Artifice, Las Vegas, Nevada
My roommate Keri and I made a random drive to Vegas this past weekend. Instead of sightseeing like the average tourist, some of our local friends showed us what Vegas is REALLY like. We stomped around on Fremont St. (old Vegas) and visited dive bars around the outskirts of The Strip. We did Karaoke and saw Chinatown. Met some great people, saw some ridiculous art, and went to a video game bar. Yeah, maybe we also stopped by Surrender Nightclub at Encore to see Skrillex and Rusko, but let’s not talk about that..
3 days ago • 1 note
Scars on your heart show that you have loved.
At first power, power, then the wound, and love, and love and fears, and the loss of the self, and the gift, and slavery. At first I ruled, loved less; then more, then slavery. Slavery to his image, his odor, the craving, the hunger, the thirst, the obsession.
I’ve become obsessed with writers, most of whom are ironically dead, who expressed onto pages a similar dissatisfaction with the world, who had the same questions burning in their mind about life.. Writers who turned emotions into metaphors that could speak to me on a level no one else could.. I never feel loneliness in its entirety by diving into books. Any chain of words that I can relate with drives me into this illusionary world that separates me from others, those simple minded souls that don’t get the fantastic complexities of passion, of adventure, of questioning authority on the same level.. An excitement is felt so profoundly to know that someone out there at some point felt the same way I do.. Yet, that excitement is so short lived because I have no one, in the flesh, to share myself with in the extent I wish I could. I find myself wandering in bookstores for hours, getting lost in the midst of my ‘friends’, because all the others look at me and never, ever understand.
2 weeks ago • 0 notes
