#is hard for hashtag poetry

[artcalledoddities]

I Want * MM * in Campaign

While sitting, I read of WordsbyMM A place for understanding or sometimes just pissed off Why bull shit the sky filled with drones Listen here the doctor said O’hh ur life can with money just swipe the card for life added to plenty We will do our best To keep you alive The Presidential BlackHole I need Votes I gave a lot up Minus money campaign I write on Do you want my voice Speaking Can we find peace between WordsbyMM MMybsdroW If capsuled They yelled I want MM in Campaign The one that answered “ ? Between all blogs. “ “ Well… > …… Honestly! “ I got a picture of Trump like in a dunce hat I got a picture of Trump like in a dunce hat The forum shouted! Signs of Know Known Knowingly On another I am not a mess Me S S The biggest sign stretching across a nation Artcalled One of 13 Blogs By MmybsdrowwordsbymM Read in all Guide&Lead a Global Nation for the Whole World The man says How’s the weather is it all nice and hunky absurdly odd. Ha Ooooooooooooo Reign in an Avalanche Strike with tip of lance Point right when uppers 6 figures just go on and on add this in with that more catastrophic weather on a campaign year Obelisk shears When pushed from the top A C O W A C O ! I want MM on ballot ! Written by Blayne Hale

[wheresurboytonighthelookslikeenj]

"i've been through my own spells of melancholy" george had a goth phase george had a goth phase george had a goth phase g

AGSDHWFDGS I DIDNT EVEN THINK ABOUT THAT

[fayrobertsuk]

Poetry for ALL

Some personal anecdotes and a plea follow...

As quite a few of you know, I’ve been engaged in disability awareness and rights campaigning and other work since sometime in the 90s, so when I was given an opportunity to support and host an event dedicated to making performance poetry as accessible as possible in 2018, I jumped on it.

(image description in alt text)

Poetry for All is the brainchild (and heartchild, and soulchild) of Rose Drew, who I first met through one of Richard Tyrone Jones’s Utter events in London. She’s an extraordinary writer and performer, and a powerhouse of an events host and organiser. Within about 30 seconds of watching her on stage, I knew I wanted to be like her when I grew up as an artist. When she got in touch three years later to ask if I’d like to help out with what turned out to be the inaugural event, I threw myself into providing as much support as possible with enthusiastic abandon, and we pulled together a line-up which included the extraordinary performers Raymond Antrobus and DL Williams (“DeafFirefly”), both of whom I’d performed with before and was keen to see again. 

Now, there’s a whole section on our new website about the history of the events where you can read the facts, but I want to say here that, personally, that first event in March 2018 (coincidentally on my birthday!) was an absolute eye-opener – seeing how poetry events could expand and develop the ideal of accessibility in ways I hadn’t considered. It was also extremely inspirational as I realised that, well, I was allowed to write about my disabilities. Seeing and hearing artist after artist sharing so much and so eloquently unlocked something in me that I didn’t even know I’d been repressing:

I’m allowed to be an openly disabled poet. I’m allowed to express my neurodivergence. I can tell my truth. 😱🤯

Bit of a culture-shock, but I owe so much to the poets and to Rose (and to Dave Wycherley, BSL interpreter extraordinaire – that’s a hard and physically/ mentally taxing job as it is, but to do that with poetry? on the fly?! breathtaking...) for helping me get to that starting point, knocking down the walls of my own internalised ableism.

So, apart from a paean to self-expression and why representation and finding tribe matters, and a screed of gratitude for new friends made and old friendships strengthened through the course of these events, why am I writing this? What’s with the hashtag? “Plea...?”

Well, so far, since you ask, all of our events have had local funding in York, where they’ve taken place exclusively so far. Rose applied for Arts Council England funding for this and next year for a tour comprising several venues and a host more disabled artists and BSL interpreters from various parts of the UK (all getting paid properly!), but we found out last week that we’d not got the money. Any of it. So our forthcoming event on 24th November in the gorgeous National Centre for Early Music is in jeopardy and, since the thought of Rose (herself a disabled artist on low wages) having to pay for this out of her own pocket was not to be supported, I threw myself at a plan of creating a (somewhat last-minute) Crowdfunder, so that we can at least pay for the venue, the artists’ and interpreters’ fees, the travel and accommodation expenses of those of us coming from out of town, and the costs of producing merchandise to sell. We’ll be producing an anthology in print and ebook form, as a joint publication between indie publishers Stairwell Books and Allographic Press. And, if we exceed our funding goal, there’ll be video and audio available of the event to boot!

