Found this young man leaning against a tree in Boston Commons, writing in a notebook: “It’s sort of hip hop, sort of poetry,” he said.
I asked him if I could photograph a page.
I pray for peace, I search for love,
I hope you hear me out cuz no one ever does;
we gotta stick together all we got is us;
we can’t stop the negative unless we
spread the peace and love;
Step outside of self, step into the world; notice
how everything we do affects the future boys and girls;
hate crimes happen every damn day;
got my momz scared
my sister can’t go out to play,
because her fear is that some psycho
feels like snatching kids today
all these damn police but people still ain’t feeling safe;
Why does it take a tragedy to bring people
together; we know its bound to happen,
we should try to stay that way forever;
now this is not to say I’m better;
but at a young age I learned that birds fly together;
it’s a survival tactic and I suggest we use it
let’s come together, as we spread the peace
and love music
In the upper right corner, are the names of the first two victims of the bombing. “I wrote them first for inspiration,” he said.
“Fiction is one of the few experiences where loneliness can be both confronted and relieved. Drugs, movies where stuff blows up, loud parties — all these chase away loneliness by making me forget my name’s Dave and I live in a one-by-one box of bone no other party can penetrate or know. Fiction, poetry, music, really deep serious sex, and, in various ways, religion — these are the places (for me) where loneliness is countenanced, stared down, transfigured, treated.”
Art: Alejandro Guijarro
Hunter Hunted | Keep Together
This is what spring will sound like.
These are the months that I’ve chosen to be asleep. These are the months when I stopped liking what I saw in front of me so I decided to change it. Alter the reality, contour it to my liking. I went to sleep because nothing can hurt you there, not even dreams or nightmares. You’re slowly dying and it feels like a warm blanket that’s wrapping itself around you. Do you know how good it feels to trick people into thinking you’re alive? Here I am buying groceries and licking envelopes. Here I am laughing at the appropriate times and asking the right questions but it’s all just an elaborate ruse. I look alive, like a real person, but I’m actually asleep. When are you going to notice it? Poke my skin and the flesh will feel real. Poke the insides though and you’ll see that it’s all dead.
Hustle - Tunng
old sold. new to me. heard it in turntable indie while you work this morning. then went to soundcloud so i could embed in tumblr.