“You’ve done more in 29 years than most people manage in 3 lifetimes.”
-Megan Jones, Editor, Perceptions Magazine, Mount Hood Community College
It starts at 6 a.m. with the alarms that wake us up.
Then the television goes on for the news, because so much has probably changed in the four or five hours that, maybe, I’ve been asleep. The coffee maker gurgles and burps in the background. The toaster pops and the skillet sizzles. The child groans and complains in an effort to resist getting out of bed, once she is up, fed, and dressed, I exchange a brief goodbye with my wife I open the door with a creak. I walk to the car, my daughter in front of me, shuffling her feet across the pavement.
The car rumbles to a start, the heater roars as it blows the still cold air the vents. My daughter asks me to listen to the radio so I tap my phone to life and turn on the app to bring up her favorite…
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thanks for peeping if you do.
I am creating my brands first magazine all about art and I am looking for artists that are still trying to get their name out.
I am picking artists that I think are very talented and have potential.
I was hoping to release this by May but things went slower than expected so it’ll take longer.
I am looking for 13-15 artists in total. If I can get more, that would be better !
The magazine is simply an art and design magazine, people around showcasing their art, talking about themselves and telling you what art is all about to them.
I will go all out on this, I plan on promoting it when it’s ready to be sold. I’ll promote on facebook, YouTube, deviantart, ill even go to shops I know to help promote. I’m definitely gonna go all out with this. I really want this to be a…
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Crossed out text
Wavy dream syncopated
Self-reliance failed coincidental
Presentation of an un-fulfilled
Goal self-resentment delivery
Of the “fuck me!” energy
And thoughts carried into
My dreams that I am awoken from
Unintended sleep when I needed
To be taking my garbage out
For the last time.
I’m doing well
I know the scene made it anything
But that it to seem
I would rather have bad dreams
Than to be living them
I fucked up this morning
Its nothing like that to him
I saw his eyes
I heard the tone of his voice
Resentment and frustration
And I can’t blame him
With my constantly dim
Lit mistakes and messages
Unclear platforms on they’re given.
I have such a grip
On making my trip
A fall heard around the world
Talents neglect late night needy calls
A love lost
Unable to forget
Meant to distance yourself
I know that
I know now how
Painful it must be
To turn your back on
The skeleton key
In ink next door handed a fifty
To a man who to gently engrave
Onto my forearm (you have the key hole on your inner wrist)
And stood in a storm outside your building
Yelling your name my arm stuck in the air in the rain
As if John Cusack in “Say Anything…”
Peter Frampton boombox hands
Molded love into a public display
That now makes a wish a live within
That I had been born gay.
It would not be almost a decade ago.
Still recovering from that blow.
Pathetique Concrete- ‘least I know
That life is not a thing to blow,
And that you won’t know
Until you know
That you never had.
A poem is the reason why the song that blared out of the boombox that John Cusack had, driven mad by being in love which we now have to do science says to truly be so and that just makes it more beautiful. Fuck yeah.