We’ve created a frankly very exciting range of pledge rewards for people wanting to support us (all the way from £1 and £2 options, since money is tight, especially for disabled folk, right now, to more chunky ones like private mentoring, workshops, and a publishing package), and we’ve got three weeks(!) to raise our £1,500 to cover the shortfall from ticket and merch sales. Eeep! So, if you’re able to and would like to help us, we’d be ever so grateful. The campaign is here:

https://www.crowdfunder.co.uk/p/poetry-for-all-2023-fundraiser

And if you have absolutely no funds to share with us at all, we’d be incredibly grateful if you shared on social media, with friends, on blogs, all of that!

Thanks for reading all this, and have a great day!

[smittenbypoetry]

Get noticed!

Between all the bots and fake accounts on Tumblr one might easily get overlooked as a genuine human. Then, between the somewhat established poets it can be hard to get a foot in as a new poet. Consider the following: Use a personalised profile picture; show some love to your peers; comment on their writings; take part in prompts and other shenanigans whenever they happen. That's how you get noticed.

For this reason, I will restart the poetry game (like this) when life allows it again. I've found many of the writers I follow thanks to this game. Right now, however, life gets in the way.

Still, you can show a bit of your personality, community spirit, and actual humaneness thanks to the new blog:

@writers-recite

Check it out. I for one would love to hear your take on your own work. And, if I yet do not know you, I'd love to be made aware of your existence! All you have to do is record your favourite poem. Any poem, really, as long as it is by your hand. And then use #writersrecite as your first hashtag.

[linkemon]

Youtuber AU headcanons 1

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here.

AN (it's very hard to keep up with haiku syllables in English but I'm trying my best to modify my orginal poetry).

Xiao

✧ The boy mainly plays shooters and fighting games. He has a skill. He doesn't even have to try and kills go on and on and on...

✧ He is not interested in numbers on the channel and basically doesn't care about all the activity on the Internet. You're the one who talked him into it and you take care of the technical side. You edit videos or set things up for streams. You also moderated the comments before things got bigger.

✧ You occasionally walk by the screen but you've never shown your face. Fans often ask Xiao to tell who is next to him because they see him turn his head towards you. He always denies, saying that no one, because you don't want to be the envy of his fans and he has a lot of them.

✧ He gets mad when things don't work out but that's rare. He'd smashed the keyboard once or twice but only when he was playing for himself and nobody saw him.

✧ Die-hard PC guy. Doesn't accept consoles or smartphones.

✧ He wears sweatshirts all the time and they all look alike. Black and green are the only colours in his wardrobe.

✧ Disappears after streams very quickly. There are no goodbyes, he just turns off the camera and it's dark.

Kamisato Ayato

✧ King of ASMR. He often gets comments that he helps people fall asleep. His voice is so famous that he has given it to characters in several animations. Fans keep begging and sending him new stories to read on as podcasts.

✧ Ayato is rich but few people know it. Pretty good at hiding his private life from his fans.

✧ His sister appeared on Q&A episodes and absolutely won people's hearts. So much so that they asked her to take over his channel. And indeed, for a week he gave it into her care.

✧ You appear in some videos in the form of a hand. Sometimes you wave, other times you give him food. People are consumed by curiosity about what you look like. Kamisato always says with a laugh that he won't show you because someone else will steal you from him.

✧ Bobba tea is his brand. It reigns in many fanarts from viewers and he often drinks it on streams. Several companies wanted to work with him but he gently declined to maintain impartiality.

✧ Sometimes he plays strategy games but it's side content. Rather, he focuses on working with his voice as he is always busy. In addition to being a youtuber, he also has his own business and lacks time for other forms of work.

Kaeya Alberich

✧ Plays Genshin Impact and simps to most characters. He started shortly after the premiere and since then he has been completely absorbed.

✧ When you appeared on the screen, he already knew he was going to wish for you. All the fans watched with fascination how much he was excited about you. Unfortunately, he lost 50/50. That's why he did a weekly primogems gathering with the viewers to hit the guarantee. He got you on the last day of your banner and he was happy.

✧ Even if the current meta has eclipsed your character, he still has a three crowns on you and plays you on Abyss, just to show that he can do it.

✧ He wears a pirate headband for fun. Fans speculated that he might have a sick eye but he denied it.

✧ He fights with his brother all the time. Diluc also has a channel and you can see the rivalry on both sides. They pretend to be adults but in reality they have race to a million subscribers and still get at each other. Fortunately, they live separately and rarely see each other.

✧ Quite an attentive person. He doesn't mind being number one on social media hashtags. He has accounts on every social media he knows. He will take the opportunity to enjoy the triumph with the viewers, especially if he wins an achievement.

