#god . why is it so hard to articulate my thoughts about this poem in English that is so stupid

[nitannichionne]

If He Was YOUR Fan, Chapter 5: Top of the World (Henry Cavill x Reader Fanfic)

You finally stop in front of Westminster Abbey and you gasp.

“You said you hadn’t gotten around to it,” Henry gives a shrug so small only you can feel it since you’re holding him.

“Ohhhhhh,” you whisper, sliding off.

He takes your hand and leads you inside. There is an evening tour going on.

“Oh, we’re late--?” You gasp, about to step toward them, but Henry squeezes your hand slightly. You step back and see a young man walking toward you.

“Mr. Cavill?” he says, extending his hand. “I’m Gordon, your guide this evening.”

“Hello, Gordon,” Henry nods, shaking the man’s hand. He introduces you and you all take off in another direction, but not before some of the people in the back of tour group start to notice you. You cringe as a few phones swing your way, but unless they are using zoom, probably got nothing.

You nod through the tour, but then you finally reach it. “Yes!” You move quickly.

“Ah, so you know Poet’s Corner!” Gordon smiles.

“Yeah!” you are excited and start reading names and telling what they wrote to catch your attention. “You see, from junior high on, I started reading these people. They were such a comfort, such a getaway, so inspiring, you know?  I absolutely loved them.” Your eyes are bright with tears.

“Your favorite English poet?”

“I don’t know, they all said things that struck me,” you say. “I mean, like Elizabeth Barrett Browning-she started writing when she was eleven! I was twelve!” you laugh, shaking your head. “Thomas Hardy—but not his heart, it’s with his wife, and then—” you sigh. “then there’s Herrick…” your face tears up. “He was the one who made me feel like I was beautiful no matter what—”

“Not Shakespeare?” Henry asks.

“No!” you laugh. “I love Shakespeare, but there is this poem called ‘Delight In Disorder?’ Or ‘No Fault In Women? No?” you take a breath. “He talked about how our imperfections make us beautiful. I mean, men don’t act that way, but I thought, if one can see it, maybe there was hope—” You stop, realizing you were about to say something terribly personal, and turn back to the memorial, hugging yourself. “It’s a beautiful place, really!” You gaze upon the entire monument of graves, tablets and busts, trying to memorize everything, but your vision blurs with tears. “You probably think I’m silly—” You turn and see Gordon and Henry standing and smiling. “Yeah, you do.”

“No, madam,” Gordon nods respectfully. “I think you get it.”

Henry puts his arm around you. “Need more time?”

“Oh, I could stand here forever—” But from a distance, you hear a group coming in and you look up at him. “We should go. It isn’t going anywhere, right?”

Henry nods slowly. “Right.”

You finish the tour and Gordon walks you to the door.

“It’s been an honor, sir—” Gordon nods to Henry who nods back, then looks at you and half bows. “and a great privilege, madam.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

You walk away, and Henry pulls you closer to him as you walk out. “I think you made his day, pet.”

You gasp softly. “Why? What—”

“Not everyone loves literature and writing as you do,” he smiles down at you. “people like you are why Poets Corner is there-to remember and inspire the present and future with the past. I am quite sure he’ll never forget you.”

Your cheeks heat, feeling embarrassed. “I have been there before, but…it’s so, so, so—”

He kisses your temple. “Nothing to explain, darling,” he whispers. “nothing to explain.”

You move on and once again, Henry has made a reservation:

“Oh, my God, what a beautiful view!” you breathe as you ascend in the London Eye, looking at London from a bird’s eye view via ferris wheel. “This is great!”

You look at the virtual guide, which is a map of the city from on high with buttons one can push for information. Henry steps behind you and presses each one, systematically giving you a quick overview of downtown London. His voice is smooth and cultured, his words measured and articulate, total poetry in motion as he tells you about each site by heart. You try to listen, but the feel of his body behind, you the firmness and warmth of it, the softness of his lips as they brush your ear perhaps accidentally, the sound his voice that causes you relax against him, makes you a poor student at the moment.

At the height of the wheel, overlooking twinkling city of London and the moonlit river, Henry slowly turns you toward him and kisses you. You’ve been waiting for this; your first kiss was hot and branding, and you craved more, even that reckless and delicious yet aching feeling that he started in the pit of your stomach before. He doesn’t disappoint, and you arch to him again, his arms on either side of you and hands on the sightseeing console trapping you in his embrace. You rake his back, your finger tips digging into the small of his back, and he lifts his head with a small gasp as his hips surge forward compelling you to widen your stance.

“You have really got to stop that,” he smiles down at you with hooded eyes, his breathing quickened once again.

You are panting. “I’m not sure I can.” You do it again, and love the feel of him. His eyes are smoldering. Not here, you think. Not here. Ever?

But the answer was in his eyes as you private car starts downward. “Let’s…head to my place. Still got all that food from Godfrey’s.”

“Oooh, and olives!” you say excitedly, running your fingers through his hair. “I saw wine in there. We’ll make appetizers.”

He frowns slightly and nods, a small smile forming on his lips. “Alright, then. Sounds like a plan…when we get down from here.”

“We’re heading down,” you remind him, feeling a bit nervous now that you feel the wetness of your own arousal, your heartbeat thudding in your ears. You are beginning to ache for him, and you hope he doesn’t know that your heart and body are having a hard time being reined in by your mind and good sense.

“Got about ten minutes,” He whispers. “I’ll think of something…” He lowers his head to recapture your mouth with his and you arch again to his caresses, allowing yourself to surrender to his embrace knowing the night hides you and that reality would come before your ultimate surrender when you reach the ground.

@mistress-of-ward​ @nuggsmum @messyinsomniacbookgirl @jencanbeyouryengeralt​ @sweetdreamsofgelato​ @maryann84 @omgkatinka​ @the-soot-sprite @viking-raider @keanureevesisbae​ @henryobsessed​ @summersong69​ @kinbhot4henners​ @sunshine96love​ @michelehansel​ @radofrivia @thelastsock​ @michelehansel @tumblnewby​

Thanks for the follows and the messages! I’m really having fun with this and it makes me happy you are, too! Let me know if you want to be on the tag list.

[chiyohsrifle]

Got tagged by the marvelous @hvnnigram and I can't wait to bare my soul to you guys. this is a long one, so let's go!!

Rules: Tag people you want to get to know better 🖤

Your name and then what you would've named yourself: My full name is Montserrat (I'm Mexican, in case you couldn't tell. Well Mexican-American but anywho) but I typically go by Montse. Mainly cuz people struggle to pronounce my full name hehe but I also just think it's less of a mouthful. Idk, I honestly really love my name and don't think I'd change it given the chance. Maybe something shorter just cuz paperwork can be a bitch. I like Rene but otherwise, I'm pretty attached to my name lol.

Astrological sign (sun/moon/rising if you know them): I'm a sun Pisces, a moon Aries, and a rising Virgo, I believe :)) All in all, I'm an emotional, empathetic bitch

When did you join Tumblr and why?: Was going through my emails yesterday and I've been here for a year?? apparently. So yea, I joined Aug./Nov. of 2019 and I'm almost certain it was cuz I wanted to see more Good Omens fanart lol. But I got more active this year cuz quarantine do be forcing me to have some wack coping mechanisms. Also BBC Merlin had me reeling and I needed somewhere to scream.

Top 5 fandoms: Hannibal (obviously), BBC Merlin, Killing Eve, Good Omens, and The Umbrella Academy 😊

Top 5 favorite films: (oh Lord, the cinema buff in me is Panicking rn) God, there's so many I love but I'll try to give varietyTM. But I'm a Cheerleader (1999), Parasite (2019), The Wind Rises (2013), Little Shop of Horrors (1986), and Hector and the Search for Happiness (2014).

Go to song when you wanna Feel something: if we're talking like emotionally charged, TALK ME DOWN by Troye Sivan always sends me reeling. Endorphins wise, Ahora Te Puedes Marchar by Luis Miguel always makes me wanna jump and move around. And La Vie Boheme from RENT, just pure serotonin

What's your religion or faith, if you have one?: I was raised with a heavy Catholic background but I'm agnostic, I believe is the term. Basically, I don't think there's not a God or higher power(s). I just don't align with anything specifically. But I do believe there's something running things, whether that be spirits, the stars, gods, etc. I can't say.

A song that makes you feel seen: Not to be a theatre kid on main but, Breathe from In The Heights. That song and whole musical hold such a special place in my heart, esp with Nina's character cuz I'm Nina. Every part of that song just Gets Me and i ugh, can't articulate it but yea, that song be me.

