moriarcos

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I looked out the window. The grass was green. The trees were alive. So different from what I expected. Six hours ago I had been laying in my bed, thinking about how it would feel like. I got off the plane. I sold my life to new ground, but I still did not know it. Now I'm waiting on tomorrow. I'm waiting for the moment in which I'll have to embrace new soil as if it were my home. But I'll never love it like home. There is no place like home.

worn

The small diary used to be pink. Now it is brown full of dust. I try to pad it out. I try to take it back to it's joyous pink, but the dust never ends. The speckles invade my nostrils and enrage my allergies. I become sick and I know there is only one way to cleanse the pink diary. I know there is only one way I can get better. It is bringing it back... to you.

unfounded

Columbus reached the shore. He found the beautiful pearl of which he dreamed after months at sea. Only in his mind had he been the first to claim this land. Only in his greed could he consider the island of Boriké unfounded.

mythic

Believe, why should I believe. It compares to nothing but that which has been repeated throughout every culture. Existence, non existence, both inarguable claims. Wheter God is but a mirage of our own human desire I cannot say. All I know is that if I lost my faith in him, I'd only believe in one less god than most of you.

writing since 2014 · 4 entries · 4 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Marcos showed up.

2longest streak

4days written

3.1entries / week

on this day 12 years ago

Marcos wrote about terrain
“I looked out the window. The grass was green. The trees were alive. So different from what I expected. Six hours ago I had been laying in my bed, thinking about how it would feel like. I got off the …”

the words Marcos reaches for

believepinkhomeexistencegoddiarynowdustwaitingcomparesrepeatedthroughoutculturenoninarguableclaims