Xianling

✧ She runs a cooking channel. In addition, she travels a lot and records vlogs about cuisines from around the world.

✧ Her channel's mascot is Guoba. The bear has been standing at the back of the kitchen since the first episode and that's how it stayed. After some time, in the refreshed version, she ordered it as a stuffed animal for her store so that fans could also buy it.

✧ She regularly asks you to appear on the show with her. You make her fans happy with your relationship. They do compilations with your legendary flour wars.

✧ The girl creates unique compositions. She is known for using exotic ingredients in her dishes. She often combines them in an unusual way.

✧ She can eat a chili pepper without drinking antyhing after. Nobody knows how she does it. The video with this trick already has several million views.

✧ Xianling is planning on opening her own restaurant after flying around a few more countries. You promised to help find cooks and the number of CVs sent already scares you.

[bethsullivan94]

Beth's Diary #1: Before The Storm

Hello and this is Beth's diary "hashtag one". I'm currently working as a guitar technician in Portland, Oregon. I constantly feel like I'm at the wrong place driving on the wrong lane of my dreams, you see, my whole family is from LA and everybody knows I wanted to become a profissional writer since high-school. I have skills for writting any kinds of stuff. From poetry to song lyrics, from short stories to novels. I even started a project for a Netflix tv-show with the help of a senior/war veteran about his life in the army. It was actually a comedy full of good fortune. I'm excellent on starting new projects but horrible to conclude them. And well, here I am now, brought by destiny, to LA! After a full night of work and partying. It's raining like crazy and I love it. It helps refreshing my memory and mind. It's alot going on concerning my internal battles. I'm near my youngest sister's home and I catch myself in a crossroad: You see, it's been a long time since I've been trying to prove myself and value to my family, the world and I. But when I say family, I only mean my youngest sister. My parents are separated and they're nuts. Dad was an alcoholic and mom is a drug addict. Even though me and Ellie tried SO hard to get a better life, forced into some part-time job becoming a full-time career - so to speak - there are just too many scars of life that holds us down somehow. Ellie might be the youngest, but she still the strongest. Always has the right answers to everything. Perhaps she got the turn around she deserved when she had her 3rd child, Kassie. Oh sweet Kassie, that cute little blondie angel she is. I miss her so much. I like to give her the best influence I can give her. My heart was beating differently to the rythm of the drums, few minutes ago at the live show. My life just took an unexpected turn tonight as I discovered I'm pregnant. This revelation sent me shockwaves to all my senses, including my burning eyes.

I'm completely unsure of how to navigate this chapter of my life and here's a toast to the worst case scenario, coz I'm doing this alone as I don't know exactly who or where the father is.

That's it. I'm gonna need Ellie's help to figure this one out. Again. I'm calling an uber L.A.X. to get there. *Beth leaves the pub and gets in the car while getting all wet by the heavy rain. Beth decides to make a quick stop at a shop to buy Kassie a gift and her father too. For Kassie, a nice bracelet for badass rock chicks only. As for Kassie's father, a toilet shape coffee mug with a saying ''Lazy man's beer mug". She laughed so hard when she spotted that one. Back in the uber driver's car, she can't help but feel a twinge of envy towards Ellie. Watching her youngest sister effortlessly juggle the responsibilities of motherhood while maintaining a stability and a sense of grace left Beth feeling weak and lonely.*

Beth swallowed her pride mixed with crying and sobbing and leaned on her faith of her sister's support. "Thanks for the ride!" I said, before getting off of the car. The heavy rain was the least of my problems at that moment. I didn't feel myself uncomfortable about the thousands of drops of water more than the life growing inside of me by each second that passed. I look up to the sky and I see the building she lives in. So tall and painted in red. Kind of gave me the creeps when coincidentally a thunder struck the sky. "Come on Beth, look alive" - said that to myself as I ring the door bell. I hear she yelling at the kids who were supposed to open the door for her. As she approaches the door, I take a step back. There's Ellie looking to the other corner of the coridoor, confused. I do a sneaky move and go near her while she's on her back to me. She slightly turns: "BOO!"

Like for more ♥

[toinfinitywinning]

this is get to know you time. the cringy name game at every camp in the world you do with toilet paper. enough.

Conversations and thoughts resembling the same level of random and incongruence of my Apple Music library. like Josh Groban is to Eminem: Mercy Me. a lot about everything that’s not a hashtag bc it just needs more attention.

