Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it “Chops”
because that was the name of his dog
And that’s what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X’s
and he had to ask his father what the X’s meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it
Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it “Autumn”
because that was the name of the season
And that’s what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him 
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.
Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it “Innocence: A Question”
because that was the question about his girl
And that’s what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle’s Creed went
And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner 
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly
That’s why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it “Absolutely Nothing”
Because that’s what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn’t think
he could reach the kitchen.

the-absolute-funniest-posts:

gaminzone:
so frustrating…it’s like they’re doing it on purpose lol 
Follow this blog, you will love it on your dashboard

the-absolute-funniest-posts:

gaminzone:

so frustrating…it’s like they’re doing it on purpose lol 

Follow this blog, you will love it on your dashboard

Spectacular Abandoned Theatres and Cinemas of the Northeastern United States

Any venue designed for the entertainment of hundreds, or even thousands, of people in a single viewing is bound feel rather spooky once the crowds have despersed. Disused theatres and movie palaces are among the most mysterious abandoned buildings, and thanks to the advent of television and multiplexes, they exist in abundance. While their faded elegance makes for a melancholy scene, their vibrant colours and peeling grandeur offer a spectacular subject for photographers like Matt Lambros who captured these stunning images.

Abandoned architecture has fascinated me since I was five years old. My grandmother used to take my brother and I in to investigate any old barn she happened to drive past. She was curious about what was left behind, and her inquisitive nature made a lasting impression on me.I grew up in Dutchess County, New York, and like most places there were quite a few supposedly “haunted” buildings begging for a closer look. Hudson River State hospital, one of the first places I went to on my own, was one of them. My friends and I used to drive around the campus late at night trying to scare each other. It was then that my interest in abandoned buildings evolved into a vehicle for artistic expression.

I’ve spent ten years composing photographic obituaries for once-thriving buildings that are now crumbled and forgotten. My hope for my work is that it will shine light on beautiful, dated architecture and on the equal yet sinister beauty in decay.

Matt Lambros

 

Walang taong AASA kung walang taong MAGPAPAASA pero walang taong MAGPAPAASA kung walang taong AASA. Ay ewan. :))

Sometimes, it’s better not to know things

Or at least pretend to.

Things are much easier when you know that the prying eyes of those who will, but maybe unintentionally, pity you are out of the picture. It’s just that, sometimes, being alone is the right choice. Not that I’m being sadistic or something but there’s this relief that once you get out of this mess, you won’t have to explain yourself to others. You just recover, that’s it.