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On the crest of a hill, the third voice enters: a voice that demonstrates, with elegant precision, the primacy of speech over writing. Johann Drake is trying to swallow a Bible. Take it, and eat it up. Eating a book is a nonliterate response to text. Ingested and digested, the words become part of the speaker, who is then endowed with the spirit of prophecy. The image echoes the sacrament of communion, in which participants ingest the body of Christ, the Word made flesh. The vision of eating a book evokes a transcendent relationship with language, in which one is not a speaker but an instrument. The words of the Book flow from one’s mouth. Pure praise, pure expression, like lark song. As the old hymn puts it, “How can I keep from singing?”

—Sofia Samatar, The White Mosque: A Memoir

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Before I developed my thesis, this was one of its initial concepts/iterations. It meant so much to me, so I thought of publishing it!

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jessczapalskipoetry

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but you see her on instagram and it was never really said that you guys aren’t friends but one day she stopped answering and you stopped texting and it’s not like the wound is a cavern but it is a diagram of what if in red letters. you want to tell her nice lipstick that’s a good color but the last time you spoke it was stilted and awkward 

how do you say goodbye, you know? it’s not an unfriend and block kind of situation. but you watch the people you once loved go on and have a life and you’re outside of it. and it’s bittersweet because of course it’s okay that you’re both thriving. but she used to be who you’d call if you needed to cry. she used to be who’d you’d be binge watching the new series with. you used to be hers, in a way, even if that way wasn’t permanent. and now she’s someone else and so are you and your friendship is clicking heart shapes next to pictures where she smiles next to people you’ve never met. you know where her birthmark is. she knows where you’ve buried your dead.

the poets and the singers and the authors write about romantic love when it ends. but nobody tells you how to get over a friend.

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#poem for #August • — touch August before it leaves: slowly, tenderly . a warm whispering a familiar traceability a new syntax of rain . i brace myself against the tactile, the liminal and still i wake . earlier than the gliding sun twice soft, half-asleep under a bruising dawn . i oscillate, i breathe i pulse forward into existence (amen. amen. amen.) - j. p. berame, “August,” in this year: POEMS 2017

https://www.instagram.com/p/CEg9obUhq_R/

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check out my first published ttrpg!

bungad is a tabletop roleplaying game where you play as a supernatural /celestial/divine being who chose to transform into a new form that is beyond your (initial) understanding and far from who you originally were. explore the world and yourself, guess other players' new forms and play it here:

in manga title summary: I Used to be a Star and Now, I'm a Chess Board on Earth!

feel free to share your thoughts on the game with me! i hope you enjoy playing!

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it's interesting to think that all of the people that made a huge impact in my life (positive or negative) gave me a scarf for an important occasion

the first was from my first dear friend in high school (it was a birthday/christmas gift? i can't remember but it was their first gift to me, i think. i used it a lot in high school.)

the second was from my wonderful friend, a majormate who thought of me during their travels (by far my most used scarf! it's the one i gravitate toward the most)

the third was a parting gift from my amazing best friend when we moved up from junior high school (now we're neighbours in an apartment complex in college and her scarf protects my cherished typewriter)

the fourth is a birthday gift from a "friend" who i tried to reconnect with but it didn't work out (i don't think i've ever used her scarf yet, for some reason)

these people brought me warmth in more ways than one and it's like the scarves they gifted me with are a testament to that

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Museum of

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// GRAVE OF TRÄUMEREI ― ENGLISH RELEASE

Grave of Träumerei is a game created for a collaboration project between indie developers 丸得基��� and ネムリタの国. The game follows Tsutsuji and Sumire as they work together to try and escape a train that seemingly never stops.

GAME DOWNLOAD

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Wetter water, Dadu Shin

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[grabs your shirt] listen. listen to me. the practical is holy. the everyday is sacred. the simple act of surviving is divine. do you get it? sanctity begins at home, in the hands that build and the lives we live and the deaths we die and the worms that eat our bodies. if making something by hand is not worthy of veneration then nothing is.

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Performing the rituals of the ordinary as an act of faith.

—Marilynne Robinson, from Housekeeping

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anyone know that reddit post about a girl who’s gf washes her hair and it talks about non sexual intimacy

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WHERE is that poem about that person learning all about their partners hyperfixation before getting dumped the last line is like "love is a stack of books on my nightstand with a bookmark near the end" I need it to feel whole help me please