watching all these north korean documentary makes me think one thing. Can they for once get a documentary filmmaker that isn’t an pompous ass who’s only goal is to make a shocking film with no real value. I mean, they enter the country under false pretenses and film all the pain and suffer, leaves the country, put together a half ass documentary with no real point to make other than “look at their living conditions” and it somehow get’s some pretentious award like the cannes or tribeca or whatever. Do these filmmakers realize what they are doing though? Every time they make a film that they “secretly” record and then release it as a scalding criticism of the north korean goverment you know who suffers? not the mainly middle class folks who watches the shitty film, not the arrogant filmmaker chasing his 15 minutes, not the north korean goverment or even out goverment. the people of north korean suffers. Instead of capitlizing on a country misfortune they should be helping the people escape that fate and not encouraging the dirt regime have more reasons to act out and punish their own people
dont you hate those people who talk about society as if all their problems could be blamed on it. every little problem to all the serious defects in themselves. but no this is going to be about society’s beauty. ofcourse you mine idea of beauty will probably differ from you. For me beauty is what every manages to thrive, despite whatever environment they’re in. Like a spider in an warm apartment during the harsh winter or blades of grass growing inbetween the cracks in the ground downtown. I guess I like rooting for the under dog but you can’t blame me like many others we’ve all been there.
It’s all about me now. Fuck you, to hell with her, I don’t fucking care about him.
You want to be cruel? I can be cruel.
You shouldn’t dress diamonds in velvet, like you shouldn’t let the natural beauty of dirty shine.
a held, lit rolled joint is smoking from the tip, wafting into the empty room. making it appears as there’s a transparent ocean in front. The shameless sun radiates through the curtains, Staring at it with a pair of heavy eyelids, hazy with emptiness. dry lips cracked and shriveled up from the lack of moisture. Face, sticky with a layer of greasy that’s accumulated over days but lest you knew better, you’d just think god bestowed this individual with a beautiful glowing face. A musk you mistakenly adore despite it’s sourced at unhygienic practices. His eyes unfocused, unreactive even to your voice. You struggle you get out the first few words without your frantic panic showing through your speech. You beg and you plead for him to return to the home you both shared. You tell this broken figure that the other’s depend on him, and if that’s irrelevant you managed to choke out that he still has to depend on himself. You position yourself beside him, still facing him. You pull up the leg of your jeans as not to stretch it when you kneel beside this man who has given up on everything. You see yourself in his eyes, staring back. He turns his head towards you. his hollow eyes slowly flashes you the remnants of the pain that once was. Crow’s feet began to form at the corners of his eyes as they wince up, reacting to his brain possibly reassembling the memories and replaying them like a song. Then suddenly, his eyes light up, even if for a brief moment you could tell, no you could feel that he recognized you has his eye held onto yours. A quickly spreading sense of hope stirs inside your defeated heart, despite the doctors telling you that he will never be the same. You hold on to those rare moments when you can feel his soul staring back at yours never forgetting the past you shared but remembering the future that was robbed out of hands, How can anyone be happy or kind again? You stand up as his eyes return to the cold lifeless marbles they are. With a quickly paced walk you leave behind Your happiness and your compassion behind. Trapped in that room with your love, sure that once it returns to you, so will everything else.
Imma trade weed for a pill addition
the ugly flower who deserved more
Someday I’ll feel warmth
As we are more maternal, we are by nature more generous. We will always give more than we have to”
giving up right now would be lovely.
but, would that make. everything better?
please, one more second, to fix this all
I mean, an hour before. this. all. falls apart
There once was a man who hated his own skin.
he was never comfortable in it not even when
everyone in the town was complimenting him
on his clear complexion and a healthy glow
so one day he was scratching his skin until
he scratched so hard he broke through the first layer
then came another, then followed another another
till he had a opening as big as his doubts
in the middle of his chest, he crawled out
like a butterfly he was finally free
he floated on confidence and walked in his blood feet
following his footprints, we walk onto a field
his blood soaked stains suddenly flees
into the air and up towards the sky
he was finally free
soaring through the clouds, droplets of red
falls heavenly down showering the rest
of the world who could only stare
Jealous they didn’t have the courage
that came with undressing your warmth
and putting on nothing. creating a future that’s up for you to forge
My room is so clean
I wish it was like this forever
with the morning sun beam
leaking through the curtain’s seam
when night come, it’s empty and still
I’m laying down, eyes closed
mind turning it’s dream mill
I suddenly fall, eyes opened
I look around
My room is messy, filthy and disgusting
mouth dry, head pulses with a pound
I look around, it’s time to get going.
The second biggest failure of my teenage years would this
Maybe it’s the lack of unconditional love that makes you frantic to test people’s limits. everyone has a breaking point, how can you denounce them as not enough when you push them over the edge?
I wish I could wash the blood off my hands.
Her voice’s so cold it burn with pain