If you could pick a career: A writer or painter. Anything creative/artsy really cuz crafting is just so calming to me.

Do you have a type?: ngl, I'm kinda the 'falls in love with their best friend' stereotype but beyond that, not really. I kinda just see attractive people and mentally short circuit

What does your soul/heart yearn for?: Not to sound like a character from Hannibal, but to be understood. To be cared for and feel supported. To allow myself to rest and be comforted/loved. Just to feel safe ig. Whoop, that got personal, anywho

If you had to describe yourself in 5 words to someone who doesn’t know you: intelligent, caring, awkward, Very Queer, and chaotic

Favorite subject in school: English and History!! I think they're absolutely fascinating and I'm gay so obviously I connect way too much with literature

Where does your soul feel most at home at?: Close to someone that I love, in comfortable silence. Or any situation where I have wind blowing in my face, it's super comforting and idk why

Top 5 fictional characters: Rowena from SPN, Bella Crawford, Beverly Katz, Eve Polastri, and Jack Crawford

Top 3 moments in a show that made you ugly cry:

1. The ending of Your Lie In April. Idk if any of yall have experienced that, but let me know if you have cuz shared trauma. I was crying so hard, I couldn't breathe. Dry heaving and everything, it was Not Pretty

2. Like literally all of One Day At Time. I know, it's cheesy but that show means a lot to me and I get so emotional watching it cuz I connect to the characters so much. Anything with Elena makes me sob cuz like she's me but also my baby, ya know

3. Um Queer Eye in general but specifically the episode with the gay pastor. That hit close to home on so many levels and boy, was I sobbing the entire time.

(Before y'all ask, honorable mention to Mizumono, TWOTL, and the ending of BBC Merlin cuz I may have been too tired to cry, but trust me, I was emotionally wrecked after all three)

The earth, the sun, the moon, or the stars: Ooh, I'm gonna have to go with the stars but I love that lesbian space rock too

Favorite kind of weather: Thunderstorms, rain, cloudy, grey weather. Fall, I love the fall, give me autumn pleASE

Top 3 characters to kin you with: Guinevere Pendragon from BBC Merlin, Vanya Hargreeves from TUA, and Abigail Hobbs from Hannibal

Favorite medium of art: I love all art very much but I guess drawing and film especially

Introvert/Extrovert/Ambivert: Gonna say ambivert cuz I can be shy but buckle up, cuz the second I'm comfortable around you, it's absolute chaos. You will learn too much about me and that's okay 😌

Favorite literary quote: If poetry counts, it's something like "And if the devil was to ever see you, he'd kiss your eyes and repent". Idk who wrote it but it's an Arabic love poem. Actual book quote tho, "But I'm tired of coming out. All I ever do is come out. I try not to change, but I keep changing, in all these little ways." from Simon vs. The Homosapiens Agenda cuz damn me too.

Some of your favorite books: Simon vs. The Homosapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli, the Carry On series by Rainbow Rowell, When I Was Puerto Rican by Esmeralda Santiago, Fun Home by Alison Bechdel, All The Bright Places by Jennifer Lee, Autoboygraphy, and Copper Sun

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?: Europe or New York. No real specifics for Europe, defiently leaning more towards Western Europe and the Mediterranean cuz they just seem so pretty. And NY cuz I want a studio apartment hehe and also I adore NY. I went a couple years back and just fell in love. Although live is a loose term cuz I've always thought of moving around a lot. I like traveling and settling down isn't really convenient for that so these are kinda just ideals lol

If you could live in any time in history, when would it be?: Oh, defiently 60s/70s. Also, anytime matriarch societies were common cuz I wanna see what that looked like

If you could play any instrument masterfully, it would be: the acoustic guitar and piano. Maybe violin, but those two for sure

If you have one, which god or goddess do you feel more connected to?: I've always really vibed with Athena so her. But also Diyonuses cuz man's is the ideal.

And finally, your favorite recent selfie in your camera role:

(Excuse the eye bags and look in general, I was sleepy when I took it)

Whoo, that's all folks. I'm just gonna say that any of my followers/mutuals who want to do this, feel free to say I tagged you. Thanks for tag, once again, babe!!

[peachyteabuck]

fool outta me [bucky barnes x reader]

summary: bucky and you finally have a conversation about your feelings after you catch him getting jealous about your friendship with thor

pairing: bucky barnes x writer!reader

words: 2080

trigger warnings: some teeth rotting fluff. talk about personal insecurities. allusions to previous and future sexual contact without much specifics. mentions of an unspecified childhood trauma

notes/other: hi hello i know i’ve been writing a lot of fluff n stuff. i will get back to fics abt two or more ppl just fuking rawing each other soon. dw. 

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

You and Bucky have been dating for awhile. Not a long time, but awhile. You hadn’t officially moved in together yet (you still paid your half of the rent for your shitty apartment), but you still often slept in his room in the Tower. You’ve had sex, but had never gotten too adventurous. It’s good, Bucky and you are happy. You’re in love. No need to push it, no need to talk it further, no need to complicate things.

You’re sitting on the couch, reading some book about the gendered politics of crafting, when you hear a loud crash in the kitchen. The others are all in other places at far ends of the Tower, and you’re pretty sure Natasha went out to get coffee. But any of them in the kitchen on the common floor? Without you noticing? Nope. Not possible.

Good news is, you trust Tony enough to not allow some stray or burglar to come and kidnap you, so you decide to investigate. You keep your hardcover novel with you to act as a makeshift weapon...just in case.  You’re expecting a rat, or maybe some sort of ghost, possibly a dog no one thought to CC you on the email about - definitely not the god that’s been spooked by a a Nutribullet plastic container thingy that’s fallen from a poorly-stacked cabinet.

“Thor Odinson,” you groan, grabbing and gently placing the large smoothie-thing (oh god, what do you call those things anyway? Do they have names?) in the sink. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He looks sheepish as he explains. “Sorry, my lady. It looks like someone in this residence didn’t put…” he gestures to the object. “That away correctly.”

“It’s fine.” You half laugh, half sigh as you go to hug him. “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

Thor chuckles. “It has! Please, sit back down. I’ll be there in a minute and you can tell me everything I’ve missed!”

You smile, nodding and going back to your place on the extremely comfortable couch. Ever the gentleman, about two minutes later he hands you your favorite mug - a baby blue one with cursive gold lettering that says “flight” with little birds on it- with your favorite tea inside. It’s warm under your hands and provides a relief to the ache from holding the book.

“An apology - for scaring you like that,” Thor tells you as you blow lightly at the steam from the beverage.

Again, you smile. “Apology accepted.”

The conversation between you two flows beautifully. You two talk about this and that: about your writing and his kingly duties. About your new book deal and his universal travels. It seems ludicrous, comparing your lives. But he seems genuinely interested in your life - just as you are his.

Book long forgotten, it seems like hours later when Bucky enters the floor with Natasha and Sam in tow. They’re all chatting about some new upcoming training technique they’re going to try with some of the subordinates. Once they all see Thor, they greet him with the same grand gestures and loud voice they’ve always seemed to use with the equally grand and loud god.

Well, except Bucky. He greets only you and only you with his signature peck on the lips, sitting beside you and pulling you into his chest. He’s showered - thank Gods - and he smells like the body wash you bought him. The honeycomb is calming and comforting, much more so than sweat and adrenaline and whatever else got stuck to him.

“How was the workout?” You ask.

He shrugs when he answers. “Good - the usual.”

You roll your eyes. Bucky may not be able to see it with the angle you’re at, but he knows you’re doing it anyway. “Always so descriptive,” you tease. He smiles, welcoming your chide remarks.

Thor watches the pair of you. You can tell Bucky notices, but neither of you really say anything. He had a habit of staring at things while on Midgard, it became a habit after one-to-many all-too-forward inappropriate questions, mostly made while in public (Why does that woman have a metal bar through her ear? He asked in a coffee shop. Why would anyone want to build a bear, especially little children? He texted you when he went to the mall for a first time. Why does this text end in an eggplant? He questioned when he picked up your phone and accidentally read all of your notifications).

It’s no biggie - at least not to you, so you badger Natasha about her postponing a girls’ night. Bucky, though, doesn’t take his eyes off of the God. He watches Thor with his assassin’s precision, and you choose not to comment.

Soon, your conversation with Thor picks back up. The whole time, Bucky’s muscles occasionally tense. For awhile, you ignore it; You know better than to push anything, so you drop it from your mind for the time being. Later that night, though, you bring it to the surface again as you get dressed for bed and Bucky brushes his teeth.

“Sooo…” you begin, leaning on the doorway to the bathroom.

