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[post-punk-revival]

The child who could not scream

When he was born, his first breath was cold But he didn’t scream. So they declared him The healthiest baby they’ve ever seen, So much that he didn’t even need The blanket they had ready for him. So they handed him back to his parents and his first Lesson from the world was that it was cold, And his second was that there would Be offered no warmth.

When he was learning to walk He fell and scraped himself And did not scream. But children always scream when they’re hurt So when he said, “I’m hurt,” calmly, Without tears, they said to him, “No, you aren’t. If you were, you would Have screamed. This is unimportant. Lying is wrong,” they told him. So he never received a bandage And never asked for one again.

When his room was cold at night, He never slept with a blanket. He had learned that lying is wrong And he wasn’t cold.

When he was in school Other kids started to push him After class on the playground. They would hit him when no one would see, So the child went to a teacher And said, “The other kids are hurting me.” But the teacher never heard him scream. So he was told, “No, they aren’t. If they were, you should Have screamed. This is unimportant. Exaggerating is wrong,” he was told. So he never saw the cruelty prevented And never expected to again.

When it was cold outside, His body never shivered, even involuntarily. It had learned that lying is wrong, exaggerating is wrong, And he wasn’t cold.

When he was going to work one day, Just once, for a moment, There was something in the air That chilled his breath and suddenly, all at once, Over his body came every shiver of a cold that had never been quelled, and every scrape that had never been given a bandage, and every bruise from a hit that had never been prevented, And over his mind came every rage at injustices unnoticed, and every betrayal of pain dismissed as a fantasy, and every dolor of a child never offered warmth. All at once. And he screamed. The child who never screamed fell to the ground and grabbed his head and wept and screamed, “Help me, oh my god. Help me.” So people rushed to him and asked, “What? What’s wrong? What do you need help with?” But he couldn’t say. He didn’t know the word injustice, or betrayal, or dolor, or bruise or scrape or cold. He only knew the words lie and exaggerate and unimportant. So he told them he didn’t know, that he was wrong, and apologized, And went to work.

And when the man went to bed that night He slept without a blanket And wasn’t cold.

[aezterx]

[post-punk-revival]

Permanent by Seeming x2 / Who Will Find My Body? by Observe the 93rd / Panoramic View by Awolnation

[post-punk-revival]

My luck is bad but at least it makes life interesting! Is what I'd say if it made life interesting instead of an unceasing and yet somehow impossibly mundane and tedious torment

[post-punk-revival]

Yeah I'm in a relationship. A symbiotic relationship. Called "the inseparability of a fictional character from its narrative." So I'm flattered, but taken

[post-punk-revival]

why do you run?

[post-punk-revival]

Guy who screams "I CAN'T FUCKING TAKE IT ANYMORE" just once then continues to take it forever and ever

[post-punk-revival]

end stage summer

It doesn’t rain anymore.

Not lately. Not for a while. The summer just keeps getting hotter. The humidity rises. Condensation on paper cups And heat shimmers visibly off of the boiling asphalt. Still no rain. 30% chance of rain on Friday says the forecast. Come Friday: no rain. Just a steering wheel in a car sending someone to urgent care And a bird that fell out of a tree, collapsed.

The humidity rises. The summer wants to weep, but can’t; A build-up of grief in the eyes and chokes. 35% chance of rain on Wednesday says the forecast. Come Wednesday: clear blue skies. The sun is like a divine king, untouchable. The jet stream is changing course says the forecast. The summer wheezes in agony and holds up a white flag.

20% chance of rain tonight. Windows are fogged. The humidity weighs down the very air until it drags on the ground. Oh, it’ll rain, people say. It’ll rain tomorrow, if not tonight. It’s gotta. Big one’s coming, everybody. Batten down the hatches. This one’s gonna be the real deal. Do you feel that heat? Do you feel how humid? It can’t last forever; dam’s gonna burst. And when it storms, Man oh man, it’s gonna storm!

Come tomorrow: No rain.

It just keeps getting hotter And hotter And hotter And

[post-punk-revival]

⚠️ Oops! You experienced hope for the future. Kill it before it bites you

[post-punk-revival]

Good morning! More Everything

[post-punk-revival]

When you get good news about something too far in the future to comprehend getting to experience it before (due to the curse) something tragic and terrible happens, but then you remember (due to the curse) your decline will be a slow, painful and exhausting one, your suffering conveniently imperceptible to everyone except you no matter how much you beg and plead to be listened to until it's too late 😍 So you'll still be alive this time next year.

[post-punk-revival]

I'll be OK i just need to construct this delirious recursive metanarrative

[post-punk-revival]

You want singing it to feel like experiencing what the lyrics are about.

[post-punk-revival]

My toxic trait is thinking I'd be fine if rotated fourth dimensionally by a higher being. Like my time perception's so fucked that i wouldn't find it any more incomprehensible than anything else and it might even put me right. It'd be like chiropracty for a shitty spine and it somehow actually realigns everything except the spine is my brain and the chiropractor is a Lovecraftian horror taking hammers to my chronological reality. "ouhuh but eldritch madness" I'm already mad when do I meet Cthulhu 

[post-punk-revival]

Sometimes healing the inner child is an endosymbiotic invokative Lovecraftian affair and that's just how it is. Btw has anybody seen my extradimensional vulturous demon-spirit around, I haven't heard its mantic whisperings since my ibbur reaffixed last Pesach. Also why do I feel so chronospatially fucked up all of a sudden lol. like tilted at the wrong angle temporally. Probably unrelated

[post-punk-revival]

Been so down lately. I just came out of a serious long-term supernatural experience