"Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely."

Edna St. Vincent Millay 

(Source: observando)

I’m still okay.

The photos you send home to let them know that you’re till okay.

A lessons in abandonment (or whatever I kinda don’t care)

Now, let’s begin with a few tricks, okay?
Right, disappearing; let me tell you about it.
The trick to disappearing is a little less difficult. Not much effort is required. Just disappearance. Never appear, ever again. Now this can easily be traced back to yesterday and our recent childhoods. We’ve seen fathers do it. We’ve seen lovers do it. The convicts have done so as well. We remember those birds we instantly grew fond of, singing us from last night’s slumber into a wonderfully aligned new day, we know how we’ve never seen them again since then, how that moment of us trying to get closer actually scared them away. Milk disappears through sand. Something as easy as air! Always disappearing. So I trust you will not have a problem with this.

Let’s get to disappointment.
This is also another easy one to perform. Don’t worry about it. Here you can occupy either side of the phenomenon. You can disappoint or be disappointed. My advice to you; be the less sad one. How you do this can be up to you, but because I think you’re cool and I kinda like you, I will tell you. So the trick to not being disappointed is easy. Never expect anything! There. Now you can go and disappoint people. Great.

Very well. 
Let’s quickly pass through the shit about trust, honesty, loyalty, betrayal and all the crap you’ve been taught and thought to be most important. Now listen, fuck all of that. Just move.

Yes, a lesson in abandonment.
Now when all is said and done. It will be. Complete. Done. You will make homes out of people’s chests, the cobwebs between their eyes will remind you of heaven, the cold in their hands will, at least for that time, be the greatest warmth you will ever come to know. Their emptiness will be enough for you. You will relish all your wounds and loneliness above their shoulders. You will learn to see flowers in the desert of their ugly. You will Love! Empty all your contents into their leaking buckets. You will, for those moments, know what it is to be home, to be clean, important and visible. You will forget all your shame at the touch of their cynical hands. Their glance will be purification, no matter how disengaged it may be. This will happen. It will be nice, enjoy it. Or whatever, it is your life after all.

Now, always remember this; people are that. Just that. Nothing else, though your heart will make angels and saints out of them, allow your mind to remind you. People are just that. Soon you will fall. Soon your head will be below your knees, not so much a bleeding but an open wound needing only a blow of soft air to heal, just that. But they will be gone! The people. They are just that. Derrick says ‘You cannot be abandoned, you can only be released’ True, pity though, but true. So abandonment unlike disappearance is an act that the actor is fully aware of and is done with an aim to destroy something. So you will be abandoned, only you can release yourself. Only you. Because when people abandon you, they have no courtesy of releasing you. It is not an act of mercy, but that of war. Ready your hands for waves, your tongue for quiet and your feet for goodbye. People will become people and you will remain empty if you have released all your little self into their emptiness. Now beware, always save some for yourself. When abandonment arrives, always find a way to return. Always return.

Yours, always hidden.
…back to The Shadows.

"There’s nothing for me to learn from winning.
It is losing that has yielded the unforgettable lessons.
Losing is pregnant with chance.
Victory escorts loss to every dance.
That is harmony harmony harmony."

Derrick Brown

"Imagination is the highest form of research."

Albert Einstein 

(Source: observando)

Zachary Schomburg - Fire Cycle

There are trees and they are on fire. There are hummingbirds and they are on fire. There are graves and they are on fire and the things coming out of the graves are on fire. The house you grew up in is on fire. There is a gigantic trebuchet on fire on the edge of a crater and the crater is on fire. There is a complex system of tunnels deep underneath the surface with only one entrance and one exit and the entire system is filled with fire. There is a wooden cage we’re trapped in, too large to see, and it is on fire. There are jaguars on fire. Wolves. Spiders. Wolf-spiders on fire. If there were people. If our fathers were alive. If we had a daughter. Fire to the edges. Fire in the river beds. Fire between the mattresses of the bed you were born in. Fire in your mother’s belly. There is a little boy wearing a fire shirt holding a baby lamb. There is a little girl in a fire skirt asking if she can ride the baby lamb like a horse. There is you on top of me with thighs of fire while a hot red fog hovers in your hair. There is me on top of you wearing a fire shirt and then pulling the fire shirt over my head and tossing it like a fireball through the fog at a new kind of dinosaur. There are meteorites disintegrating in the atmosphere just a few thousand feet above us and tiny fireballs are falling down around us, pooling around us, forming a kind of fire lake which then forms a kind of fire cloud. There is this feeling I get when I am with you. There is our future house burning like a star on the hill. There is our dark flickering shadow. There is my hand on fire in your hand on fire, my body on fire above your body on fire, our tongues made of ash. We are rocks on a distant and uninhabitable planet. We have our whole life ahead of us.

Ted Mosby as The Calligrapher (HIMYM S9 E14)

…The trick to accuracy is like;
Try to be REALLY accurate
Like REALLY try to aim!
Look where you’re slapping 
And then try to slap THAT spot
instead of some other spot

Well, I guess that’s pretty much it
You can slap people now.

I LOVE IT!!!!!! >.< 


هي لا تحبك، يعجبها مجازك
أنت شاعرها و هذا كل ما في الأمر

She does not love you.
Your metaphors thrill her,
You are her poet
But that’s all there is to it."

Mahmoud Darwish

(Source: inderacinable, via metaphorformetaphor)

The 1st Annual Spoken Freedom Festival is an exciting and energetic showcase of the best youth Spoken Word voices in South Africa. 

Through words, music and visuals, the four day experience will capture audiences imaginations with stories of being young woven with the challenges and the victories of living in a free South Africa 20 years of on. 

The Spoken Freedom Festival also serves as a vivid snap shot of how Poetry and Spoken Word will shape South Africa in the next 20 years. 

The Festival will run from 3 – 6 July 2014 at the Barney Simon Theatre, Market Theatre Complex, Newtown

R50 for each show available at The Market Theatre Box Office and Computicket 

Date: Thursday 3 July 
19:30: Doors Open
20h00: Poetry Video/s 
20h30: Afurakan (MC)
20h45-22h00 Featured Artists- Conelius Jones, Makhafula Vilakazi, Napo Mashiane

Date: Friday 4 July 
19h30 Doors Open
20h00: Poetry Video/s 
20h30: Afurakan (MC)
20h45-22:00 Featured Artists: Vuyelwa Maluleke, Natalia Molebatsi, Mutle Mothibe 

Date: Saturday 5 July 
14h30 Doors Open
15h00: Open Mic Slam
18h00: Afurakan (MC)
18h15 Featured Artists: Elysium Garcia, Vangi Gantsho, Richard Quaz Roodt

Date: Sunday 6 July
15h00 Doors Open
15h30: Poetry Video/s
16h00: Afurakan (MC) 
16h15-18h00 Featured Artists: Tereska Muishond, Masai Dabula, Mandi Poefficient Vundla, Modise Sekgothe

"The first draft is just you telling yourself the story."

Terry Pratchett 


(Source: maxkirin)

"There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another theory which states that this has already happened."

Douglas Adams 

(Source: observando)

"I hugged the walls, famished for shadow."

Samuel Beckett, The Calmative 

I MEAN…???

(Source: robcam-wfu)

"Don’t classify me, read me. I’m a writer, not a genre."

Carlos Fuentes

(Source: maxkirin)



Verrr kud.

(Source: , via designcollector)

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