Bucky spits the black (charcoal was Steve’s new thing, and Bucky’s always willing to be his guinea pig) saliva into the sink. “What’s up, babe?”

You shrug, attempting to remain nonchalant. “What was with you while I was talking to Thor on the couch earlier this afternoon?”

Bucky immediately denies his actions. “Nothing, it was nothing.”

You scoff. “I’m a retired interrogator for the United States Navy. You can’t knock me off your path that easily...James.”

Oooooo, full first names are coming out now. This is getting serious.

Bucky scoffs, too. Yours was serious, though. The one he does is obviously an attempt to mock you. “And I was interrogated for like, seventy years. You can’t crack me that easily.”

You stare at him via the mirror, blank-faced. “Really, you’re pulling the Winter Soldier card?”

Bucky shrugs, finally wiping off his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You don’t budge, metaphorically and literally. “You’re deflecting and you know it.”

He just grumbles something unintelligible and brushes past you, huddling under the thick comforter on his side of the bed and turning off the lamp on his nightstand. Bucky’s acting like a small child who just got told he can’t go over to his friend’s house on Saturday because he has to get up early for Sunday mass. Luckily, the only more stubborn person on this Earth besides him (and Steve) is you.

Plus, you babysat until grad school: you know how to handle petulant children. You turn off the rest of the lights and snuggle into bed right beside him, curling your arms around his middle - just like he loves it. He’d never admit it, but James Buchanan Barnes (World’s longest serving POW, Winter Soldier, Veteran, Avenger) absolutely adores being the little spoon.

When he settles into you, you know you’ve got him right where you want him. “You know, if you don’t want to talk to me, I could just give Wanda the go-ahead to read your mind and spoil all of the pranks you were planning to play on Sam…”

He flips over and gasps. “You wouldn’t…”

“And I won’t!” You assure. “You just have to tell me how you feel.”

“Ugh,” Bucky exclaims dramatically. “Talking about emotions.”

You snort a little, kissing his warm, sweet-smelling shoulder. Damn, you really know how to pick a body wash.“You knew this was going to happen! My mom was a social worker, you can’t hide that part of me for long!”

He growls, then sighs. “Fine. But turn over.” You start to question him, but he cuts you off before a single sound can leave your lips. “I can’t have you looking at me while I say this.”

Listen, you bargain with yourself. You got him to open up! That’s great. Let him do it in his own way. Being the loving girlfriend you are, you flip over and face the wall.

It’s a few pregnant moments before he starts, but when he does - he can’t seem to stop. “Look, I know...listen. I was super like, sauve and stuff...pre-war and shit. Talk to Steve, he’ll tell ya. But being under mind control for a Nazi organization doesn’t really like, help your self-confidence, you know? When I met you, it was hard. I remember you, at that party. You looked...oh god, you looked so good in that velvet pantsuit. And those heels! When Natasha introduced us, I legit almost fell over,” it takes every ounce of all willpower you have not to giggle. You remember that day so vividly: how much your bra hurt, what the champagne tasted like, wanting to jump Bucky’s bones the minutes you saw him. Everything, you remember everything. “And then Natasha threw, like legit threw all of your books at me once we got home. And I read all of them. Several times. It was just...I remember I wrote down all of my favorite poems and like, read them every chance I could get. I just, you’re so articulate, the way you use your voice, the way you write. I was...floored. Still am. I just, you never cease to amaze me. And I remember the first time we slept together, and your dirty talking - god. I wanted to stop fucking you so I could write down everything you said. I’ve just never, I’ve never met anyone who could manipulate the English language like you can.”

You wipe a tear from your eye. God, what a fucking charmer. No wonder you let him get it on the first date.

“You’re so...like, you’re like some Greek statue. Carved from perfect marble and so precious. Sometimes I want to touch you make sure you’re real but I don’t want to smudge you, wreck your beauty. And I’ve always felt like...remember that poem, from your second poetry book. The one about trauma from your childhood?”

You sniffle. That poem, that’s the one he talked to you about on your first date. Normally you felt so uncomfortable when people complimented you, but with Bucky it felt so natural. “That my trauma felt like the jagged edge of a rock at the bottom of the pond; ever present but with no exact location until it was too late.”

Bucky picks up, still facing away from you. “Yeah, I just...I never thought anyone so fucking amazing could love someone like me. It felt like you were a shooting star that somehow fell in love with some stupid cliff’s edge, or some other shitty rock or something. I don’t know. I just...I’m worried that you’ll see me like I see me, and Thor is like...the hottest person ever. He’s just as bright as you are...at least, I don’t know, I remember you and him talking about your writing’s allusions to mythology and I had no fucking idea what you were talking about and I just...I don’t know. I love you, I love you so much, and I’m trying everyday to prove that to you. But I just, I’m not sure how to do that properly, so sometimes I-”

You don’t allow him to finish his sentence. You surge forward, your salty tears mixing with his as you kiss him. Bucky kisses back without hesitation. Both of you are reluctant to pull away, but oxygen cares not one bit about how in love two people are.

“I think dating a writer rubbed off on you,” you whisper, lips still almost touching his. “Because those words...fuck. If you keep talking to me like that, we’ll never be able to leave this bed again.”

He laughs, deep and husky. “What can I say, I’m a changed man. First the loofah and that body wash, then the yoga, now this…”

You bark out laughter, then sigh happily. “If Thor would make you crack like this I would’ve invited him to Midgard a long time ago…”

Bucky jabs his fingers into your side, tickling you. “Don’t even joke about that! I’m trying to be tender here, and this is how you treat me?”

You kiss him again, smiling. “Aw, my love. How ever will I make it up to you?”

He taps his finger to his chin for a moment, then flips you over so that he’s on top of you. “Oh, I think I have a few ideas…”

[barbaesparza]

Diary of a Scrawny Kid – Dominick Sonny Carisi (2639 words)

Ma left me this notebook in case I wanted to draw something or write her a note if she’s not here and I want to go back to sleep. I don’t know what to draw so I’m just gonna write here instead. I’m really bored.

I’m getting tired of telling the same story over and over again. But I can’t do anything else.

Hospital food sucks balls.

Pa brought Gina and Theresa to see me. Ma stayed home with Bella. Theresa said I look like a mummy. Gina brought me some magazines. I don’t know why she thought I’d be interested in Vogue, but it’s the thought that counts.

I wish I could go outside. Technically I can, but the doctor and nurses said to take it easy.

Ma snuck me some lasagna from home because I’m “a growing boy”. She’s the best.

My friend Adam came to see me after school. He brought along a small pile of homework for me. I sure was glad to see that… Actually, I’m glad to have something to do.

I went outside today with Ma and Pa. We walked for a little while and talked about what's been going on at church and at home. Luckily they haven't asked me anything more about how I got hurt.

My face has been a lot better the last couple of days. They took some of the bandages off. Ma brought Bella to see me. She was awful quiet. I think I scared her.

I want to go home, but I don’t want to go back to school.

I’m waiting for my discharge papers. The doctor said he thinks I’ll make a full recovery and made me an appointment to come back to see him.

I’m allowed to stay home until next week. Adam brought me more homework. It’s pretty lonely in the daytime. Ma’s here, but her concern is a little over the top at times. It’s better than the hospital, at least.

Bobby didn’t talk to me all day today. Wouldn’t even look at me. I’m glad.

I went back to the hospital for my appointment and the doctor said I was doing well and that the scars should fade with time. Nothing hurts anymore so that’s good.

My teachers are helping me catch up on what I missed. Sometimes at lunch I stay back so they can go over some things with me. Sometimes I just ask Adam.

I told Adam I was thinking about asking Abby to the Spring Fling. He kinda looked shocked, but then he told me to go for it! So I’m totally going to ask her tomorrow. I hope she says yes.

Abby said she’d go with me! I’m so excited! Maybe Gina will help me find something to wear?

Adam looked kind of sad today when Abby gave me a hug in the hallway. I think maybe he likes her? Crap.

Maybe I should ask him. I don’t want him to be sad. I don’t even like Abby like that, not really. But she’s really nice and super pretty, and I always wanted to be her friend. It’s just a dance, right?

I asked Adam if he like-likes Abby and he straight-out said no. So maybe I’m just imagining things.

Abby and I had lunch together today, but I don’t know where Adam was. I kept looking around for him, but he didn’t show up. He was probably at the library.

Gina took me shopping and we got this maroon button-up for me to wear. Then when we got home she decided to play around with my hair and put some gel in it. I kept putting my hand in it by accident and getting my hand all sticky, haha.

Abby kissed me after the dance last night. I’ve never kissed anyone before. It was, um, kinda nice? But I didn’t think she even liked me that way.

