Lisa and I played a round of frisbee-disc golf today—let’s reminisce.

I love the ‘live performance’ of sports, how you must physicalise
discipline. You get this instant feedback that you have to own and
lean hard into. The being present to adjust, the internalised mechanisms of performance—the ‘liveness’—is the most exciting thing about sports. And, of course, the one who does it best wins—there’s a simplicity to it.

Being Sunday, the course was crowded with guys. Most of the groups were college teams of five or six guys. Since there were only two of us, we were playing faster.

I don’t like going up to a group of guys and asking to play through.
They always let us but we get these appraising looks—not strictly golf related—that you can feel. So we skipped around the guys and played open holes—still playing 18—they just weren't contiguous and it took a bit longer.

It was great to get out in the sun. The course was all rolling fairways, there’s no grass greener and no sky bluer. I came in 14-under (straight brag). I’m a little competitive, my ego loves to be placed in a hierarchy, and winning seems to give form to me, it’s such a pleasant and coherent narrative.

As we were leaving our escort Charles stepped away for a minute and a couple of Yale looking guys offered us a ride back to campus—which was all very innocent and chivalrous—to save us waiting for an Uber or something—I'm sure (we were all sweaty and looked like drowned rats).
‘Sure,’ I thought, ‘let’s run off into the sunset.. not.’
But I said, “No, thanks, anyway.”
.
.
Songs for this:
Golden Boys by Res
Fruitcake by Subsonic Eye

I want to breathe in the field,
Where the wind is warm,
And drink the air deeply.
It’ll be so awesome!

I want to lie in the grass,
Give up to the sun bliss,
And fall subtly asleep
In the shade of trees like in a kiss.

I want to inbreathe more deeply
The honey odour of flowers.
I want to hug the air
And be in there for hours.

I want to make it true!
I need it for being alive!
I'll hug the air! I’ll kiss the sun
And maybe I will revive!

Every time I blink,
our worlds grow farther apart.

Every time you blink,
my shadow abstracts itself.

Yesterday,
a rose.

Today,
a crown.

Tomorrow,
the space between us.

Do you see it yet?
The darkness that separates even stars.

snowless morning
worries of losing a friend
wake me up

a flock of pigeons endlessly
circles the church tower

twilight grasses
each of them sways
in its own rhythm

lost in the clouds
I study poems of old masters

Do not tread here,
Not on this land.
These grasses hide graves,
This dirt is a death-land.
If you must walk this desolate space,
Step carefully, travel light.
If you're not nimble,
This journey may be your last.
Adding another body,
To this grim grass.

the pink clouds move slow
slow like i was tricked by the years

gleaming over grass i walked
by feet
small in saturday's shoes

sharp patch grass and dirt that stuck to my back
replaced by the warmth of wood chips
familial love reflects off the set up sign
  swaying on the lawn

i feel its burn in my eyes

the ice cream man drives by
i guess the best flavor isn't in stock anymore

the sun keeps setting on my dreams to escape  
i already woke up from it all

I've embraced the idea that you don't care
You opened the door and a dog barked, i was there
I wondered if it was mad at me
But there I was, walking not on the street but sniffly on the sidewalk
I didn't see the car pass
It was if i had jumped forward in time and blacked out
And jumped with my feet but they never left that gravel
And as I stumbled along the doldrums
The silence was deafening
But the boat was not sinking
And neither was my resolve to pedal through
Looking for a warm wind
To catch my drift and lift me into a bend
I think my empty gaze scared that lady
But she evidently won't be scared tomorrow
Certainly not of a schoolboy like me
Which leaves my feet to be clumsy
Walking one over the other in a death march to-be

Would you still want a touch of a garment to Heaven, even if
it kills you? Ten thousand steps away from Heaven – I could be
on my nine hundred and ninety nineth step; but the question is
would I get in without an invitation?

Would you still fall asleep, even if you wound up resting right
next to death – given a limit to your air, would you start to count
your breaths? In the end, I hope my eyes pray whenever they blink,
and my heart silently repents for their lips "good" reputation.

I hear the eery songs of sirens; my own voices in my head – that
are acting like background singers and the Devil's ****** advice.
Do I feel alive doing the things that risk my own life; mixing
desires with passion – a bit of too much passion in my own desires.
Twelve speed racing to smile, but sometimes I despise being so
nice.

Sometimes I'm a world built on lies; sometimes I lie on top of those
years long gone – the grass that's greener on the other side, I just
want to enjoy the scent of that freshly cut lawn.

I pull up grass and feel guilty about it
I know it’s not bad.
So why can’t I stop?
The blade just keeps looking up at me
“Why did you do it again?”
“It hurts”

There’s scars on the yard from the last times
It’s fine.
I’ll water it when I feel better
So why can’t I stop?
The silver just keeps looking at me
“Why’d you do it again?”
“It hurt”

I pull up the grass and feel guilty about cuts
The lawn will grow back
I cover up my arms and legs
The ground is barren and mowed to dirt
So why can’t I stop?
The blade stares
“Again?”
“…”

By Arcassin B

Your melanin keeps me young and mines stimulate you.

Even though it's not the basis of our relationship,
Still need the sticky residue,
With you , explore the lows and the highs,
Want you to show me how you cry,
Wanna feel heaven just when we combine,

I want the honey , the birds , the bees , the grass,
The trees , chocolate cookies , I need them in my life,
I want ya' smile , ya' smell , ya'head , ya' toes,
You love it and it shows,
Maybe I want you as a wife.
🐝
full link below<<<< copypaste
🥶