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The boy's response to a list of opinions posted by someone who had "15 years of experience, has written about 2 million words, has an English degree and tutored dozens of students".
My opinion as a highschool dropout who has tutored absolutely no one nor approximated their lifetime word count:
The opinions of others on what defines an artist are worthless.
Avoid these people. They are weeds in your garden. They are the enemy of art and they are the enemy of progress. And it's your garden, let it be yours, and beautiful, and let It be beautiful to only you
by necessity
My opinion as a gardener:
Our mother had a baby and its head popped off; at best they are the stems of dandelion curling in your soup soup soup. Pop pop pop; you may dry and flatten them as you see fit.
My opinion as a man who, having lost everything, absconded into the woods to starve and wail and write until my fingers bled:
Write as to shit something out before you expire.
Anything out before you expire.
Write as an alternative to expiration.
Hold on to as much as you possibly can.
Cry over spilled milk if you must; hope is only lost if you forget it ever existed. You will not find what hope you lost, but you can write about it. It will be little consolation, but it will be some consolation.
Take any consolation that you can find.
Drink any milk you can mange, even if its sour.
Even if you're crying.
You are, in fact, a writer,
and good for you.
Do whatever you can manage
Do the thing that writers do.
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Imagine me fainting in this hallway.
It's 4pm and I'd finally stood up
to weep and crumble at the concrete floor outside the apartment.
Imagine me smoking a cigarette on the corner.
It's just before summer and I'd finally caught a job.
It's part time. I said I hated part time but I failed another class.
Imagine me drinking beer on the weekends.
I told my parents I'd never drink
...but this one tastes like jolly rancher.
Imagine me giving up.
Haven't I done enough?
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you’re not alone in the universe. at the very least, you have libraries, flowers, strawberries, poetry, stars, and the moon.
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🦋 MARINA is back with her new single Butterfly! 🦋
To become a butterfly Parts of me had to die
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You will find peace in death; the quest for death is the name of Cowardice.
02.18.2024
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I was swimming at the pond on Sunday when something wrapped around my foot. I thrashed and thrashed. "Oh help me! Someone help!" The girls on the shore took notice chuck chuck CHUCKLING and now they were giddy giggling. I'd come alone, little did I know. What a fool I'd been. I'm such a fool, a freak, a joke. "She doesn't know how to swim?" "How could she come swimming if she can't swim?" "Gosh what an idiot!" "Ew I bet she expects us to save her!" I'm gonna die here. I should have learned to swim. "What're you going on about?", said the fisherman. There next to me in the water was a boat with its two oars, Rickety and Sticky. He held out his arm. I climbed into the boat, this time, wondering if I'll drown again.
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Touch. Touch. Touch.
Stabbing
Prickle. Pick. My name,
my neck,
and the burning,
lingering sensation
crossing
—Pop! Popping. Her graces,
her dreams,
and his yearning.
Clawing! Digging! Clamouring!
Crabs!
Grabbing, pulling murderously,
hopelessly
sobbing.
#writing#girlblogging#journal#poem#poetry#depressing shit#girlcore#sad quotes#horror#girlhood#grief#dealing with grief#grieving#tw depressing thoughts#tw depressing stuff#sorry for being depressing#im exhausted#im sorry#im so so so sorry
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"What if my working hard isn't hard enough?"
#writing#journal#girlblogging#depressing shit#girlcore#sad quotes#horror#girlhood#workaholics#poetry
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