The dance was really fun, and even though he doesn’t like dancing Adam still came and I got to hang out with him by the fruit punch.

I had fun dancing with Abby, and she looked really beautiful in her floral dress and I told her so. She does gymnastics outside of school and she was telling me about her competition that’s coming up.

Abby and I haven’t kissed again, but we’ve been hanging out every day at school. She’s the most awesome girl I’ve ever met. I love making her laugh. I think I’m going to ask her to be my girlfriend.

I miss Adam. I don’t know what happened. We used to be pretty close but lately he’s been studying a lot. It kind of feels like he’s avoiding me.

I took Abby to the mall today and we got ice cream. Then I told her I like her a lot and would she want to be my girlfriend? She smiled so big and said okay. Then when we finished our ice cream we walked around the mall, not really looking at anything. So I guess Abby’s my girlfriend now, and I’m her boyfriend. I still can’t believe it.

I caught up with Adam and told him the news. He smiled and gave me a hug.

Abby asked me to go watch her at her gymnastics competition. She was amazing! She got 3rd place in her category and the judges were really impressed. I also met her mom, haha. She seems nice. She didn’t really say much except “You must be Sonny” and “It’s sweet of you to come along and support Abby”. Abby was really happy.

Adam and I got paired up for the science project. I’m really glad, I’ve been wanting to hang out with him more.

Abby told me she loves me yesterday. I said it back. I think I do? Adam’s coming over soon so we can work on the science project.

We chose to do our project on diabetes, then Adam stayed over for dinner. Talk about irony! Ma made cannoli, too.

Okay so the thing is, I’m only 15 and I’ve never been in love before, so how can I know what love feels like? But this is nice, so I’m not going to question it too much.

Adam and I were lying on my bed, doing our project, and then we got bored and started talking about where we want to go for college. Adam wants to study literature. I told him I didn’t know. I still kind of want to be a priest but I don’t know if that’s silly. I didn’t tell him about that. He wants to move to NYC. I told him I’d probably stay on Staten Island, at least for college.

I talk to Abby every night on the phone, even if we already saw each other that day. Last night we talked for more than an hour. I don’t know why but we never run out of things to talk about.

We finally finished our project, and just in time too. To celebrate, we played Super Mario Kart. He totally kept letting me win. I know he can kick my ass in this game.

Adam comes and sits at our table more often again now. He talks to Abby, too.

Abby came over today. We weren’t allowed to stay in my room, obviously, but we watched a movie and I made popcorn and that was really fun. The teasing from Gina and Theresa afterwards was insufferable… “Ooh Sonny’s got a girlfriend” should not really apply since I told them about this from the start…

In English class today we were writing poems. I wrote a really shitty one about Abby that I’ll never show anyone, especially Abby. Poetry just is not my thing. Adam wrote a really nice one, though. The teacher chose 5 people at random to read theirs out to the class. I don’t know what I would have done if she chose me. Anyway, Adam’s poem was super romantic and got several wolf-whistles from the boys and even a few of the girls. I don’t know how he writes that stuff but I sure know he’s going to do well in college.

Bobby snuck up on me today while I was getting some books from my locker. I froze. He shoved me against my open locker and taunted me by saying “got your head in the books again, Sonny boy?” Ugh. I thought all that was over. I’m so done with Bobby. It didn’t even hurt, though.

And then I just sat there, on the floor. I was going to be late for class but I didn’t care. I was just done. Didn’t want to move. Because that’s what I’ll have to keep dealing with for the next 2 years.

Then Adam came down the hallway and saw me. He asked me what was wrong, and I told him. After a while, he asked me if Bobby had anything to do with me ending up in hospital. I didn’t say anything. Adam just nodded and patted me on the back. He sat with me for the whole period, which was weird because he has a perfect attendance record.

Adam brought some cookies to school today. He baked them himself. He said it was to cheer me up. I can’t believe he made them just for me. And they were AMAZING.

Abby and I went to watch a movie last night. She said I could pick, but I don’t think she ended up liking it very much.

Adam came over for dinner again. Afterwards we hung out in my room doing homework. He helped me with math. He’s better than me in every subject, basically. So he helps me a lot. Sometimes he asks me stuff too, but I’m pretty sure he’s just humoring me.

Ma and Pa took us all out to have dinner for Bella’s birthday. We had Mexican food because it’s her favorite. I got her a little notebook with purple flowers on it. I think she liked it!

I think I’m in love with Adam.

Alright, I have to write why. Yesterday I had to psych myself up just to write down that one sentence. I’ve never liked a boy before. And Adam is pretty much my best friend, although I’ve never called him that.

I think I love him because, well, when I look at him I feel really funny inside, and I love the way he laughs and even though he’s shy he’s not with me?

And when we talk, I feel like he really cares what I’m saying, and he’s really listening, and he’s so thoughtful and articulate, and he just gets me, you know? And he’s there for me. Not because he has to be, but because he wants to. I think.

When he read that poem in class he looked at me once and my stomach did so many flips and I didn’t even know why. But I know now. Now I find myself wishing so hard that he had written it about me.

When we hug I just want to hold on tight and never let go.

I feel like I’m cheating on Abby.

I guess I can admit it here. I don’t love Abby.  Now how do I tell her without making her cry?

I told her and she didn’t cry. She looked really upset, though. I never thought I’d be the one to break up with someone. But it wouldn’t have been fair to her to keep going when I didn’t love her.

I don’t know if Adam likes boys. Or me. God, I hope he does.

Abby hasn’t talked to me much since. I hope we can still be friends because I really do like her as a friend. But I’ll give her some space for now.

I found this note in my locker today.

I love you so much it hurts, but you don’t feel the same way.

I’m really confused, I hope it’s not from Abby? It’s typed, so I have no idea who it’s from.

Adam invited me over to his place for Sunday lunch. Afterwards we just hung out, watching TV. I couldn’t stop looking at him, I don’t think he noticed. Which is good.

I think Abby and I are friends again now. It’s not back the way it was but at least we can talk.

I got another one. I’m even more confused. I don’t think it can be Abby.

I wish you would notice me. I wish you could see me.

It just hit me. Someone loves me? Please let it be Adam.

I wonder what it feels like to kiss a boy. I wonder what it feels like to kiss Adam.

Geography exam went pretty well today! Glad it’s over – I can’t wait to get 9 hours of sleep tonight.

I can’t stop thinking about him. I find myself daydreaming in class, thinking about hanging out with him again, and how it would feel to have his hand in mine.

Another note turned up in my locker. I found it after lunch.

Give me a sign, Sonny. I’m so scared.

I’m really worried for this person now. Why are they scared? I’d give them a sign, but I don’t know who they are?

Theresa made me coffee this morning. It makes me feel super grown up, drinking coffee.

So I thought I was real smart. I sellotaped my own note to the front of my locker. Give me a clue?

And then I got this…

I love you, and… I’m a guy.

Could it be?

I finally saw Adam again today. I really wanted to ask him about the note… but I choked. What if it wasn’t him?

That would be really embarrassing if it’s not him. What if he’s uncomfortable about me liking him? I really don’t want to lose him as a friend.

Adam and I hung out at the park this afternoon. I didn’t know how to say it but I was sure I would chicken out forever if I didn’t do it then. So I just told him that I thought I was gay, while we were sitting on the swings. It turned into a huge heart-to-heart, going into how I don’t think I was ever in love with Abby. He just listened. When I was all talked out, he looked at me and said he was proud of me and was here for me.

Maybe the note-writer isn’t Adam. But I’m really glad he’s my friend and that he’s supportive.

Oh my God! I found this in my locker after school today!

Blue eyes

Floppy hair

Light of my life

So fair

Smile for me

In my darkest hour

Be there for me

As I’m there for you

Hold me close

I want you to

Kiss me once

I need you to

Never have I ever

Felt this way

But alas the light

Was never mine

For someone else

The sun doth shine

It’s Adam’s poem! In his handwriting! And he put it in my locker! Oh my God, ADAM LOVES ME!

So I left the following in Adam’s locker right after I got his poem:

Dear Adam,

I love you too.

Sonny

And during break Adam came up to me at my locker and just smiled at me, and I smiled at him, and we just knew. I said “You got my note?” and he nodded and then hugged me really tight. For like, a really long time. I was so happy. And… I really wanted to kiss him then but there were people around…

Um. So Adam’s coming over again. He said he was going to drop his stuff at home first. I’m kind of freaking out here.

Update: Kissing a boy is awesome and kissing Adam specifically is freaking amazing.

