Birds an Bees

They call it Birds and BEES because at first your heart soars with WINGS, then it gets attacked by STINGS after the break up. 
Here I was, all these years, wondering how birds and bees make sex work.

tumbler and blogging

I dont know the difference. Nor do I think I want to, ignorance is bliss in this case.

had to get it out

Just let me be you insufferable twit I cant think straight. I didnt even love you so why do you keep popping up in my thoughts? You  are the one who believed we'd be an us forever. i knew we'd be over soon. wanting to shoot sunshine into my veins cause the suns up but i cant feel the warmth. this little bit got to be too much, now I'm left picking up old tee shirts that still smell  like you and what i hated before now is precious. I'm a cyborg so why did this override my system? got the virus to give me emotions, just a glitch a technical difficulty that should have been gone by now. its like this ectoskeleton is turning transparent, revealing what I worked so hard to hide.

Typography! Yeah BABY

I recently figured out that one of my favorite ways to doodle is actually an art form! so I researched it a bit and in case you all haven't had the pleasure to be exposed to this ingenious way of getting an idea or concept out in the world here's some examples:

 I like this particular imagery. There's more complicated works like this one:

I just adore the different styles and personalities each piece can have. Go look up some Typography and figure out your favorites.

My favorite dances so far:

Sasha and Alexander- travis wall- contemporary

Sasha and Alexander Im coming Home

Ryan and Ricky

Tommy and Charlie

That's it for now. More to come.

Idiots

While I have a myriad of complaints and stories about this particular breed of human I am going to focus on one branch.

The Cry Baby: This type of Idiot blubbers on and on about problems they can do nothing about. Wasting copious amounts of energy, they could have used in moving forward, they instead sit on their thumbs pinning over the "spilled milk" as it were. Not to seem hurtful but I've learned that it does no good to just sit and wallow in the self pity and doubt that consumes so many useful souls. Get up. Get out. Quit crying. 

When words are all I have left to feel.

When home isn't home
When your life moves around on his own
When one light goes out and another appears
Thats when I know I'm growing up
I am what I am
Beginning to be ok with everyone else not being ok with that
No one steals my sunshine but me.