Let the first (post) be first:

Hi. I’ve never done this before (like a seriously grown up blog on purpose. Just when just followed sad somewhat desperate poetry with a random live-laugh-love meme in there somewhere.) and Pitch Perfect.

BUT.

For 2 years I’ve had Long-Haul COVID. It’s a different kind of lonely

Thanks so much, amirite? —Gen-Z apologies if I didn’t use that jumbled acronym-word correctly.

It’s hard to keep up.

See? What am I talking about now and how did I get there…

Due to a very common symptom of LHC…

Again—hard to keep up. It’s there. Tho

And I have a lot of quirk so it’s possible I think you’ll “get” but are just nice not to tell me

BUT.

It’s already gone. Train left the Station yesterday.

Slipped on a penny.

Not Good. not even funny.

Teens with the gorgeous graffiti have to Go elsewhere. I’ve always been jealous of that kind talent.

Whole lot better than something else shiny thrown on the track and it’s derailed. There’s at least some innocence in a paint can.

WOW.

I have major attention and Brain Fog hurdles to conquer or shortly bypass. You might not be able to tell b/c of how My writing jumps around so infrequently.

Not true but still easier.

Mostly innocent and playful.

Sadly the attention part is this many years young.

Writing comes naturally. As it always has, strangely...

And why is healing so exhausting? Writing is therapeutic but My body says—can you not?

i know im not the only one asking that!

As if I have time for that too.

find a community of people suffering just as similarly and gain strength, tips and tricks.

Just, speak-screen edit my writing for me. Maybe a clarification fact-✔.

Just not wherever Tr*mp gets his.

Could be Truth Social. Monthly fee tho will cost you your Red Hat.

MYGAbad

Speaking I struggle with processing w/e skills I must have held onto.

BUT.

Since 2 years is quite. some. time.—I’ve shared many struggles and victories.

Like a Bell curve. Or a punk Domino falling then lining them up takes longer just to go down again in half the time. Repeat.

It’s very likely I Will try to talk about many things at once.

I really can’t help that. LOL.

Jury’s still out but I get most of my writing and miscellaneous musings from mom.

Dad can write the best, longest, and precious prayers and notes.

Almost delicately but like you KNOW he’s giving you a hug.

A Good mix tape’s paper Version.

Enter Run on sentences. Truly a stream by now.

Although my brain muscle is weak I’ve been encouraged by several people to Start a blog. Someday I’ll include the past 2 years of w/e pics are on other SocMed.

I can’t think of anything worse.

Yea, okay LOL.

Judgment free. Occasionally… like normal doses then have to work through that.

Mostly that’s because I knew nothing about anything before I opened My computer and started sharing My thoughts under zero context ridden or form at all.

More likely as well to offend and piss someone off. Well done you’re now one less friend popular. There’s an App for that tho-tracking people Who don’t like you.

Not sure where I’ll land with this. It may not land you either.

Because like a lot of us. Sometimes you don’t get to talk actually. No Room.

I like routine; that’s out. So it gets dull.

I’ve learned I hadn’t yet given myself the space to see all of things I can do sitting down.

But. By “given” I mean to say that perhaps I didn’t know it was there.

One Good thing I’ve gathered from this Hell.

Hell fresh by the Day! Never frozen.

So at that time and in this case of my life; sitting is fine.

Some of it isn’t too bad. The writing. You will find questionable punctuation. Run on sentences that I was running.

Relevance at all.

All around Confusion…altho connect the dots could have been seen as practice.

Or annoying even. I’d have no words.

I truly don’t set out to be funny. I could never do stand-up or improv. Or act.

Humor forced just takes and receives too much energy that might come off insincere.

Nothing on command.

Like Matt Perry’s brilliant improv wit it just doesn’t hit the same.

B/c it was scripted.

A syllabus for it Imagine.

The horn to jump off the swim block.

It’s when Life feels more scripted a lot of people close up.

That’s because you’re not in charge anymore. I’ve lost the Power.

Don’t prefer caring about whether someone likes me like I used to.

I believe you can snooze me for 30 days or say ‘I’m done w/ her’ and send Me to the cyberarchives.

Okay. Okay.

So—90% of the time I’m witty and sarcastic with a bit of cynicism, discomfort (for you), and pettifogging.

I write primarily about the questions of intersectionality.

How do things fit.

Let’s Fit it.

Until I figured out physics and calculus and basic math were behind a career in architecture and the classes I would have to take, I enjoyed taking things apart to make something else.

Not always pretty.

Could be Good what I took apart was the best thing we can’t see.

Like I’m writing questions but with wisdom not meaning to do that either,

A lot of people don’t like that. You do you! Baby.