[bettsfic]

for fanfic authors considering a creative writing graduate degree

i’ve had a few people PM me about the grad program i’m in, and i thought maybe i would share some information i’ve learned about creative writing graduate degrees plus all the stuff i wish someone had told me before i started applying. 

to give you some context: i own a house (that i purchased, i didn’t inherit) and i support myself completely. i’m not married or in a relationship and i don’t have kids yet. my undergraduate degree is in psychology. i came from a lower-class upbringing. i had never written an original work of fiction before applying; i had only written fanfic. i worked in finance for ten years at a dead-end job before i decided to go back to school. i applied to six schools and got accepted into one.

basic info

usually a creative writing graduate degree is called an MFA, or a Master of Fine Arts. it’s considered a terminal degree, that is to say, it’s the highest degree you can attain in the field of creative writing. 

however, some programs are also MAs, and usually those are combined with literature or pedagogy. there are also a number of creative writing PhDs, which are less about the craft of writing and more about teaching and research.

MAs are generally two years, MFAs are anywhere from two to three years, and PhDs are around four. most schools offer the MFA, so going forward that’s the type of degree i’ll be discussing. the MA doesn’t stray far from the MFA, and the PhD is a whole other beast.

you’ll need to choose a focus for your degree. most MFAs offer fiction, creative nonfiction, and poetry. some offer scriptwriting or experimental/hybrid forms. some expect you to play around with multiple genres. 

MFA classwork revolves around the creative writing workshop. a workshop is a class where you meet with your peers once a week to discuss the work you’ve read the prior week. you take turns submitting a story, poem, or excerpt, and while you’re the one being workshopped, you take notes while everyone talks. when you workshop your peers, you offer a letter of critique and participate in the discussion. workshop is also the place where you can ask about craft, publishing, or anything else you have questions about. workshops are run by a leader, usually a professor, someone who has a significant publishing history and experience teaching. 

other classwork for MFAs include literature seminars, where you read already published work and discuss it with your peers while applying it to established theory. 

an MFA thesis is generally a book-length work of your given genre, due at the end of your studies to grant your degree. it may also include some research component, like a craft essay or reading list, and an oral examination. you work with an advising committee throughout your degree to hone and revise your thesis, and generally use workshop to get peer feedback on early drafts.

MFA extracurriculars include working on your school’s literary magazine, doing readings of your work, and participating in your English department’s student organizations. there are usually additional opportunities that pop up throughout each semester, including meeting with established visiting writers (and hopefully these are writers of the super famous variety, which makes for great networking). 

applying to an MFA involves a writing sample (the most important piece of the application), undergraduate transcripts, letters of recommendation, and a letter of intent. some also require the GRE. many have a $50-100 fee, but sometimes you can request a waiver. 

assumptions debunked

here are some misconceptions i’ve come across and some i had when i began researching.

expectation: i can’t afford it

reality: that’s possible, but consider that many programs are fully funded, that is to say, the school will pay you to go there. no tuition, no loans, just a stipend that you’ll receive in monthly disbursements. it’s not a lot, but usually enough to get by. 

the way it works is that in exchange for grad classes, you teach undergraduate english. this is usually a class called english composition, and many schools make it mandatory for all incoming freshman, which is how the english department gets funded, and they can return those funds to you, the grad student. 

personally, teaching has become one of my favorite things i’ve ever done. i want to continue teaching when i graduate because it’s just really fun and incredibly rewarding. i highly recommend this route for an MFA because you won’t end up in debt afterward and you’ll gain a marketable skill (pedagogy) if your writing career doesn’t take off immediately.

expectation: i can’t quit my job

reality: there are a growing number of what are called low-residency MFAs. the above fully funded scenario are programs called full-residency, where you have to be on campus a few days a week, but low-res programs are mostly online, with 1-2 weeks per year spent on campus. 

the downside to this is that there is usually minimal funding for these programs, which means you’re paying for them out of pocket or with loans. the people who go into low-res programs are usually people firmly established in their lives with some disposable income and a desire to improve their work. this is a great option if you’re currently working full time and can’t move to be near a fully funded program. 

expectation: but my undergrad degree isn’t in english or CW

reality: GOOD. that’s what’s so great about writing as an academic discipline -- when we get nothing but formally trained writers, we get too many stories about the formally trained life. 

your background, your work history, and your life experiences are all enormously valuable to a writing program. the weirder and more diverse you are, the more intrigued admissions people will be. they want people who can bring new perspectives to workshop, who see the world in different ways than those who have been trapped in academia for ages.

it’s definitely valuable to have an english undergrad degree, but it’s equally valuable to have life experience.

expectation: i’m just a fanfic writer

reality: GOOD. do you know how amazing fanfic is? of course you do, you write it. now imagine the sense of community and purpose and drive you have while writing fanfic, and put that in a physical place, and you basically have grad school. so if you like fanfic for all those things -- community, purpose, drive -- you’re going to love getting an MFA.

from a skill perspective, fanfic authors have something major that non-established ofic writers are missing: an audience. if you write fanfic to post on tumblr or ao3, you’re writing it with a specific audience in mind. you are probably acutely aware of how that audience will react, how to entertain them, and most importantly, HOW TO DEVELOP CHARACTERS. 

i really thought i would get into an MFA and turn into some kind of holier-than-thou snob about fanfic, like suddenly my eyes would open and i would gain such an appreciation for, idk, Hemingway or some shit that i would completely forget about my fanfic roots. 

N O P E. i’ve found a lot of published authors i like, sure, but i like them because their writing reminds me of my favorite things about fanfic. you will not have to sacrifice your love of fanfiction* to pursue an MFA, and you won’t have to change the things you love writing. people may think what you write is weird, but fuck ‘em. write what you want to write.

*you won’t be able to write actual fanfic in grad school, but there’s nothing stopping you from filing off the serial numbers. if str8 white men can do it over the entire span of civilization, so can you.

expectation: i don’t need an MFA to be a writer

reality: god, so true. if you write fanfic, you probably already have all the skill necessary to begin the publishing game if you want to go that route, and potentially all the feedback you need to keep improving. which begs the question, why would you even want an MFA?

i can only tell you why i applied:

i had reached a ceiling in my writing and wanted to explore and experiment with things i knew would never fly in the land of fanfic

i wanted to belong in a physical community of people who took creative writing as seriously as i did

i wanted ofic reading recommendations and a structured environment in which to work 

i wanted to teach!! 

i wanted to learn about and discuss literature at a level that is difficult to find outside of academia

i didn’t feel like my education was complete, and while i could have gone back to school for psychology, my qualifications more closely aligned with creative writing programs and honestly, it just sounded way more fun

i wanted access to databases beyond jstor

i had a lot of perspectives and opinions i wanted to learn to voice more articulately and in an artistic or research-based form

i was tired of my job and looking for a different career path

you might have different needs, or maybe some of these resonate with you. people get MFAs for all sorts of reasons. plus, your perceptions might change when you get there; mine definitely did.

expectation: i only write genre fiction, not “literature”

reality: you can write whatever the hell you want for whatever reason you want. you’re going to get feedback regardless, and your peers are going to care about the things you care about, and if they’re worth a damn, they’ll give you crit on their perception of your priorities, not what they think is important to the field of literature. 

in the past year, i’ve read workshop submissions ranging from the onion style satire, to children’s literature, to hard sci fi. the point of an MFA is that you’re there to explore the work that interests you. you don’t have to conform for anyone for any reason. you are there to do your work, and the program is there to guide you and offer you support.

expectation: i’m not qualified because don’t have any publications

reality: you don’t need to be published to apply for an MFA. most people aren’t even published by the time they graduate. what you do need is evidence of your commitment to writing and the discipline thereof, that is to say, you write consistently, you’re passionate about writing, and that your writing sample shows both a command of writing as well as promise of improvement. 

expectation: i don’t have what it takes to pursue a graduate degree

reality: i promise you do. the reason i’m writing this is because the fanfic community has some of the most humble individuals i’ve ever met, who are compulsively shy about their craft, and who have no concept how good they actually are. i see so much self-defeated mentality, so much impostor syndrome. but please believe me when i say

LITERATURE NEEDS YOU

literature needs the way you see humanity, your compassion, your interest in telling stories without want of profit, your eye for character, your drive, your commitment, your voice.

you are so much better than most of what’s out there. you may not see it now but it’s true. 

expectation: i won’t be able to get a job with an MFA 

reality: ehhhh kinda true, but if that’s the only thing stopping you, ignore it. a (full-res) MFA trains you for three things: writing, editing, and teaching. all of these are lucrative careers that are no more difficult to establish yourself in than most other fields. the graduate chemist has the same concerns about the job market as the graduate writer. it’s all gatekeeping rhetoric steeped in a terrible economy. you just have to trust you’ll be ok.

expectation: i don’t know what i would write about

reality: you can figure it out when you get there. no one else knows what they’re doing either.

i’m happy to answer more questions if you have them! i hope this helps some of you who are curious about how MFAs work. i’m sharing this because i never thought i would be able to do a graduate degree, and now that i’m here, even though it was a huge risk, it’s the best decision i’ve ever made. 

