jordan-alan-brown
jordan-alan-brown:

Mt. Fuji | 09/20/2014

Mt. Fuji

Live bodies stacked together, dreaming of better nights and further travels. 
Exposed at the onsen, water crawls up the nape of my neck while I float away this hangover. 
Shipped along tunnels through mountains, I’m a ghost for the second time this year. 
To the girl who told me that poetry doesn’t exist in everything,  I wept at the thought of such a colorless world. The earth trembles and rotates with an explosion of brilliance. 
The countryside lays gently like the perfect page, the city is dark and stains like pen.
I suffer in excellence,  suffer beautifully, suffer wholly, to feel the things subtle and great that surround me. 

Jordan Alan Brown

jordan-alan-brown:

Mt. Fuji | 09/20/2014

Mt. Fuji

Live bodies stacked together, dreaming of better nights and further travels.
Exposed at the onsen, water crawls up the nape of my neck while I float away this hangover.
Shipped along tunnels through mountains, I’m a ghost for the second time this year.
To the girl who told me that poetry doesn’t exist in everything, I wept at the thought of such a colorless world. The earth trembles and rotates with an explosion of brilliance.
The countryside lays gently like the perfect page, the city is dark and stains like pen.
I suffer in excellence, suffer beautifully, suffer wholly, to feel the things subtle and great that surround me.

Jordan Alan Brown

Mt. Fuji | 09/20/2014

Mt. Fuji

Live bodies stacked together, dreaming of better nights and further travels. 
Exposed at the onsen, water crawls up the nape of my neck while I float away this hangover. 
Shipped along tunnels through mountains, I’m a ghost for the second time this year. 
To the girl who told me that poetry doesn’t exist in everything,  I wept at the thought of such a colorless world. The earth trembles and rotates with an explosion of brilliance. 
The countryside lays gently like the perfect page, the city is dark and stains like pen.
I suffer in excellence,  suffer beautifully, suffer wholly, to feel the things subtle and great that surround me. 

Jordan Alan Brown

Mt. Fuji | 09/20/2014

Mt. Fuji

Live bodies stacked together, dreaming of better nights and further travels.
Exposed at the onsen, water crawls up the nape of my neck while I float away this hangover.
Shipped along tunnels through mountains, I’m a ghost for the second time this year.
To the girl who told me that poetry doesn’t exist in everything, I wept at the thought of such a colorless world. The earth trembles and rotates with an explosion of brilliance.
The countryside lays gently like the perfect page, the city is dark and stains like pen.
I suffer in excellence, suffer beautifully, suffer wholly, to feel the things subtle and great that surround me.

Jordan Alan Brown

Anonymous asked:

I can't wait to see you randomly walking around Buffalo, you're extremely handsome and you make my mind go crazy.

Unfortunately I’ll probably be in my room until next May or in the forest climbing a tree. No time for babes.

jordan-alan-brown
jordan-alan-brown:

Osaka Line | 09/16/2014

On the train to Kyoto you spilled your guts about what you hated most in me from half a world away. 
There’s a soft, constant ache in my head when I think of the things I’ve done.
Words left hanging in the air, only to be buried in time and permanency.
I wonder if you’ll ever see me again the way you did when I packed my things and trekked the western highways. 
Once a mountain,  stable and secure, 
reduced to dust, a nuisance and insignificant. 
Daydreams of planes plunging to the bottom of the ocean, never to be found one lone passenger anchored by guilt and shame. 

Jordan Alan Brown

jordan-alan-brown:

Osaka Line | 09/16/2014

On the train to Kyoto you spilled your guts about what you hated most in me from half a world away.
There’s a soft, constant ache in my head when I think of the things I’ve done.
Words left hanging in the air, only to be buried in time and permanency.
I wonder if you’ll ever see me again the way you did when I packed my things and trekked the western highways.
Once a mountain, stable and secure,
reduced to dust, a nuisance and insignificant.
Daydreams of planes plunging to the bottom of the ocean, never to be found one lone passenger anchored by guilt and shame.

Jordan Alan Brown