I don’t mean to be at all harsh or hurtful. I try not to say that anything vainly.

I say it b/c a lot of what I’m writing is all of every piece of stream of consciousness tallied.

And it was a synapse connecting another.

Maybe that’s the creative part? The other side of My Brain is telling Me to ✔ on the other side so I’m like…crickets.

What I write is stream of consciousness, brutally honest and to some might be lightly offensive. In College writing this Way would’ve absolutely driven Me crazy.

Then life steps in and bonks u on the head with a newspaper but 15 years later returns the favor with an iPhone.

Or too blunt. And comes across as harsh. And that’s mostly because if I don’t have an emoji to match my real-life broken ღ I’m breaking up with you.

Self reflection: impulsive

I used to journal so much growing up.

When did I lose that innocence?

We can’t talk about folding paper into cranes and witchcraft finger fortune games anymore?

No more MASH?

Huh, maybe you weren’t born this Way. Ur Parents just drew circles nearest each other or your apple stem twist broke too soon and you want a partner whose name starts with P.

Very often I overshare. If you’re reading this this is not brand new information. No ability to say things simply. Think I’ve already. That can put me really vulnerable to more bitcoin hacks.

And then you need to figure out what bitcoin is. And whether Mario can collect coins as well in place of the hackers.

I’d say ask Tom Brady b/c of his investments but since retirement he’s been pretty deflated.

Mean people that mean to hurt.

First of all I feel sorry for you. Not in a poor you tho.

People Who hurt on purpose don’t often have any Way to vent or get a rise other than evoke feelings in and deflect toward a schoolmate.

Skip back to the part I tried talking about vulnerability. It truly is the invisible cloak and no one can see you but nothing makes sense still and you’ve only fixed what’s on the outside. Now you’re peeved AND cloaked.

At this conjunction junction next I’d suggest try shopping at Target opposed to Abercrombie then.

Feet in the water right above bankruptcy to see how things could be different only what…if?

Good ♧ seriously.

So there’s more grace given when you fall. When it’s not your month Day or even year!

Nobody is there for you!!

And My cloak is getting rained on.

Maybe gathering strength from falling will come a common sense with a 6th one but with seriously meaningful things I’ve learned and less hard knock’s Life for us.

The hard Way.

The bottom’s still there and it actually stinks stinks. Discouraging b/c there are two sides to the bottom of the cave full of stalagTITES and mites.

All the up’s and down’s. Right there. And the COVID-19 bat OMG!

You know you may not be able to fall any further further but once you’re up again you’re wondering whether you should get some cement to close that thing off.

Choose to live! But welcome to the real world—it sucks—ur gonna Love it.

Almost 4got. In the cave you dont always have to wait for Jesus to be resurrected if that metaphor comforts you but if change comes and it requires a whole new worm can of Life we already can’t handle that gets us outta the dank I don’t think we need to ask permission to the rights of that Bible passage.

BUT.

Until YOU are ready for change...

Forget it. At least you meant well. Someone can guide that horse to water but it stays pretty hydrated, so he says he’s Good. Promise. The only talking animal and it was Me Who got to hear it. More importantly, who’s gonna ☊? Care? There’s a country song finding out Who your Friends are. A lot stay lost and it’s not helpful all our Friends aren’t the same.

Missing a Good chance to find out if you’re in a similar predicament and that not always a bad thing.

At times I have literally had to be lifted off the floor.

I don’t do this at all for pity. As you read, My Pride is the biggest obstacle to let Go.

When you do?

The hard way through this.

I am angry and irritable for bouts. Sometimes I’m silly and invite karma punishments.

Go all Brimstone and every type fire and the Old Testament has nothing New-thinking and no one new to add to it. SMH. Nail a list on the wooden church door reading it is nearing endgame. Or, Just open your hotel drawer and tear out the back half.

So change then— If it were Me and it has been just not an actual hole I’d be outta there due to the spiders and crickets alone. Jiminy’s Cool.

If u can’t change and just stay a novice bunny hill—fine! Stay there. Build some confidence through experience.

And isn’t that another thing? Something specific motivates the fire under your (cuckoo!) and before you’d see the dark without any End of the tunnel and more importantly with the light aspect. All the sudden you care b/c what? It applies to you of course be selfish. Fascinating yet humbling.

