As you fly in your aeroplane, you look down at the face of our planet and you see how humanity has scarred it; we’ve chiseled roads into its crust; made forests deserts; painted the blue oceans brown and green until you have to convince yourself they’re not massive patches of dirt; turned earth’s natural givens into progress, coal into flame, oil into fuel, wind into energy. And squinting you see the mountains and hills, the only curvature in a view of geometric squares and lines, because even in it’s beauty they are trapped within the confinement of our perfectly straight farm roads. And it appears from this height as if the cars are in a mechanical loop, gliding effortlessly across dusty highways. Houses, skyscrapers, offices; brown, silver, gray. Forests and oceans living in the remaining room on our planet, not yet touched by the hand of industrialization, rather, human life. And as I peer through my double paned window down below, I picture myself, and what it would be like if I was put right on mother earth’s face like dropping the hanging yellow man on Google Maps onto earth’s satellite. And my chest concaves as my hearts quickens as my breath shallows as my eyebrows pinches...because imagining myself in that ‘2D’ realm forces me to believe I am just another creation of humanity, another pawn born to live in it’s creation; to drive on long lines of highways that I cannot exit, to follow the expectation of marriage, to settle in a town which takes up a minor fraction of the world, to do nothing but carry out a routine everyday that consists of wasting time. To effectively escape the physical planet, to be flown out of existence, to be in the perspective of an alien, to look down on our creations and existing format is a dream. One of those dreams that are so relieving and impossible that when you wake up you want to punish your brain for introducing your mind to a new addiction so strong you’ve developed a self-induced torture mechanism. The beautiful thing is, it isn’t a dream, it’s real; in an aeroplane you’ve disappeared off of the face of the earth; your feet don’t touch humanities habitat; your weight does not bruise earth’s outer skin; you have no effect.

You. Are. Not. There. Yet. You. See.

This is a real life example of proof that you can exist when you don’t...

in a walk so arid

and a street so bare

how nice it is to see a figure approaching.

a sillhouette with my same cadence,

singlemindedly traveling

to a destination behind me.

but how much will i love the second

when we brush shoulders

or stare into eachothers eyes

before walking back along

never to see each other again.

i will listen to the jingle of your backpack,

hear clearly the steps of your feet,

look into your eyes,

until our paths swerve away again.

i look up now,

see you closer.

five rowhouses away,

i can almost hear your headphoned music,

see your sparkling eyes.

a few more paces,

we'll be close to the split second

connection.

in our world

of simoutaneous independence,

unsynchronized rhythm...

i crave that human connection.

our second of synchronous

propelling my walk home.

i look up.

within reach, almost.

eyes locked in mine.

almost at our peak,

the houses on the left

and the cars to the right

are fading in my vision.

you, your jingling backpack.

waiting for our full eye contact.

waiting for the singal.

the connection-

and you grasp that hood of yours.

delicatley lift it over your curls,

and not more but,

you lower your eyes.

they are drawn back to your glowing box.

and stay there,

head down.

animated human versions

pulling you closer than the real ones.

i am the perfect victim to your forcefield,

looking away like you wanted.

walking forward again,

thinking

nothing

of you.

i am left looking blankly

at my left,

only seeing the space your eyes could have been.

the space we could have looked

and smiled

or imagined

or touched shoulders.

but no,

i am let down

by my own kind

again.

i'll keep on walking,

waiting

for the next passerby,

i guess/

it's the way my eyes burst

without permission clearly

something's wrong this picture

isn't getting any clearer

i'm still here and they're all

nowhere near rather flying

than the fall i know daily

veins bursting in knees

bruises up to bloodshot irises

always look better against blue

I am modern society. Validate me for I am not myself. I am a collection of likes and reposts. I am a internet board of what’s trending and current. My personality is not genuine, I embrace the parts with the most likes and delete the parts that don’t get enough validation. If you like it, I will be it. Give me validation or I won’t know which parts of myself to showcase and which to hide away. I will work to remove every flaw that keeps me from getting reposts. Success is only measured in my feedback. My sense of style is whatever gets me the most comments regardless of my personal opinion on it. My opinion doesn’t matter. Only yours. I can be comedic, I can be deep, but this is only decided by whichever will get me the most attention today. If you like something, I will embrace it. Likes are more than a number, they tell me what is expected of me. Whatever gets the most likes is who I am today. Validate me, for I have no idea who I even am anymore.

i love you.

and i never thought i would admit that in any form but my thoughts.

i looked in your eyes a while back and have still not escaped their captivation. when i look up and see you, i am looking towards something more than a face. it is a jolt of happiness running through my veins. it is a smile on my face bubbling up from the depths of inside me. it is a mindless look, but it sends waves to my heart onto the shores of my naievety.

my eyes will wait all night and stand in the rain to get a chance to lay eyes on yours. the split second of our connection is the final piece to the circuts of my heart. whether you know it or not, thank you.

given, it is no suprise that you are prominent in my rounds of thoughts. among my schedules, relationships, deadlines, and emotion, your image is there. floating, waiting to dive into my mind with any hint of connection to your being. in the midst of a conversation, with the smallest mention of anything somewhat connecting to my vision of you, the smile bubbles its way back up. my eyes light up again. and its the beach waves, the circuits, and the warmth all over again. you have overriden my perception of love and left me scarred. with memorable, confusing, and beautiful scars. you have left me questioning myself. and although it was tough to internalize at first, i have accepted it.

i am learning to embrace it. i love you. there. i said it again.

you are atractive and admirable. i love your passion for those you care about. and the way you carry yourself. your hair. your style. the way your eyes look when you smile. that time you touched my shoulder a while back. and yet, i am hesitant for much more. the perfect image, the daydreams, and all else of you in my mind has no time now for tarnish. i want to enjoy every second of this.

but let me not further occupy the time of the reader. all i want is yours, really.

really.

with love to spare,

m

The villain...

The effortless manipulation of the innocent story plot, right?

Or rather, that unmistakable tarnish on the heroic centerpiece?

Maybe a refrence to that ringing in the ear of the divine society?

The villain...

the term we’ve coined for our feared opposition, you mean?

Oh. I know she better than the hero shall know glory.

I host one of her kind currently. She is the curb to me honest existence in society.

My villain ponders around my lips.

Rather, at the unexistent, yet ever so necesary, movement of them.

#villainchallenge

#februarychallenge

Mother Earth birthed us all

so that

With our bones

stand the trees

With our blood

flows the rivers

And with the wind

pipes our breath.

Each one of us,

a different land.

Standing together,

stirring alone...

Our melodies crafted

by the birds.

Our growth captivated

by seedlings.

And our very own lives

independent...

but ever so interdependent.

She nurtures us,

day in and day out.

Watches us

working in unsynchronized unison

for much of our own benefit...

but never percieves our instigations

to her own slow departure.

Our lives

her existence.

Interpreted individually

but enacted in harmony.

Intertwined and coexisting

but falling disconected.

We thrive on her presence,

but her abundance,

living on the shallows of our disregard,

is slowly decaying.

May we forever repay her gifts.