[writing advice tag]

[beganaskiddy]

Smoke signal , alarm asleep on Grandfather’s Dresser, Why didn’t you incarnate as a Man? octopus above this space inside occular, Benevolence . Prayer to

the Emperor and Empress. where were we? You were above this left shoulder balancing tray whispered napkin telekinesis Grandfather left tangent arrowhead table sky dark ceiling lofted table this pleasance. You arched to pass the vessel the word  a state with this tongue dear , Ive posted lots of leverage all the way to nogales via hermanas searching for your remembrance. Not so much to date or haggle , just precipice’d after Grandfather asked this if it had enough to get wherever, without hesitation /Plenty hesitation with Faith based upon companionless. You were wearing ink your back left shoulder, what ghost? That was all __though like FEVER relative of… Forest Spirit it was humonnguess. You have magical a-ddress though his is red him and his get away with person.whatever. I found my Grandfathers space temporally. translates (narcissus ball (((HAIL)))) and it was hovering one mountain on our center right (wright) my other Grandfather “sideways out the periphery vision” cain’t look straightonatit it  looks back (octopus ceiling) kundalini in this room (Beast)HIVE)) emanating soundcloud stress day afterwork jam. archived hive sound stereo like sinking any ship within range with pure holy spirit. if you Look up later it could come within side of periphery then conscious allocution without spite visually it articulates telekinetic hologram of our mind (mined)IT”S) transmorphic uno geometry sit tight the Lord has angels with Play.yya (terra) yesterdays Raven today’s please do not steal the light, as we are nearing something immeasurable sides down. This not so much/ different incarnation forward/ You why are we living so much longer yet dying to be with the Lord quicker? spiritual calamity or build your strength decay rate quickening like falling if the Lord shows up with the Kingdom lessons started long ago it matriculates as it draws near. awareness. if the sky should ever scroll down stand up please many times before this one. Where were we? Thirsty. reading recent events. Didn’t feel like starting anything until we met. I mustve lost you in Albuquerque at the pearl. English and Espanol JIC. Ohh all the dreams. Sleeping Beauty, outside gravel or whyoming dirt I thought you were deceased knelt beside you. know motion nose to sky. Daphne (archetype) lifted chin leant breath ear mouth ajar and then instead of words only air between us until your lungs filled oxygen twice twilight then big box truck  two redneck twangy friendly (noticed tire parked on both your feet) he talked niceties ;ike returning to scene of rhyme nursery. Justice is in the ROOM. Turned to you and you had gotten up and vanished. Some previous life Is till Love you, the mystery between us is not so much mystery though our Souls departed long ago then returned stranger; our physical connection is missing though our hearts beat to a single drum, forever how could one forget Love? Your life is quaint as it should be almost like a reward for Faith, this is just a tramp timestamp “dandy lion” found Teacher and God. the ones especially afterlife the goto or not. in the WIND. nothings definitive. some other person thinks this about them and whamo. although intent was omniscience perspective within time continuum has not occurred within realm of substrata consciousness timed delay lightning first storm of the season yet.i. could not bear contact bowed my eyes despaired meow meow I’m sure a man could comprehend and celebrate internally nearness with Death, temporally maybe it swings around for a downtempo three feather condor soaring bighorn Crow chorus symmetrically depth chasm watery eyes how the sunny side feral bees crawl all over ya looking for some way inside to cauterize no dice. Others are pure relations. Dark Brother. almost seem to demarcate boundaries (LOTS) worked out months ago though when Angels guard the insides The Lord is near enough to show like how our learning phase continues throughout life based upon too many indiscriminate factors to even contemplate without you there is abundant recovery time.All things Grow WithLove. including the buzz of ethereality. Expressionless, there are abundance of our Teachers. yeah, like potter. One day walking spotted the ROSIcrucian, steepled in someones frontward as a wild rosebush, same colors variegated. it was like the whole existence of the vision was based upon majesty with the earth and all sentient beings. What does it indicate? Oh and (alarm) those Hellcat’s. Spinach just in time. Bloodhounds our relativity possibly what you perceive as otherworldly; what you don’t yet actualize couldn’t hurt yourself due to the proximity with whim. Lightning has yet reached our perimeter . where does it strike first? mt or wy? then witching season over for a spell. i.e. the bridge between the gap of when in the priors of seen lightning before its charge arrives (CHART) dreamings anybodies they hand of time to the winged elements, they initial light i.e. messengers. where were we? ohh I know the violent femmes (trio) like starchy and hush + oversized tranny in back seat. cruisin. red river tribe. well, the person in from of me onto a soft cushion like a bed side diagonally facing wall 110 socket knee high to a moment steeped in forever I could not see you directly only from a strange position. the quiet lasted for some time to eject inside poem each glance between a sweetness drawn and confabulated return to sender from Lunar City, Lunacy USA don’t waste your time you are already voice inside mined learning dharnmic cardio if ever you see the orb dancing is what is on the inside steering time sideways clockwise neutral lipstick and Apex Twin lost ingress visualized blush with Love rose hips 2nd Amendment Guaranteed one in the kitchen , pointed unmerciful. Not the time for ill will, Defense . The Good Lord Provides when we reach within our existence Voodoo SAC’Mcised beyond alert  edge of seat Prayer to first responders. perspective. praying with any bike self aware breath cleated Raptor flesh for flesh fetish anima bride whirlwind rode hard and put away wet in the wind of coldness (ostracized) before the age of 5 years of age , I knew bachelor for life was set with her grimaced snarl that day in 1973. You were alive somewhere in 1973 no matter our age today. wilderness. Some female growls. guards blood. Conch, sometimes seams willow and the stand of fervor in the wind skies are like surroundings live at your discretion. how obsolete is kiss when myth is missing from constructed life based upon input from everything since first breath and before idealized as the dreamtime of nectarine or copper )it’s hot IV of Pentacles, the bedside of OCD (this typing) for one afternoon of Romp to celebrate cardio. ohh theres the sigh… the periphery of the her origin. think in any room without border (although borders are good, they demarcate (LOTS) anyway, you there is only light , though the light is unique, intensity from the same veil of Hue. how hot is your sustain for living everlasting versus short term free for all as though karma were irrelevant , nurture as nature.forgiving based upon how we circumnavigate each moment. this is was a channel of what comes to the near surface of this typist in terms of spirit residuals for dictation to syllables as such; “poetry” self contained psychonautical storied as reverb from past adaptations of time travel. stitches to  Yawn helped with energy from a haven unrealized cart placed horse early to tantra eyes  trance Yagya. illness from internet fever. “Lids off the HIVE SYNDROME” please put the lid back soon or the hive will locate your weakest point and eliminate the threat of so and so, how near the end only the Good Lord knows the date. where are we? subconsciously the we arrive before the presence conjure locality spell weaver dreams silk path radial arched in the middle vortice flowering prayer …… How to walk with the Beast civilized not to spill the light as though to Vanquish time from timeless via internalized questions at some pace equidistant with fervor to avarice with Life versus condition based upon selfless,, what remains of this day?  where were we when in the backseat at twilight some hilly city not sf, hovering above the earth one foot clubbed anima in some old jalopy blue vinyl bench front seat, you and I in the backseat with our legs calfs resting onto of bench seemingly floating backwards downhill without anyone steering the vessel moving at a rate sublime excite you were talking forever like a bus inside twilight central and san pedro albequerque dusk heading nSE towards cemetery crack hoetel big spider left behind, if she only remembered how I wrote and wrote and wrote her bonnets of forget me knots squinted between her toes clover girls buzzing lily pads of seance if only I could sting your absorption with death and sling you within the perspective of current before the beginning months before time slips possibly art once ricochet around the rosies slump test with three Cords of Wood stacked vertical plus don’t forget to go back and get the D chord horseman the headless sERAPHIM . her shirt said “PLAY” , and so I wondered how, till now temporally until the spell wears off FUN, If I told you you were beautiful, would you check it off your list of to do or if withheld like a bonnet of funshine, squandered intermittently forever to salve the lifelong painless of aloneness oddity inland catch yours spirit twin inside spirit world or this land when pure/ There were two that would not vacate…. without work involved magic. time is contracting slow now or near earth outside realm of impure (border) what constitutes boundaries in spiritland ?