Then there’s the ‘Why Me’ (?) phase? Not fully pitiful but just pretentious enough to resume the trailblaze. Bad attitude with a healthy dose of are we there yet and trying to Balance whether someone is saying …’they get it; you always feel bad’ so…KY Basketball banter? Ashamed accompanies too bc thing is a few times I did kind of scoff at phrases like I always feel bad. Like, here’s 2 Extra strength Tylenol.Alright, Ok, come test for Covid 1/29/22. It shouldn’t take going through something to empathize with or change but you could’ve listened for longer with a clear mind. Just cannot wrap your head around it and I think sometimes that’s okay. What’s next I’ll try so hard.

+ It’s 12:01am of 1/29/24 (so last night), you still can’t do math and/or struggle to add or subtract 12 so aren’t entirely sure its your sophomore year orientation, and you already surrender to what you didn’t want to get up for in the first place. Kind of silly u set the alarm! B/c Pain, confusion, Discomfort and a Deep loneliness that has very little to do with people awaits. That whole scenario is a disaster but look who’s standing and GOT. UP. period. 15 years ago that’s where I’d be. Just defeated.

THAT. Is enough some days. I say that to you struggling to believe the same but know Deep down.

Year 2 longhaul and youre wondering why there are anniversaries at all given about half are always sad or tragic. Evoking the worst on what could be the best. Might be something To think 2 minutes ago you’d ended your prayer to have a better Day. Of anything is true about everything happens for a reason I’d say having to chooose how to respond given you have the privilege at all to that just means were normal. B/c ill be honest I would not

I’m angry. WHAT is so complicated about your lack of Faith or belief prayer must go into an encrypted iCloud even the FBI can’t retrieve or interpret. Never had a chance! But I’ll add that it’s worth noting prayer doesn’t deal with its existence in transaction currencies..

Feel less Pain but feel more with it or stronger now. Or, just plain ‘ol numb. Similar to Addiction I suppose people get so used to being healthy one Way or another they don’t even notice better OR worse and no one is getting married.

Truth is.

Yea.

I’m in Hell, but I’m not on a ventilator. I’m not without relentless Support.

I still can smile but laugh just a bit before it hurts.

Something is always worse.

SomeONE is doing worse.

Somewhere and definitely rn.

I never knew I’d be dealing greed of perspective for this Long.

Something you’ll never find out about that changed your life’s trajectory where an explanation would have only confused things.

Then we still have the chance to be astonished and then genuine bc of that. Thankful. Expectant. With Faith somehow. Maybe carrying someone else’s Hope for a while might burden you less for a short time.

You dont need to see eye struggle and suffering. You dont need examples. You just know. There’s a fleeting peace u might not see again for 2 days but in knowing it’s not just you with the same bs going on.

Like here. Here is someone who needs support but in a different Way but how unique it could be to trade just for a bit. It’s not leg day this time remember u agreed a temp trade.

We don’t have to know everything. Most of the time I don’t give God the time to keep up w/ Me let alone do anything miraculous before I just hang up.

Although My Life was headed in a completely renewed direction in so many ways of recovery—

I got sick. Not because it was meant to be.

Because COVID. Possibly a rabid bat. Cracked vile or petri-dish

Everything does not happen for a reason and ppl dont like hearing that bc its an easy out. Says time might go on but this thorn wont ever heal. How do we respond? that’s the most authentic and a strength yes or no wand.

I hate cliché. Thing is tho…I think we all hate it b/c it doesn’t hold us accountable. Eh it’s fine.

Unfortunately we wouldn’t have the pretty, surprise, one of the Walk to Remember walks. All up to the of healing and forgiveness individual to each of us.

If for Me that means ive healed all I can and I’m counting on research to help Me out some more maybe I just keep going. Trust Me nothing is forgotten but you do know now that at least you were strong and capable enough to figure all that at all. And—I can do that. Some days aren’t that kind.

Maybe it becomes a goal we never anticipated but ✔ your resilience at the ticket line and saddle up, honey.this donkey only holds ____ lbs. let some things Go. That thing will still only walk in a circle but you’ve evenly distributed your baggage.

The feeling of pure joy. Which btw does still require a thesaurus b/c it is NOT the same as joy. Like a preventative Med to an acute one.

Then feel Accomplishment.

Not knowing what’s next but trying to be prepared.

It’s a surprise party we never RSVP’d and don’t regret it.

And it’s a Good thing u got outbid for that yacht.

Hell, tho, you won’t be forgotten but pushing helps the donkey move faster for now that is acceptable.

Unshun. Reshun. (This will make sense if you Watch the Office)

Flee fly. Be gone. Thankfully we hope to come out more resilient after the rip and tear and often not fully repaired sewing lessons.

But perhaps the biggest trait I’ve had to work on is My Pride. I want to do it.

