benedictsmith
But that was humanity. That was who we were. We went from bullying in the playground to rape and murder on the street. We splashed out on designer clothes and let children die of dirty water. We enslaved, we lynched, we bombed, we gassed. We slaughtered for land, then destroyed that same land with pollution. We told each other to lose weight and tan and shave and pluck or else they’d die alone. We beat our kids and threatened them with eternal fire every Sunday, in the same churches we pretended to drink God’s blood, because that’s what we were – blood-sucking parasites.

In creating human beings the universe made its greatest error – it became self-aware. And self-awareness comes all too often in tandem with self-destruction.

- Benedict Smith (via chunychuny)

I like to think I’m a little more optimistic about the human condition now. It comes and goes, I suppose.

(via benedictsmith)

We’re in a sad state.

ecrivaindescouleurs
Today, the blood of women coats city streets
Blamed for what a man considered a crime
They found themselves at the end of a gun
The wrong answer on their lips
And tomorrow there will be more
There is always more
Because instead of telling boys they have no rights to a girl
That just because they asked nicely does not make her theirs
Instead of teaching them to do no wrong
We tell girls to cover themselves
Don’t tempt the boys
Be careful how much you drink
Because if you can’t fight back
How will they know you don’t want it
Girls are handed weapons
Whistles, mace, tasers
Boys are handed condoms and sent on their way
We teach the girls to protect themselves
Because “boys will be boys”
Sure, boys will be boys
Boys will be boys
But what about men
Will they be boys too
Will they love her with fists and anger
Until her heart shatters
And her grave is dug
Where does it end
Where is that line that they continue to push
Because boys will be boys
But they don’t ever seem to stop
"The day is coming when they will tell us to just say yes.",—a.v.m. (via wordswordswords130)

Society

psychedelicfeeelings
florderst:

shawnali:

The first time I held a human brain in Anatomy Lab I was completely speechless. I looked at my classmates expecting a similar reaction and they looked back at me confused like…”dude let’s start identifying the structures.” I had to take a step back and let it process…in my hands was someone’s entire life. From start to finish, every memory, every emotion, every bodily control…was right there in my hands. 

I don’t care if people unfollow this is spectacular

florderst:

shawnali:

The first time I held a human brain in Anatomy Lab I was completely speechless. I looked at my classmates expecting a similar reaction and they looked back at me confused like…”dude let’s start identifying the structures.” I had to take a step back and let it process…in my hands was someone’s entire life. From start to finish, every memory, every emotion, every bodily control…was right there in my hands. 

I don’t care if people unfollow this is spectacular

I know that there will come a time
When we’re just too different
When we no longer laugh together
Or cry together
Or wish together

I know that there will come a time
When you are not the one I see in my dreams
When I can no longer be content doing nothing with you all day
When I stop justifying your actions

I know that there will come a time
When I have to take down our pictures
When I have to return your clothes
When I have to forget your scent

I know that there will come a time
When I can no longer say “I love you.”

Don’t make that time now

Darkness

I can only write poetry in darkness.

At night or in the wee hours of the morning when the sun’s rays haven’t mustered the strength to peak over the hills.

You are not like the sun’s rays my friend.

You come out at night, whispering into my ear with your slippery tongue. Pulling my strings like a puppeteer until I nearly give in.

You molest my thoughts until all I can feel is you and your faultless blue eyes puncturing my skin like a hypodermic syringe of loneliness.

I can only write poetry when you’re coursing through my blood stream.

Turning my fevered blood ice cold.

Stopping it in it’s tracks.

You are my muse, but you are my infection.

My drug as well as my rehab.

My darkness.

I can only write poetry in darkness.

mimickingmaelstroms

mimickingmaelstroms:

don’t tell me you’d die for me, dear poet. a rotting corpse has no place in my bed. and in your darkest hours, no matter how many times you’ve written me into a thousand suns in dissimilar states of explosion, there’s naught i can do when your hands turn blue.

there’s already myriad stars above…