A special journal today because this week (that has just begone) already has me on an edge again. The issue here is what is art and who is an artist. The triggers where people telling others they are not, and people bringing themselves down over their own art. Both equally bad and destructive and absolutely counter productive.
Where the first are no artists themselves, because you cant create art without hart, the latter victimize themselves. So let me clear this up for you all. Once and for all, so there is no question left and you will be able to quickly link and inform people who fail themselves or others. The question being:
What is art
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choi
I am the shadow, and I am the light
I am the sunlight, and I am the night
I am the battle, and I am the fighter
I am the water, and I am the fire
I am a raindrop just ready to fall
I am the world, and yet…
No one at all.
Stars made of nightmares and skies made of fears
Hearts made of glass and a home built of tears
Cries made of silence and words made of knives
Dreams of the struggle to simply survive
Souls made of paper and minds made of flames
She is a piece of their loveliest game
No longer can she feel more than disgust
Even a rainbow does turn into dust
Love and shards by GhostOfTheEmptyGrave, literature
Literature
Love and shards
Your warm light
Reaches for my heart
A call for love
A great passion
But you can't touch it
It's broken and darkened
And the sharp shards
Will break your skin
You'll have to wait
While I pick up the pieces
And put them together
So someday loving me will be safe
no, i want the annihilating sweetness by v-espertine, literature
Literature
no, i want the annihilating sweetness
you were right when you said i lack
the nerve to drive my car into the
ocean. i stay out late, the splinters
of our electric city clicking against
my teeth, & come home to the flash
of your whispers flushing my body
with nervous polyrhythms. last night
i found the letter in which i named
your eyes orestes and pylades:
star-crossed & polished & eager to
settle on a cosmic altar where we
trembled as if we were glasses
of water & i've been wandering, i'll
confess, beyond the perimeters of
your damaged skin, beyond the quiet
fluster of your gleaming spine.
i wandered, with vespers foaming at
the brink of my eyelashes, rushing
to co