Salinyay-blog - Bananafish

my mum is coming to paris on tuesday. we haven't seen each other in about a year and a half... i wanna get her flowers for when i pick her up at the airport. which kind of flower is ideal for this situation? which kind of flower shouts thank you for existing, thank you breathing by my side?

You will reach

for a door and suddenly you’ll be out in the wind touching all the

horribly beautiful things. You’ll say this moment is not my enemy and

sometimes you’ll believe it.

— Joshua Jennifer Espinoza, from “What It Takes To Leave A House,” published in Lambda Literary

i am afraid that if i open myself i will not stop pouring. (why do i fear becoming a river. what mountain gave me such shame.)

Jamie Oliveira, “Erosion” (via wordsnquotes)

it goes too fast. 

hi again, tumblr

396 photos merged into one image using the lighten blending mode in photoshop. I think this one pretty much covers the colour spectrum of sunsets, lacking only the darker reds. I can’t get enough of this technique!

edit contact

in a poetic effort to become, i named every contact on my phone after a feeling.

juliette was adventurousness, or that rushy vertigo hiding at the bottom of a whiskey sour.

mom was comfort, or that first breath running through your lungs shortly after skylines have tried to suffocate your throat.

daf was desire, or spattered instincts behind blue doors & scratched backs on wooden floors.

matt was liberation, or flooding open in thoughts, running through cornfields & chasing dreams in heavy storms.

my father was fear, or still shadows in dark alleys; static threats: apparently harmless & silent, but waiting patiently for their queue.

& then there's you, the feeling i've been trying to stick a definition to. a devised attraction, an affection that stirred out of control. my own frankenstein stumbling along the back streets in my head... hunting for an origin; mumbling the name of his maker.

lost in an endless glossary of blurry feelings, i wonder: what's the word for italian euphonies hymned to my ear?

what's the word for stolen kisses & three-days beards?

what's the word for that love we so eagerly hid & then forgot where we put it?

- @skinthepoet

It was just the same long summer, always, and everything lived and grew at its own pace.

Tove Jansson, The Summer Book (via a-quiet-green-agreement)

scientists fear

with a hand on the window frame, you looked out at the night sky. & turning your head toward me, you said there was this theory about the universe being ever e   x      p        a           n             d                i                  n                     g.

that every star, planet, galaxy & blackhole currently alive, is endlessly drifting apart from it all.

as though in their hovering for distance, in their majestic swaying through stellar matter, every atom of the universe claimed independence from our shared existence.  

that same night our last the spellbinding vibes in your beauty & that rant over the cosmos, walked me into a laberynth of oblivion; cause what i forgot to tell you & what you didn’t seem to know, was that there is another theory out there: an antithesis on the dynamics of the universe.

scientists suspect the universe will eventually stop its expansion to begin its c o n t r a c t i o n. exactly as the ball vertically thrown to reach the sky, that at a certain height surrenders to gravity & starts its way down.

scientists fear that every star & planet & galaxy & blackhole will shrink into a single spot in place & time.   a sort of big bang in reverse. outside going in.

boom

which is to say: you fled away from me to smash piece by piece the things we had built. i guess in some shape or form we mimicked the universe by drifting away from each other; by sitting on opposite edges of this galaxy; dodging our own asteroids; breathing distant stardust & riding comets that might never cross paths.  

imagine, just imagine that these scientists’ fear comes true   & all we know to exist begins to compress; will the universe then bring us back to where we were?

a massive clash. gallactic friction.

cosmos to cosmos, blackhole to blackhole, planet to planet, & lips to lips.

hey, this might just be the universe reminding us that       we are destined to collide.

- @skinthepoet

i’ve been spending a lot of time on trains, lately. always between places. always spending more time looking out the window while all this blue blurs into one big blue and i’m somewhere so close to home. this is my entire being wrapped together neatly. there is something inside of me that always wants to be somewhere else. i’ve been writing about this ever since poetry found me, at sixteen, at seventeen, in the dark & buried under a lifetime of existing. // i’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about people who don’t love me, or didn’t know how to love me. all this leaving leaves this feeling inside of me that is unlike loneliness, it’s more than loneliness. and when i’m screaming into the night, i have to remember that the night is only a time of day. that the moon is only a result of collision. that there are people who have stayed. and loved. for years. // and maybe poetry is my way of trying to get to the other side; of saying, i love you but it’s okay if you don’t love me. i know how the universe works. all this love is so beautiful, it’s cruel.