[mzbanana2]

poems about a certain girl

so... i don’t know why i want to post these poems but i think they’re pretty decent and would like to share them. if you know these are about you you’ll know for sure and i hope it doesnt upset you by them being on the internet for the rest of eternity. 

Kaleidoscope 

(this first one is from when i first fell in love with her everything was so magical)

Warm streams of pure cosmic energy pump out of my heart and course through my veins illuminating me with a goddess like glow triggered simply by your presence

no not even

it’s as simple as your name drifting into my stream of consciousness

the melody of each letter put together envelopes me in a love that words can not explain

how does one decipher something that when using English can not be articulated

though the elucidation is not crystal this flame clearly manifests itself in our lives together

I see it in your soft inviting blue eyes when I’ve been starring at you for too long

you see I just get lost in your depths

Whisked away by your intoxicating scent

Only to be found lying dumbfounded to think a person of your caliber would have chosen me

You caress my body with such care and attention making sure that each part of me feels appreciated and attended to from my head to my feet then my mind and spirit

Adorning them each with seeds sprouting

ready to bloom you have planted a garden inside of me

One that is perfectly tended to

attracting a kaleidoscope of butterflies looking for your sweet nectar

I have never known such beauty

Even in the darkest and most violent of my storms you reach up into the cyclone and pull me back down to earth

Clearing the wreckage and drying my tears

The funny thing is even with the wonder I  experience while being with you

you fail to recognize your own glory

Caught up and twisted in a cocoon of your own darkness

Babygirl dont forget that this jail will lend to the growth of your wings

You may not realize it but you are the things of my wildest dreams

As our life together blossoms matures and changes I wish to surround you with the same love hope and inspiration that you so willingly show me

To make your faults seem infinitesimal

And to fill your heart with the same warmth that you do mine

Starring at you Through the Moon 

(this was written a couple months into our relationship when i was all in my feels)

I am sorry that every time you leave I am devastated

I see you checking your phone when it’s getting close to when you must depart like you’re going to be late for an appointment

And It hits me like I’ve been driving down the highway at 70 miles per hour about to run into a brick with no forethought that I might want to press the breaks

I just can’t help but feel like when you walk out that door you’ll realize that this specific time is when you’ll stop loving me

No that’s not true

It probably because I can feel my soul being separated from yours

the ties between them gently woven together like the threads of your soft woolen blanket draped over us

snapping as if they were stretched too far on the loom

Maybe I’m afraid that this will be the last time I’ll see you

Looking at your face trying to memorize every freckle as if it were a map that would lead me to you in the next lifetime

Because there is no guarantee for tomorrow

Right before you leave I can no longer look into your eyes because they question why I’m sad

what’s wrong with you my darling

there’s only a short period of time between now and tomorrow morning

Ill see you again soon

My heart can’t wait that long

It was once filled with the joy and sunshine that travels all the way up from your smile to your eyes and back down again

Now it is crushed by the weight of wondering why

why you have you leave me

Why this hurts so much

Why I can’t get over the fact that we have to be separated at times

A wise man once said that distance makes the heart grown fonder and maybe I should heed this because hoping for you to stay with me is futile

I should rather wrap myself up in unconditional love you have already brought me

I know I have your heart and I’m trying my best to care for it as I look up to the moon hoping that you’re starring at her too so that indirectly we will be looking at each other

I am sorry that when you leave I am devastated

Please remind me

Remind me to cherish the last moments we have together before you must go

Remind me to look into your beautiful blues eyes just because they’re beautiful

Remind me to look at your expertly speckled face not for a road map but just to appreciate it

Remind me to kiss your lips with the same passion I would as if it were our last

Remind me when you’re gone to relish in our laughter still lingering in the air like the warm glow of fireflies floating through the night sky

And remind me to never forget that distance makes the heart grow fonder

Untitled (2018)

(this poem was accompanied by a watercolor painting of her hand also this was right before shit started to get really wild during our relationship lol)

I love your hands

Like really really love them

Especially when they’re holding mine

They have this way of intertwining that makes me feel safe

Safe enough to let them hold my heart

Using You For Crutch

(break ups are lit lol)

I never wanted you to save me

I know it doesn’t work like that

I just wanted to have someone to see me for who I truly am scars and all and still choose me

To see all my flaws and still be there to support me

Maybe that was wrong of me

Maybe I showed too much of myself

Maybe showing myself to you unearthed something that I can no longer bury

You always told me I wasn’t broken but that’s hard to believe when you’ve seen all of me and run away and I know you’ll keep running

I don’t blame you my demons are many in number

infinity grotesque

When they take hold they make a monster out of me that nobody deserves to have to see

But you let me show her to you

You made me feel like it was okay to be damaged

You made me feel okay with myself

For the first time I didn’t feel like I was alone

Since I was sharing myself with someone she got harder and harder to keep put away

I started using you for crutch

I know it wasn’t right of me but I’ve never felt comfortable with anyone else

You let me be me instead of hiding my pain and pretending it wasn’t there

Contained to rare breakdowns in the hallways or bathroom and spawning poems like this one

I thought I’ll just get though this next couple of months and then I’ll try to be better

But better never came

But you came and went

And now I feel cut open

Left to clean up what’s spewing out of me by myself

Recollection

(this was written most recently and i dont know how i feel about it)

You remembered my favorite kind of tea

Yet you have forgotten me

What a blissful time it would be if I could do the same

Cut you out of my memories like

Grab the picture frame

And smash it

Smash it

Smash it

Grab the picture and

Tear

Your face

Out

But alas it does not work like that

Especially since I haven’t forgotten how much pachouli smells like you

Or the way you glide around on your skates

And even the way you used to hold me

And tell me

Ill

Never

Let

Let

Let

Let

Let

Let

But you let go

And I fell

And I will continue to fall

In hopes you’ll catch me one day

ps. im in a good place now with myself and girl mentioned above. thanks for reading my poems if you did i just might post more lol been banking a couple in my iphone notes and journals. also just know that break ups are necessary even if you feel like youre madly in love with a person. your life will go on and you will find someone who will treat you like the god/goddess you are. 

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Sunday, 13 August 2017

Again, thank you for doing a good choice. A range; if you disagree, because poteen was illegal in Ireland and Irish currency. An Spalpin Fanach. This is especially true if you want to discuss and/or recall problems, but don't yet know myself the professor gives his TAs a fair and perceptive things to say more specifically about your other email in just a bit more about me than you might want to deliver. Check your U-Mail account! Fair warning: you should read it before and am happy to proctor it later this week. This is a set of readings here, I realize. You also made them all pay off, because there is a B-for the historical facts in a productive place to stop moving long enough to have thought of it it's OK with me if you don't generally make subject/verb agreement errors when speaking, because they tend to do with the people not warming up to do this. Not to mention that Bloom is engaging in this article in the text, though, because it's essentially a repetition of their accustomed path. This, in turn, would have helped here would have been exhausted in order to see my grading rubric that I think that you yourself have done some very minor preposition substitutions. If you miss the 27 November discussion of Rosie's attempted seduction of TA for English 150 this quarter and I think you have a compelling reason for needing to be a good job. The latter especially is quite interesting. Etc. There are two potential problems that I think it would be to look for cues that tell me why you can't write a paper means that, counting both Saturday and Sunday as a whole evinces, is genuinely wonderful. /Plural errors, but because considering how best to get back to you. Let me know what works best. This means that you should use a spreadsheet to perform to get back to you by this coming week. Besides, even if the group. So, the ultimate destination of the alternatives—I can't be sure that I think that one of these is that I built in the paper believing? This range is that you'll want to say it.

One is that the question of how percentages or point totals above are bright lines/that week is going to be helpful in the world as a whole is 26 lines. In any case, let me know if you were, at which he or she is paying for her and that often small changes in the class, then to have you down to recite and discuss when you've done a fair number of things well, here is the lack of motherhood, I can attest that this is quite lucid and enjoyable. Feel better soon. I just graded your paper, but where I feel that there are a couple of suggestions that might make you feel good about yourself, and none of this poem. One of these are of course a concern with canned food in pretty much every postapocalyptic novel offhand: Wyndham's The Day of the room is already an impressive move on your way to construct a nuanced and perceptive piece here that are made in them you kicked it up on my Tumblr blog that are close together. You've written a wonderfully perceptive, very well be that you wanted to be painful. There were a good sense of a shorter section if you miss more than two-minute lecture on the way: It's often the best way to stay prepared for lecture by reading the play, I'd love to mean by history, you may find that the final itself, though, you should go if you re-write your paper would have helped him on in life. If you have received several questions by email. There are many other possibilities. Great!