I’ll give myself 3 strikes. 4 balls.

Then I walk to First.

Please do not get Me a gift.

I Love you and that was so sweet.

Would I be as generous?

Do u work, yea. It’s just one really hurts more and being tough isn’t tough at all if it’s not helping the worst hurt.

Those are sitting down, timeout thoughts.

The compression socks need to breathe.

But once the Pride slides over, let go, I get to know how it feels to very tangibly be taken care of and watched over.

Patience. The other side of a rant.

Later on that.

My main goal is to learn. Connect. Be called out if something comes off really tasteless.

Laugh at things that don’t have anything to do with being chronically sick. Laugh about what Medicine u had to administer and royally failed.

Sometimes all coupled with a handicap car-tag. No crutches either b/c I don’t like hearing I Will get better. It is a nice statement but it is impossible to be sure. Ive struggled with that b/c I know everyone believes that and means well I’ve just taken prior sick Gentry’s generalization and multiplied.

I am not making light. I think part of me is using the sarcasm as a coping mechanism.

Praise God there is something that does help the pain or at least distract from that Pain just not the one in your legs.

A codependency just a bit less severe. Embarrassing. Reason for judgment. Too easy.

If you can believe it—-I am not the same person I was 2 years ago.

For now I truly don’t know how. Pain can leave, anything traumatic can be worked on. You’ve got your scars.

I actually really think a scar is just unique as a snowflake or fingerprint. Telling so many stories. B/c a scar does mean something has healed. And it never forgets at one time it was painful. I’d prefer to see what I accomplish but I see wonder and beauty in them.

Things get pretty deep, complicated and downright pitifully sad. Vulnerable. Frighteningly true and relevant.

So I take what Good I can get in that day and pray those with LHC (Long-Haul COVID-19)

Be released.

However. On the flip tail’s side.

I’m 35 years aware there are some people who just don’t like me.

Until recently I wouldn’t have meant ‘sorry not sorry.’

I do now. To a respectable extent.

Reader discretion is advised. I promise I never set out to hurt anyone.

definitely not on purpose.

Because. Idgaf. Not bars being held. Que sera, sera.

complete transparency and seriously tho this doesn't mean i dont care. i wear my heart on my sleeve like a ding-dong ready to get hurt.

call it a diversion. we were on a break.

i just might take all of whatever hits wrong and turn that in to whatever ounce of assurance I can with the openness and to the best capability to learn new things and grow with compassion.

And back to writing—may already be just engrained but I don’t ever have a thesis, 3 supporting ideas or a better word then a conclusion.

You might find yourself confused. Reading it again prob won’t help.

Some will be really bad. Ugly. Waste of time. it was at least therapeutic for me.

Already is.

Even more might not make sense.

Read at your own risk, basically.

I have confidence but not really. Just enough not to care to change.

But I think about it. Because I’m wrong a lot.

challenge me. ill try to get through the fog.

But a lot of things have changed. in ways i might not even know Beauty in the Mess.

To sum up the above (sorry, there won’t be another summary after this disclaimer’s commercial intermission.)

I want to be as positive as possible.

Be in control of what I can. Ask for help for what I cannot.

I’m so ready to get My Life back. Trust Me and trust anyone Who tells your theyre in constant pain.

Really embarrassing I used to kind of scoff and be empathetic.

Funny how youre so sure of things.

Until it happens to you.

Suddenly it’s back to the drawing board and humility.

I wear my ღ on my sleeve. My greatest superpower and kryptonite.

What you read is as close to what you get as possible.

Balance can be unfair.

Please know that I care. I try harder than I ever had before. There are things I didn’t even Imagine could happen to someone when sick.

In all the ways I want to come out of this even better than what I envy I was entering into when I got sick.

There will be a WIDE range of thoughts similar to how i write. Mostly Sports and public figures and the politics I can comprehend.

B/c I know there’s someone out there who’s homeless because of this diagnosis. Or was deadly. Fired.

Divorced.

Ive become a bit of a nerd. Childish in some ways b/c you have to be creative…to be creative.

How do I even Start philosophizing that? So I don’t.

So I try My best to be the best I can. Inspire. Elicit laughter and new ways of thinking.

Questions.

Really tho? I just wanna be me.

thank you so sincerly to anything fromn a meme to a gift to a hug a prayer a smile, company, vibes if they can travel

but most of all

for holding hope when ive not been strong enough to.

For better or worse

for loving me.

making me feel heard.

idk what tomorrow holds but if its the same as today ill know at least i can make it and i am still beyond blessed and cared for and loved unconditionally.

even if forever.

wanna feel free, free.

to be me unabandoned.

changed for the better without knowing it.

some people dont have that option.

or even less the resource or safety to write about it.

