The Lily Ink Index

Attention

Thu, 11 Apr 2013 22:57:00 -0400

Shhhhh!
The sound emerging from the tiny hole in the can.
The sound that is mixed with vibrant colour…
colour that bursts and explodes as it hits the vertical surface.
Intense angles, weird shapes, abstract shots,
emerging, live messages.
Some wet colour drips, leaks down, while other oranges, yellows, blues, blacks, and greens
seep into the cracks in the brick.
Making the creation that much more permanent and powerful.
As the sun rises, people walk by, cameras flash.
This is not vandalism.
This is a lifestyle, a protest, a mind in colour,
a voice disguised on a wall.
Graffiti is art.

A Poisoned Brain

Fri, 22 Mar 2013 23:20:20 -0400

A brain where which chaos resides,
voices and chemicals romance each other.
Nothing makes sense, but colours are vibrant
and hallucinations vary from faces to alarms, barking dogs and doors closing.
A brain were feelings are mixed with pleasure sounds and scenes.
Exploding bombs paint the walls of your internals,
making them dangerously beautiful.
This rain, so poisonous, if it were put inside a bird,
the poor thing would forever fly backwards.

alexmeech: these are my new motivational mottos.

Thu, 08 Nov 2012 02:01:50 -0500

alexmeech:

these are my new motivational mottos.

Photo

Sat, 14 Jul 2012 00:19:26 -0400

Photo

Tue, 03 Jul 2012 23:16:53 -0400

Photo

Sat, 02 Jun 2012 00:36:01 -0400

rockwriteon: Megan Falley (via loverofstories)

Mon, 14 May 2012 00:00:01 -0400

rockwriteon:

Megan Falley (via loverofstories)

"I need to write more. But I don’t know what"

Sun, 25 Mar 2012 21:11:47 -0400

“I need to write more. But I don’t know what”

Photo

Fri, 23 Mar 2012 23:24:48 -0400

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Fri, 09 Mar 2012 09:07:01 -0500

My Life Compartmentalized

Wed, 29 Feb 2012 23:16:50 -0500

I wish I could compartmentalize my life.

To have boxes and cabinets, containers instead of wallpaper.

To organize and categorize,

boxes or emotions,

drawers of feelings,

big plastic Tupperware containers of dreams.

I want to keep everything in their own sections

for easy access and understandability.

Need a photo? Check the photo bin.

A certain necklace? Pull out the jewelry drawer…while I’m at it,

I’ll reach in the emotions box and pull out glamorous.

Sprinkle some sparkle dust from the craft container and I’m off!

For if I had an entire wall of baskets and boxes,

my life would be ecstatic with organization.

A box for my writing utilities, one for yearbook magazines.

A basket of vinyl records and another for nail polish…

you’d be amazed at how fast I could access a specific

purple pen or the 1986 LIFE yearbook.

Right now I imagine pulling out the drawer and reaching in for a hopeful feeling, that I may one day own a wall of wonders, organized my life compartmentalized.

This is a) my newly decorated bathroom or b) a fun outlet for...

Thu, 16 Feb 2012 23:41:00 -0500

This is a) my newly decorated bathroom or b) a fun outlet for writing. Incase you’re wondering, yes this is washable marker, whiteboard marker actually so it came right off lol I’ve always done a lot of productive thinking while I’m in the shower, stuff I can use for writing and so I thought it would be cool if I could just write it on the walls then wash it off after.

Don’t Fool the Wise

Mon, 05 Dec 2011 23:25:54 -0500

A woman took a trip to talk to a psychic

She wanted to hear about her future,

her past, her consequences and her fortunes.

When she reached the psychic, she asked for her words of insight,

Waiting for them to appear within the cloudy, crystal ball or

lift from the creases in her palms.

With candles lit, and aromas fusing, the psychic said,

‘Leave now and find a building with an elevator and a set of stairs.

Choose one and I’ll meet you at the top.”

The woman thought this unorthodox from a psychic and asked

for the purpose of this. The psychic replied,

“The elevator is faster, less work, in the lovely calm, company of other people, and music in the background. The stairs however are longer, more strenuous, darker, and emptier.”

The woman sifting in her seat uneasily asks for more clarity yet.

