The Margin is a quiet corner for what doesn’t need a full page. A home for stray, in-between pieces left in your notes or at the end of your notebook.
a goodbye by mhe
I have to say goodbye to people who I have barely said hi to.
Random poke by artist
It’s crazy how people in today’s world will really think that they’re living the life of a celebrity that they’re obsessed with. Being influenced is great but damn shi like matcha wouldn’t have this push if people were more influenced than obsessed
(DON’T) WANNA LEAVE by mhe
i’m scared to leave but i’m also scared to stay all the things that keep me here are the ones that want me away
howdy by carl
I found myself at tables I never wanted to sit at, and at the ones I couldn’t escape from, I built my own world.
wait a bit by nico sawyer
one day
maps that navigate us around
will be so evolved
that no one will get lost
grass won’t have any muddy shortcuts
and everybody will be on time
exactly where
they should be
and since everything
will go
according to plan
the only things
that will travel the world
will be our handed-out
forgotten
or lost
lighters
by katia l ruiz
we miss the entuhiasm of the other people, instead of the empathy of other people.
I’m a Man by artist
Faith tested by desire leaving you irritable
Wanting something so true never to be attained
Untamed thoughts leading into inanition
Frequent enough to question your purpose along with your existence
Is this who you are?
Is this what you are?
Fall into desire and see what you fear come to light
Fall into faith to broaden your sword
It’s war amongst the psyche
Vanquisher being the Vanquished
-
Changes with no direction inspiring the feeling of comfort
Nice hair, nice eyes
Unexpected change but necessary to
who you are now
Nice face, soft voice
Despising the rapid weakness you feel with every glance
Soft hands, soft lips
Waving off any vulnerable feeling as lust or desire
Fine stroll, sharp figure
My thoughts and movements seem artificial when I think of you
Insightful mind, strong passion
Hopefully we’ll meet one day,
and I can finally be who I am
I love you, I don’t love you -
Man oh Man
Strong-willed with a plan Active with no emotion
Small cracks in his devotion Boundaries tall with judgement Emptiness his cruel supplement
Man oh Man -
a memory of by mila
I can still feel the memory of something that happened such a long time ago. But the fact that I think about it every day makes it seem like it wasn’t ages ago at all. Time has passed — all the in-between moments too — yet the outcome isn’t really an outcome, because nothing has changed. I’m still there. It’s like watching a movie for years, being far from the end yet far from the beginning. I feel stuck in the middle, still trying to hold on to the first part of the movie. It feels safer, because I already know what’s going to happen. I’ve been trying to get rid of the feeling of needing the past in my present. It wakes me up — calling me to watch the beginning of the movie again, as if there’s still something left to see. Everything that has happened since feels meaningless. It’s as if the movie stopped playing when it ended, and I’ve been not enjoying the in-between ever since. The worst part is that I go places, I see things, I meet people — but I don’t really know them. I don’t really know these places. Nothing I’ve come to know feels as familiar as the past. It’s strange, because I like the present, but I don’t feel like I own it. It just happens in front of me and for me, and somehow I’ve missed a big part of it — replaying the same movie over and over, always just the first part. When I wait for more, the “more” comes, and I don’t complain. It happens, and I’m glad — but only glad, because what else can I be? There’s nothing in this world that could truly surprise me, except death — because I somehow believe we’re immortal. Until death comes, I’m still in between, trying to return to something that never actually happened, but that I deeply wished for.
again, I win by nico sawyer
eleven at night.
three beers in.
one angry man
screaming how
he wants to
fight someone.
didn't have a
chance to beat
him up
but I can drag him down
on this paper
to the bottom margin
just
like
this.
again, I win by nico sawyer
eleven at night.
three beers in.
one angry man
screaming how
he wants to
fight someone.
didn't have a
chance to beat
him up
but I can drag him down
on this paper
to the bottom margin
just
like
this.
I’m a Man by artist
Faith tested by desire leaving you irritable
Wanting something so true never to be attained
Untamed thoughts leading into inanition
Frequent enough to question your purpose along with your existence
Is this who you are?
Is this what you are?
Fall into desire and see what you fear come to light
Fall into faith to broaden your sword
It’s war amongst the psyche
Vanquisher being the Vanquished
-
Changes with no direction inspiring the feeling of comfort
Nice hair, nice eyes
Unexpected change but necessary to
who you are now
Nice face, soft voice
Despising the rapid weakness you feel with every glance
Soft hands, soft lips
Waving off any vulnerable feeling as lust or desire
Fine stroll, sharp figure
My thoughts and movements seem artificial when I think of you
Insightful mind, strong passion
Hopefully we’ll meet one day,
and I can finally be who I am
I love you, I don’t love you -
Man oh Man
Strong-willed with a plan Active with no emotion
Small cracks in his devotion Boundaries tall with judgement Emptiness his cruel supplement
Man oh Man -
wait a bit by nico sawyer
one day
maps that navigate us around
will be so evolved
that no one will get lost
grass won’t have any muddy shortcuts
and everybody will be on time
exactly where
they should be
and since everything
will go
according to plan
the only things
that will travel the world
will be our handed-out
forgotten
or lost
lighters
by katia l ruiz
we miss the entuhiasm of the other people, instead of the empathy of other people.
by katia l ruiz
we miss the entuhiasm of the other people, instead of the empathy of other people.
a memory of by mila
I can still feel the memory of something that happened such a long time ago. But the fact that I think about it every day makes it seem like it wasn’t ages ago at all. Time has passed — all the in-between moments too — yet the outcome isn’t really an outcome, because nothing has changed. I’m still there. It’s like watching a movie for years, being far from the end yet far from the beginning. I feel stuck in the middle, still trying to hold on to the first part of the movie. It feels safer, because I already know what’s going to happen. I’ve been trying to get rid of the feeling of needing the past in my present. It wakes me up — calling me to watch the beginning of the movie again, as if there’s still something left to see. Everything that has happened since feels meaningless. It’s as if the movie stopped playing when it ended, and I’ve been not enjoying the in-between ever since. The worst part is that I go places, I see things, I meet people — but I don’t really know them. I don’t really know these places. Nothing I’ve come to know feels as familiar as the past. It’s strange, because I like the present, but I don’t feel like I own it. It just happens in front of me and for me, and somehow I’ve missed a big part of it — replaying the same movie over and over, always just the first part. When I wait for more, the “more” comes, and I don’t complain. It happens, and I’m glad — but only glad, because what else can I be? There’s nothing in this world that could truly surprise me, except death — because I somehow believe we’re immortal. Until death comes, I’m still in between, trying to return to something that never actually happened, but that I deeply wished for.