you won’t see them often
for wherever the crowd is
they are not.
those odd ones, not many
but from them come
the few good paintings
the few good symphonies
the few good books
and other works.
and from the best of
the strange ones perhaps
nothing.
they are their own
paintings
their own
books
their own
music
their own
work.
sometimes I think
I see them – say
a certain old
man sitting on a
certain bench
in a certain way
or
a quick face
going the other way
in a passing
automobile
or
there’s a certain motion
of the hands
of a bag-boy or a bag-girl
while packing supermarket groceries.
sometimes
it is even somebody
you have been
living with
for some time –
you will notice a
lightning quick
glance never seen
from them before.
sometimes
you will only note
their existance suddenly
in vivid recall
some months
some years
after they are
gone.
I remember
such a one –
he was about
20 years old
drunk at 10 a.m.
staring into a cracked
New Orleans mirror
facing dreaming
against the walls of
the world
where
did I
go?
~Charles Bukowski
Anastasia Trusova on Instagram
I wish to learn the history in your bones.
After every pain, there is relief but some never fade away.
-haru
There is only one victory, and it has someone else's name on it.
~Me
Katerina Marchenko on Etsy
i hate everyone on twitter posting one liner quips about iran right now