What's the point of having this tumblr?/ Who are you hoping will see this?/ If she's gone, she's gone/ Unless she's there and you can't see what you have?/
No point; good point; might as well shut it down at this point./ Not sure anymore — it’s hard to look back two years and reason with myself./
Alright, good effort. You invest too much thought into these anon Asks to be a rando, but that doesn’t mean your probing is welcome. My response is that my eyes are front and forward, the people who I care about and love know so, and I’m happy with the way things have turned out.
I’ll be deleting this soon enough, don’t you worry.The Yahoo takeover did it no favors and I have no intention of continuing any kind of personal narrative through such a public and outdated medium.
Just edgy naiveté drowned in bad taste, that’s all this is. That’s all you should remember it being.
Why do you only submit questions anonymously?
My content is misogynistic?
Alright, hold up.
Yes, it objectifies women.
Even “sexist pig” might’ve hit the mark.
Please dial back on your Big Important Words.
Please (re-)educate yourself on these issues.
This blog has no philosophical or political agendas.
(None that are intentional or imposed, at least.)
That being said, I fully support feminism.
I am a progressive, open-minded straight male.
This blog, again, is not meant to reflect that.
In fact, it does a terrible job of doing so.
I am unaffiliated with these models.
I do not know their intent or inspiration.
I sincerely hope I am not disrespecting their art.
Now, the alternate interpretation.
Antagonism spoils the greatest truths.
In this case, I’m not quite sure what the truth was.
If you know me personally, I’d love to hear you out.
Let’s talk over some coffee.
I’ll buy, and I will happily let you scream at me.
If you don’t: Why?
Swing and a miss.
Chrissakes, Tumblr, get a politically correct grip.
Are you as depressed as you seem?/ When will you realize that it's what's inside that counts?/ Do you have an inside?
At night, in solitude, without distractions, often./ When the people that I care about or receive attention from make similar realizations.*/ I try to keep myself permeable & transparent — at least to principles and truths — but outside dimmer switch, inside toggle switch.
*I am never the catalyst.
(Thanks for making me think.)
It’ll probably be health issues.
It’ll happen when it happens, yeah?
Way I see it…
Knowing glances at the speedometer.
Cloudy-eyed loss of friction.
Highway twisting around my body.
Two-wheel pavement intimacy.
Skid to completion.
Or, you know, surrounded by fam in an old folks’ home.
When I walk into a room/
I do not light it up./
What are you really like?/ Is there no happiness in your eyes?/ Do you follow your own advice?/ Why try so hard?
Absent, tired, awkward, happy, alive./ Read previous./ I try./ If I* don’t, I* die — physically, mentally, socially, spiritually, figuratively, etc.
I’ll make it brief for myself.
I gave a lot of thanks.
I’m happy, now.
We’re all still learning.
I’ve stopped numbering chances.
I breathe a little easier.
I bleed a little more.
I’m warmer to the important ones.
I’m colder about everything else.
People still act like people.
I still act my age.
I still act older.
I am somewhere in-between.
Everything was alright.
Everything is going to be alright.
To another nameless year.
Much love. Much, much love.