Have you ever lost yourself in a kiss? I mean pure psychedelic inebriation. Not just lustful petting but transcendental metamorphosis when you became aware that the greatness of this being was breathing into you. Licking the sides and corners of your mouth, like sealing a thousand fleshy envelopes filled with the essence of your passionate being and then opened by the same mouth and delivered back to you, over and over again - the first kiss of the rest of your life. A kiss that confirms that the universe is aligned, that the world’s greatest resource is love, and maybe even that God is a woman. With or without a belief in God, all kisses are metaphors decipherable by allocations of time, circumstance, and understanding.
Saul Williams (via black-wolves)
You are not your bra size, nor are you the width of your waist, nor are you the slenderness of your calves. You are not your hair color, your skin color, nor are you a shade of lipstick. Your shoe size is of no consequence. You are not defined by the amount of attention you get from males, females, or any combination thereof. You are not the number of sit-ups you can do, nor are you the number of calories in a day. You are not your mustache. You are not the hair on your legs. You are not a little red dress. You are no amalgam of these things. You are the content of your character. You are the ambitions that drive you. You are the goals that you set. You are the things that you laugh at and the words that you say. You are the thoughts you think and the things you wonder. You are beautiful and desirable not for the clique you attend, but for the spark of life within you that compels you to make your life a full and meaningful one. You are beautiful not for the shape of the vessel, but for the volume of the soul it carries.
Unknown (via black-wolves)
Somebody Once Told Me
The world was gonna roll me, but I aint the sharpest tool in the shed.
The way I look at it the sharpest tool is the one that never gets used. I would much rather be the hula hoe, or the flat blade shovel… with the residue of the concrete, the dirt, mud, the dull edge.
Now I know I’m missing the point of the metaphor. Not missing it, just looking passed. The collective has been my point of focus for the passed few weeks, by the collective I’m referring to The community as a whole, western civilized culture. And Basically, I’m sick of it. And I enjoy poking holes in the fabric of society. The mind of the establishment, and the philosophies of the philosophers.
Much Love, Be Different, Respect the Lord
Joe.
The light bulb symbolizes our thoughts and how over-thinking can kill us.
This is actually genius.
i love this
“The light bulb symbolizes our thoughts and how over-thinking can kill us.”
As of late I’ve realized that I am a man of extraordinary overthought, and of course anyone could categorize themselves this way in a moment of reflection. However I’d just like to encourage at least my one follower.
Live, And live well. Beware of the tendency to conform to the counterculture (ironic I know)
But so quickly the counterculture becomes the norm, and it’s revolutionary ideals become the common theme in marijuana infused conversations, hipster coffee shops, and progressive church leadership meetings(toned down of course).
The point is this. Draw your own conclusions, live outside the norm, be like nobody else. Simplicity is freedom.
Much love.
In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;
“But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart.
Stephen Crane (via thedoeandthedear)
