the scorching sun that you provided.

It's been eons since I've last seen the light.

Do your eyes linger on me, too? The way my multi-colored hair sits on my shoulders,

I want it cut again, I want to cut again.

The way my shirt travels just a bit up, leaving much to the imagination.

Compared to sunshine, I find myself hollow of light.

I give and I give and I give, but I miss having you take.

The things I'd do to have you in my life again.

You keep your head down, I keep my head up.

Do you sense what I sense, or am I lost in the sea of sand?

Delusional, hallucinatory, craving something that I have an abundance of.

Craving you, in its wake.

I long for your arms around me again.

The warmth, sweetness you provided me.

Faux, artificial, disgusting and allergenic

But sweet regardless.

Do not be mistaken, every display is reflection of who I am

Who I've always wanted to be.

But it would be nice, to share that sincerity with you.

If that's what you longed for.

The little things in life remind me of you the most.

I taste you in my overly expensive pumpkin spice lattes

The soft patters of the rain ring of your calm laughter

Days where we cloudgazed, nights were never truly appreciated

I brush past strangers, scents overwhelm my senses

I cling onto what little I have of you

The limited time we had.

Sometimes I let my mind drift to what ifs

If you weren't concerned with conceited reputations

Looks from passerbys that do not matter

Actions that should've never occured

If I was into men

Letting go of what happened

Truths that echo through the chambers of my mind

Then I wake up from light slumbers and hold your sweater a little tighter

I miss you.

I'm 18 and my dad has dementia

I'm 18 and I'm both the youngest and oldest I've ever been

I'm 18 and I want hug from you

I'm 18. Happy birthday to me. What a joyous world.

I am surrounded in a crowd of people I claim to know, yet I feel so alone

I smile, and nod, and like I care, when really it's been sometime since I really dared

I speak but I don't feel heard

My words come out, but no one listens, deciding to speak to others, even though I've already began

Do I really know these people? Do they really know me?

I feel more at peace away from them, reading and listening to the songs I've come to love

They make me feel corned, trapped when confronted

Yes, we are friends

I will listen

I will hold you

But why is it that you yourself cannot provide me with the simplest thing

Your attention