“My Brother Used To Ask The Birds To Forgive Him; That Sounds Senseless But It Is Right; For All Is

details @ georges hobeika fall 2018

I was born very far from where I’m supposed to be so I’m on my way home.

Bob Dylan (via wnq-music)

“How much did you say the room was?”

My feelings are transparent, dangerously luminous, and they remain.

Edna St. Vincent Millay, from a diary entry written c. September 1911 (via violentwavesofemotion)

ok universe, i’m ready to feel good things. make me feel good things.

Smoke Like Phantoms

Smoke like souls

Crooked, gnarling ghosts that float right through you.

They are free when they are taken by the wind.

Dissipated, faded into empty air.

Until that’s all that’s left.

Empty space.

Empty?

It must still be full of ghosts.

They must be somewhere.

All the ghosts in this space alone,

How many in this house?

How many in the garden?

The forgotten patrons of this land,

An unimaginable multitude of memories.

Does anyone keep these memories still?

I want to believe that this place gave joy.

I have felt joy here.

I have seen such beauty in this land, but

It has also witnessed my pain.

It has watched my adolescence unfold.

Whoever owns this house next will never know.

Does it remain, in the ghosts

Of the smoke

That stains these walls?

    - S.T / moving out