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5 postcards from nowhere:postcard 1:

somewhere between here and
there i realised: good things don't
happen because of 52. they happen
because we let them.

postcard 2:

and baby i'm afraid of a lot of things.

like the way your fingers read my skin like
braille in the dark. and i may not have any more
secrets left that way.

postcard 3:

but you still like to explore every corner of
my spine.

postcard 4:

i have a drawer full of foxgloves and a
sandpit of forget-me-nots. i

love your stretching tree-branch arms.

postcard 5:

you are magic, you are magic, i say. and i am
lost in the ocean of your eyes.

the places we gohe wrote to me:

that he sits in the gutter and he
looks up at my window and he is
there and he is not and we're
okay and we are

not.

he wrote to me:

your silence is not enough. and i
think your feet caught the dust as
you walked away. and i think my
mouth was filled with dust
as you walked away. and i couldn't
say wait and i

let you down again and. you just
walked away.

he wrote to me:

learn the meaning of wait. and tell
it to me. sometimes the flies belong
in the kitchen and sometimes i forget to feed
the cats and sometimes i

forget to lock the
front door and close the windows

when it starts to rain.

he wrote to me:

w

reminders i carry in my hand:dear me,

you do not have a terrible heart. you do not
have sad eyes and love is not a war you need
to win. sometimes i feel like disappearing, but
remember:

we are never really alone.

dear me,

every now and then, you can close your eyes
and still find your way. remember to breathe
because you did not sink a paper boat and you
are not floating underwater. you already know
the answer to the question you are looking for.

dear me,

remember the small things, like the writing in
the borders of pages. see the things that
everyone else misses. listen to your thoughts
and then lose yourself.

dear me,

laugh until it makes you cry. see

no reply.6:33pm:

i deleted you from my
phone. so goodbye.
[i wont miss you]

7:00pm:

no reply. because my
silence speaks more than
words ever could.
[even though you never
thought so]

1:02am:

remember that time we
were tangled and drowning
so far in our own
thoughts and love?
[i cried]

2:15am:

no reply. because i
know you remember.
[but you're not smiling
anymore]

4:20am:

i left something outside
your door.
[its your heart in
the shape of a book]

4:22am:

no reply. i ran outside
in shorts and socks
to grab it before
it froze.
[at least you took care of it]

5:30am:

no reply. you always thought
i looked beautiful.
[but i

lemon cakethis house isn't made out of
a mess. this house is
made out of:

a sinking bathroom floor
because she sighs and i

lose count. shower curtains
you need to water and rust
that doesn't wash out

of the tiles.

it is made out of:

a telephone made for hanging
up because she doesn't
want to talk to her sister.

and mirrors to remind you
that

you are a beautiful

broken

thing.

it is made out of:

sorry notes and scribbles and
a windy day. it sits next to
the other houses made of

secrets and sorrow and stories
and rooftops and bathroom
tiles.

it is made out of:

kitchen tiles, too. they are
black and white and white and
black.

not what you wantedi wanted to tell you about
yesterday. and how i saw
a shooting star and a face
on the moon that reminds
me of my grandfather.

i wanted to tell you how
i fell on the grass at
sunset and it was poetically
beautiful. but you'd
only tell me that i was
beautiful and then let the wind
blow away what my eyes see.

i wish you loved looking
up at the fragments of
rocks scattered across
the sky. or loved to watch the
clouds go past for twelve hours
straight, but you'd get
bored after two.

i wish i had asked you
what your favourite number
is and what colour your
toothbrush was. my number
is 52. and now you can think
of me every ti

i was thinking maybe..October 10:
I tried calling her today, but
the phone was left for seven
rings too long. She
doesn't like, she is afraid of

dialing numbers and jewellery and
the sound of bugs flying too
close to her ear.

She probably would have laughed
at the thought of dreaming the
day away. Because she can't stop.

She can't stop to meet me at
the rooftops. To meet me and
hold my hand. To meet me and
watch the sky move sideways.

October 16:
Today I called him, to say, to
say that I wanted to drown,
not in sorrows or swimming pools, but in
the ocean, because it's so peaceful

down there. Only I didn't. I
didn't breathe. Or speak. I
didn't

look at the clouds todaywhen i met you, i stopped writing. i also stopped waking up to a face full of post it notes saying things like its bad luck to see the woman before the driving test, or my house smells like apple cider and bluebottles have eyes, or i've got static in my arms. i stopped feeling sorry and i stopped falling down the stairs. i noticed the stars at night could have a story and you could have taken the ocean and put it in your eyes. i also stopped writing.

when i met you, i stopped trying to be a nice person and just was. when i met you, i discovered post it notes and then i couldn't use them. i realised my house was not just a picture of a house

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some thoughts from yesterday

by ~vampire-zombie, Jan 23, 2013, 5:16:51 PM
Journals / Personal

i've always been a lover of the ugly pretty. i don't mind shooting in harsh sunlight or when my model is looking the other way or has a tangled mess of hair on her face. my camera clicks when someone takes a deep breath in or are tying their shoelaces on the side of the road. this year i want to shoot that more than ever. i want to shoot knees with bruises and hands rubbing tired eyes with dirt underneath plain fingernails. i want to run around barefoot in the forest with the wild bird i am taking pictures of in the few minutes of blue light after the sun sets and before the night sets in. i want to shoot designer clothing in the ocean and climb trees in dresses. i want to breathe life into my photography like it breathes life into me.

17 Comments

some thoughts from yesterdayby ~vampire-zombie

Journals / Personal

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~sourtonguetattoo Jan 28, 2013

I cannot wait to see what you come up with! Beautifully written!

*fotomademoiselle Jan 25, 2013 Student Photographer

See, I want to shoot what you've been shooting- people bending down to tie their shoelaces. The every day thing. But I get afraid. I've got a nice camera, and enough abilities to take a decent picture, but I chicken out. I worry "What will he/she think if I am seen taking their picture? What if people get mad at me?" And that's really stupid, because it's not illegal. How do you get over that sort of thing? What drives you to just take pictures out in the open of everyone and everything? *curious*

~Fitzkoraldo Jan 25, 2013

I get it. You're talking about keeping it real. Love it.

~vampRaziel Jan 24, 2013

Well written. I can completely understand...
but, truth is not ugly pretty ,))

//* Fever Ray - When I grow up _

~haannaah-the-cupcake Jan 24, 2013

Post all of it!

it sounds amazing

~BriaFityfiritty Jan 24, 2013 Student Photographer

really lovely ideas, beautifully said. i want to see them soon.

~soulofflowers Jan 24, 2013 Hobbyist Photographer

Lovely and genuine thought! Please fulfil these dreams, they will look wonderfull captured in the magic box of the camera

~andreea-oana Jan 24, 2013

I feel exactly the same

~paulin546 Jan 23, 2013 Hobbyist Photographer

Sa fait de bonne photos car tes photos sont super .

~NonsenseQueen Jan 23, 2013 Student Writer

This is why you are my favorite photographer. You capture and understand the beauty of life. Not just the cliche beautiful moments but those in our every day lives!

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some thoughts from yesterday

some thoughts from yesterdayby ~vampire-zombie

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