‘If you take the elevator, I ill tell you when your last day of life will be. If you choose the stairs, I will tell you about the happiest day of your life.”

The light went out and the aromas dissolved in the air.

The woman walked out and faced a building with both stairs and an elevator.

Would she pick the faster, more pleasant ride to the top to get potentially saddening news?

Or would she exert more energy in double the time to discover the happiness she should be awaiting?

She walked into the building and makes her way down the hall and pushes the button for the elevator.

At the tenth floor she steps out, walks down another hallway, and opens the door to the stairwell,

The building had 12 floors so she decided to walk up the other two,

hoping to outwit the psychic.

When she reaches the top, the psychic meets her there.

The woman ask for her two prophecies, and the psychic answers,

“One day you will jump out of a plane.”

The woman asked if it would be the best day of her life, or if it would be her last day alive?
The psychic vanished into thin air, leaving the woman with no answer,

leaving her with the decision as to how she was going to get back down the 12 floors and leaving her to decide whether or not to get on that plane.

"Poetry involves the mysteries of the irrational perceived through rational words."

Tue, 29 Nov 2011 11:54:40 -0500

“Poetry involves the mysteries of the irrational perceived through rational words.”

- Vladimir Nabokov. (via ramirezdahmerbundy)

mattsbrickgallery: In non LEGO news.

Tue, 08 Nov 2011 13:54:45 -0500

mattsbrickgallery:

In non LEGO news.

Your Whisper

Tue, 01 Nov 2011 23:16:35 -0400

I can see you have something to tell me, or show me?

I can sense it and feel it all over.

Your calm face approaches mine,

with gentle eagerness.

I close my eyes to only feel the physical tension

[as it builds up in her finger tips and toes]

You make your way to my closed eyes

and grace them with a kiss on each

[to set the hot tone that she desired,

the sensual one she longed for.]

you move your craving mouth down to mine

your full lips, wet but wanting…

Our lips now moving seriously together

giving each other exactly what we want.

Tongues now locked and creating vigorous motions,

each and every one sending a searing thrill in my body.

Then you move down

planting the most deep, unforgivably intense kisses on my neck.

My fingers, my hands are trembling

I love how you’re making this feeling last.

I try to open my eyes just to understand what’s going on

But I cant, the exotic thrill is so empowering.

I then get a shock of satisfaction

And I hear you cry out in unbearable pression.

The sensations driving us mad with desire.

Digging my fingers into your back,

and our lips meet and press up against each other again,

back and forth in rhythm.

[she pleaded for more from him, she wanted all of him]

You, eager to please, move back down my

elongated neck, chest, and shoulders.

I know your senses are now awakened, as I move my hands around your entire body.

Both mouths watering, feelings building, rhythm quickening

The atmosphere getting thick, and warm, erotic,

You move your hands down my body

And it trembles, making my toes go numb.

Your warm embrace traps my body, every part of it.

Passionate and thrilling.

I can feel you everywhere. Your touch,

this is your secret, your whisper to me.

loveyourchaos: e.tumblr.com/post/11996019486/the-exclamation-com...

Fri, 28 Oct 2011 08:42:10 -0400

loveyourchaos:

e.tumblr.com/post/11996019486/the-exclamation-comma-just-because-theweekmagazine:

The Exclamation Comma. “Just because you’re excited about something doesn’t mean you have to end the sentence.”

That’s true.

14 Punctuation Marks You Never Knew Existed

I want this to be mine.

Photo

Sun, 09 Oct 2011 16:38:02 -0400

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Thu, 22 Sep 2011 21:04:41 -0400

Unpublished Love

Thu, 14 Jul 2011 23:24:24 -0400

It sucks when you’re not on the same page as the person you’ve been writing a book with.

You met, and a novel began to develop.

The two main characters, enduring the good and the bad together, fighting off villains and creating their own fantastical world.

Chapter after chapter conquered, all thought they were headed towards a happy ending.

Then the climax of the story shows its ugly face, and its over.

So sudden and mysteriously, the characters’ live change in a blink of the eye.

A few of his words, some of their tears, then the pages were ripped apart, and out of the book.

With ripped pages and torn hearts, their book never made it to print.