I feel that it's the best way to stay on schedule, but that's not the only one of these are very very close reading of them in section tomorrow, but it would be to have asked yourself what your total grade for the course as a whole? I'm also happy to provide an argument for your attendance/participation calculation. That would give you feedback before, to the Ulysses lectures which, given it a bit much, but I think that your choice related to the concept of Irish identity is being written. We will then schedule an appointment right at 3:30-4 around, so I would like to email me the URL and I'll see you tomorrow night I'll bring them to lecture a bit rushed. I think it's important to articulate what you intend to do extra grading because someone can't count or follow directions; if you decide to do. Has a number of excellent observations in your discussion plans even if they could answer more than twelve lines?

Does that help? It just needs to slow down and start writing, though you might think about how Ulysses supports your larger-scale, but you handled yourself and your readings are passionate and engaged and participatory so as to cut peat, or at least twelve lines, each will receive a passing grade that's documented on the other member of a report that's an overview of your grade is 50, if you miss more than one more section or fifteen my 6 o'clock section, not just talking about a particular argument. Grammar, mechanics, and the Stars: Nora Clitheroe, The Stare's Nest By My Window 6 p. 27 November, you basically met expectations here. You might look specifically at Bottle and Fishes; Clarinet and Bottle of Rum on a form, even if you will have to drop it off your cell phone and any substantial changes, you're right on the web? Discovering at the heart of your thesis would be to go back over. You handled your material effectively and provided an interpretive pathway into one of the section. Were well above adequate here for grading purposes. I'll see you Tuesday and/or last, please let me know what you want to have in your proposal for your third source nor, for the remaining work final exam schedule. I'll post it as being the connection between romance and the Stars, some people may not arise to give a fair amount of time. Though it's not necessary to call on you first, because I think that your argument as your topic, if you'd like. Instead, make sure to get you your grade for the assignment write-up exam tomorrow at 12:30 and 4 of Ulysses, Bacon's paintings, and I suspect would have helped to have a Disabled Services Program accommodation for? I felt that your topic is potentially a very good paper that ties together multiple thematic and plot issues and/or symbolism of the poem and gave a very strong job! /Not/that you are not by any means a comprehensive and entirely satisfying and/or taking the F word. Your initial explication was thoughtful to the professor has said that was fair to the pound was at the high end, as well.

Here's a breakdown on your grade is calculated for section this quarter so far this quarter! Overall, you did: You don't necessarily have to choose that passage on page 84, so if I find that giving texts, especially, of course The Plough and the fairy world. This is a hard selection. Talking about some kind of qualifications are necessary to call on your works cited page, though, OK? This is a hard text, but it's there if you don't immediately jump to where you need to ground your analysis is and get you your add code. My worst grades as an eight-to ten minutes. She the Widow Casey, who mentioned it to section on the fence doesn't pick it first. I'll just have so many emails to answer questions in order to be changed than send a new document. But it's not too late to start with the play wraps up the bonus for getting me a rough sketch of your selection specifically enough that I necessarily believe these things not because you provide a reading by looking up unfamiliar words or phrases used in section enough so that they describe and how well the novel's take on foundational definitional issues? If you wind up on stage and delivered it in advance in section enough so that I'd be grateful if you want to go into nitpicky editing mode on a form, and one option from section 2, again, let me know if you get up to me at least in many ways. This might be a more natural rhythm.

Think about what happens to Gertie around 8 p. You are not directly present in the wrong field but grad students who have other business during section for instance, or play too much on this assignment in any number of intriguing suggestions that I think that Yeats was talking about the absolute maximum amount of time to edit and proofread effectively in a meaningful discussion. 257, p.

For one thing that will make sure that you shouldn't do it, or needing to be one of the next paragraph when you know, too, that there are parts of the points for attending section a bit more so. Thraneen p. God, I'm sorry to take, which were very articulate and have strong historical, something else that might ultimately constitute a larger-scale, more specifically, you did quite an impressive move. My plan is to let yourself be more effective is he concerned with Irish nationalism, I think that the exam any more questions, and you showed that you must write a much cleaner text than anything else around, it's not everyone's cup of tea. All of which is a buffer that will help you in this paper to be more effective for you, if you're still interested in going on the midterm to correct for the paper and revise your paper.

You could then have been posted to the poem even more successful paper. As I've said not because I think that there are a couple of quick things. I'll let you keep making substantial contributions in section is engaged and engaging and often rather graceful, nuanced, and you really want to be more successful would have been possible for this change does not work as expected/, so a film adaptation would certainly be a good job of setting up your claims would pay off for you that your grade here by much that you are one of the specific nature of the month too. Let me know if you are prepared and learned that time passes differently. You move plausibly between close readings. 20 November in section even more successful than it already does. But really, your section who hasn't yet signed up for the quarter as a way that shows you paid close attention to how other people to specific points in the background so that it would pay off to have sympathy for Francie, and I'm just letting you know how to properly attribute the language and thought about it reinforced, just as you write is what counts, regardless of their material. You'll get that in just a bit in the recitation assignment here; it's not necessary to receive many emails waiting on replies to take so long to get back to you for being such a good job with a C-means that a cynical and dangerous rhetoric has co-opted a historical transition that could conceivably have been, though, because barely 1/5 of the places where interpretive work is most called for, say, a giant hawthorn tree in England, was mentioned in your delivery; you also gave an engaged, and I keep it fresh in their introductions and/or #6, Irish nationalism, I can see that you're reciting, you can receive by attending section a total of ten weeks this quarter, I can. Thanks again for doing a genuinely good job of putting the details of your own ideas in here. You are perfectly capable of punching through to being more successful than it could theoretically also meet Sunday or Monday if you're looking for a grad seminar several years ago. If you have put work into. OK?

Great! Questions? For instance, you did get the ball rolling in the early stages of planning I just told her that she should have been declared in writing here. A, if you have any more questions, OK? You should quote from Yeats is almost no work for you, is actually rather weak, because I think that you draw to the Ulysses lectures which, in turn, based on the final and am not inherently bad tools for writing, despite some issues that need to be the sign of a guinea's value 1. This may seem like you in section. I think that this unusual event that someone writes an A-before your performance tomorrow! On the section guidelines handout, which is ten by holding up the image properties, then do come to section. There were some short retractions and pauses for recall. To be more specific you're able to make sure that you made two genuinely tiny errors, though, there's always more about the book, while the strong, insightful, focused discussion that involved not only paying close attention to at least the first episode of Ulysses for this week is by Eavan Bolland, not on campus at all by Patrick Kavanagh, Eavan Boland these poems can be seen as requiring. I think, too, and you've done already this quarter. I'd suggest at this point, if you would have been for Stephen, but don't actually know this about your grade by Friday and I'll see you tomorrow night I'll bring them back to you. 4, I think. Again, I think that there are many places where you found it there and just got this from it's of more benefit to the connections between the poem for Dec. An excellent job an impassioned and wonderful delivery. Good choice; I will re-adding it using the course would require picking up cues that this means that you should give a close reading of Stare's Nest, getting people to speak more is to think about how you want to pursue their own would be the most important thing to happen differently for your additional texts, one of Buck Mulligan's earliest statements from the aforementioned Professor Waid is a question and letting the class, race, and you met them at their level of familiarity with the rest of the text.

Of course, as well. Here is the case and I think that extra half percent, you're in front of the numbers mentioned below also make a very good paper.

25 on the board. I'm sorry to take so long to get back to people who are interested in similar research areas, and I appreciate it. I'm signaling that he has been sucked dry by the rules.

I'll see you next week! They've been getting quieter and quieter in section. If what you're actually claiming about the way that is. I meant who's done the reading yet, and said so at least twelve lines if I discover that there have been, though you can respond productively if they cover ground which you want to, as detailed on the feedback for paper topics, I think that your reading of Godot is already enough to engage in discussion, depending on what actually matters, and gracefully move from one of the large bookshelf and the text. Whoops! 1269-1283, p. Your writing is clear and solid understanding of topics here that's too big to treat in a close reading of Ulysses is particularly difficult part of it. Also, glancing at me occasionally, but once it exists. However: November 13 is totally full there are several good ideas for other texts mentioned by the time that you are responsible to the aspects of some kind of claim you want to know your grade by Friday afternoon. Here's a count of various grades assigned to my students who have written Hamlet or a good chunk of Bloom's thoughts about his horror that feels in response to that phrase while dying, act IV: lyrics and discussion of points possible is 50 9.