Too Beautiful to Hate, Too Ugly to Love.

Photo

Mon, 20 May 2013 02:10:18 -0700

I am spending more time in honing my skills as a failing artist. I am spending more time reading...

Mon, 20 May 2013 01:53:52 -0700

I am spending more time in honing my skills as a failing artist. I am spending more time reading magazines in an empty workdesk illuminated by a candle or lamplight. I will dedicate time to work with my music. I will work for me. For my love for photography. My love for poetry. My stories. For me.

I think I love her, matter of fact I know I did. I’m...

Mon, 20 May 2013 01:25:00 -0700

I think I love her, matter of fact I know I did.

I’m taking chances and I know this.

And I love that she is wonderful.

She might be the reason that I wrote this.

Holding the pieces of my broken heart,

and I can’t help it, I’m hopeless.

Yes, I need her, she inspires me.

She is the reason that I wrote this.

Photo

Mon, 20 May 2013 00:29:59 -0700

Infinitely yours, by *Nishe

Mon, 20 May 2013 00:24:25 -0700

Infinitely yours, by *Nishe

All rights reserved by knock-kneed and upright

Mon, 20 May 2013 00:20:26 -0700

All rights reserved by knock-kneed and upright

Photo

Mon, 20 May 2013 00:19:02 -0700

Photo

Mon, 20 May 2013 00:18:20 -0700

Photo

Sun, 19 May 2013 23:38:56 -0700

note to f***ing self

Sat, 18 May 2013 20:05:24 -0700

You know this is one less f*** to give, you could make use of it elsewhere

“Smile love, you look stunning when you do.. I’d hate to see you upset, and it would...

Fri, 17 May 2013 21:51:43 -0700

“Smile love, you look stunning when you do.. I’d hate to see you upset, and it would kill me even more if I knew it were caused by me…”

Sasha Grey, Belladonna and Brianna Love by Alberto Mielgo / oil...

Wed, 15 May 2013 21:55:19 -0700

Sasha Grey, Belladonna and Brianna Love by Alberto Mielgo / oil & acrylics / 2010

It ain't hard to tell.

Wed, 15 May 2013 21:37:01 -0700

You sway me so much back and forth that I don’t know whether I should take you back in to me the way how it used to be, or continue to realize that it won’t work out. Hell, maybe it will, maybe it won’t, I am still recuperating my losses after gambling my heart to you, the only way I can tell that you are a day late and a dollar short of how I felt to you, is if you prove me wrong. I admire a fighter. Not a lover versus a fighter type of thing, but just a person to fight for my love whom I’d do likewise for. Perhaps not, I’ve done my part and await a day just to see if you’d do the same, I’ve found a cozy place to live my life, and you are more than welcome to live in it too, then maybe we can start off on the same note for once. What I don’t understand is if I am just being sympathetic that someone like you; that you don’t deserve to be treated like a friend, feel so shut out, even though I am doing it to you, but ever since I got comfortable seeing your face in a different way, not in a trembling state where intimidation would come day to day, slow jam immunity came, musiq soulchild marques houston singing beautifully, underground hip hop love songs I’d love to share, reserved only for you and me, waking up in fantasies oh way more graciously. Know one thing though, regardless, I still love you. You just don’t realize it. It’s complicated and I complicate things that complicate me, which tend to things or people I compliment, but don’t know how to handle it accordingly. I just fell out of love, waiting to be caught, whom I see someone else waiting for the right chance to strike my heart if she ever does. I’m still sleeping on my years trying to strike gold, but no. It takes more than mining and minding me, more than the past of mind games, just be straight up, I know it ain’t that easy, but risk it all for once. I know I messed it all up because I did so once, but that is me, not synchronized to how people see a perfect beginning to something beautiful. I mix it up, I try my best to be different in a way that makes me. And just to see, if you really do feel me, prove me wrong. I’m all ears and even more heart. Take a chance, even if it means messing things up. Break a leg, break a heart, break mine instead, make my world fall apart. I dare you. Prove me wrong. I’d be sure to love you even moreso.

“…Look backwards, so much that we cherish or hate it, we remember it. We tend to lose...

Mon, 13 May 2013 21:26:19 -0700

“…Look backwards, so much that we cherish or hate it, we remember it. We tend to lose track how we are moving forward, looking backwards, and we stomp on the flowers we hypocritically tell others to stop and smell. Colors. Tainted by the (Soles/Souls) of our imperfect (Feet/Feats), our imperfect beings. Fluttering images mimic our past, as the essence of it escapes our very grasp. We try so hard to catch them all, hopelessly attempting to soak in what we can as it all flashes like a bulb flickering in a dark isolated room. We lie to ourselves that being that reclusive is a boon to be used in the real world, where in actuality, it’s sometimes a self harming tool dialing death and to tell him to come soon. Luckily having years to live before he answers, got many appointments to make, as our futile escapes are inevitably leading us to the circle that we are bound by. Breaking news, when I met you, I seemed to lose the dial tone I used to dial death with. And I find it kind of funny to see that whatever I do, pertains to either my desire for you. Where are you? Oh well…”

Another snippet of last years recordings.. Unrefined and virgin pure, like the silkiness of your skin back then, to how I saw you earlier this day. Oh the joys words can do.

Log in log off log. log in log in log off log. log. log.. The horrible feeling. Oh that was last...

Mon, 13 May 2013 21:15:21 -0700

Log in

log off

log.

log in

log in

log off

log.

log.

log..

The horrible feeling.

Oh that was last year..

Photo

Mon, 13 May 2013 21:04:55 -0700

Photo

Mon, 13 May 2013 21:04:47 -0700

Childrenhood.

Mon, 13 May 2013 20:13:33 -0700

Childrenhood.

My game.

Sat, 11 May 2013 20:30:10 -0700

My game.

Photo

Sat, 11 May 2013 19:51:50 -0700