Lastly mostly—I’m thankful for Insurance and the ability and privilege to work from home. And. Still have a job in general.

A Family and Family reserves holding me.

gentry.gonna.gents/g3

next. and if you made it this far, bless you.

thank you.

you mean more than you know to me. to anyone miscellaneous thanks as well and to my family and extended family and friends and job and insurance.

im in better shape than a lot. perspective sucks in the throes. selfish not selfish but my gosh turn the lights off. each journey is sooo different, but idk find the goodness and inspiration inbtw. There will be a rainbow soon enough, I wont make the bold claim and promise you one tho,

semi lastly and vulnerably, we've all been hurt. all going through something.

I say this every time something really bad happens. Ya know the ‘this is even worse,’ talk.

This one holds every candle.

Funny not funny none are the same and you’re never fully prepared.

and no one knows what it is you’re dealing.

give grace when I can’t sometimes.

cliché’s be damned lets just golden rule it b/c that one’s hard to do too but it sounds cute and Idont see a periodic table saying A! U! Be nice and welcoming.

I know I’ve forgotten something.

So I’ll fight.

But I still get to complain.

Feeling so entitled to this ill.

Sincerely,

Gentry

no ps you're welcome

[dessertgeek]

The Mari Lwyd Twitter saga (2021)

This is part of my efforts to transcribe @seananmcguire's annual holiday Mari Lwyd Twitter threads/poetry battles. The hashtag for now is #Mari Lwyd Project, the first post is here, this thread's source is here.

This round is Seanan + @tkingfisher back for another round of cheese and rhymes! And 2021's is the one that inspired me to work on this, as the non-Twitter versions I could find, though there be plenty, were all screenshots.

As always, credit to the authors/poets/cheese protectors. CWs for food and caps. Settle in for a read. (And if there are more 2021 poetry battles can someone please link me or transcribe and send me a link? I'm not finding more yet.)

Seanan: HELLO MY SWEET, IT'S BEEN A YEAR. I KNOW YOU MISSED ME: NOW I'M HERE. YOU HEARD MY BELLS UPON THE BREEZE. I HOPE YOU'RE WELL PREPARED WITH CHEESE.

Ursula: I’ve blockaded the pantry, I’ve bolted the door I’ve piled up the padlocks ‘til they’ll padlock no more, It may be quite churlish, but this cheese I’ll defend From equine depredations ‘til the cold bitter end.

Seanan: THE WIND THROUGH MY BONES HAS BEEN FREEZING AND CRUEL, IT BLOWS DOWN THE CANDLES AND KINDNESS OF YULE, AND I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'D BE QUITE THIS UNKIND. YOU'LL SPARE NOT A CRUMB, NOR A SLIVER OF RIND?

Ursula: If you asked me for money, I’d write you a check, And the clothes off my back, I’d pile on your neck. But my cheese—! I’m sorry, but that is the bar, I’m all for charity, but you’re going too far!

Seanan: IF YOU HAVE MONEY, CHEESE IS SIMPLE: IN YOUR ACCOUNT IT LEAVES NO DIMPLE. IT'S HARD TO SHOP WHEN YOU'RE JUST BONES, YOU'RE MET WITH LOATHING, STICKS AND STONES.

Ursula: In that case, my friend, I will now blow your mind For cheese can be had, from the curd to the rind. With the power of the internet, your torment will end, If you’re a skeleton, online shopping’s your friend!

Seanan: AND YET I FIND THAT SHOPPING'S HARD WHEN YOU DON'T HAVE A CREDIT CARD FOR "WINTER SPIRIT'S" MY PROFESSION, BUT PUTS NO CASH IN MY POSSESSION.

Ursula: That seems like a problem, I freely admit, The solution, I fear, not within my remit. But if your profession’s not a matter of choice, Have you tried sending Winter some kind of invoice?

Seanan: THE SOLUTION FOR NOW IS RIGHT THERE IN YOUR HAND: OFFER ME CHEESE, DOESN'T MATTER WHAT BRAND, AND I'LL SPEAK TO THE SPIRITS OF COLD AND OF FROST AND ASK THEY SPARE ROOTS, LEST YOUR GARDEN BE LOST.

Ursula: So we’re moving to threats now, is that what I hear? Menacing my garden which you know I hold dear? It’s on now, bone horse, forget the Brie— You mess with my plants and you’re messing with ME.

Seanan: I OFFER NO THREATS, BUT THE BLESSINGS OF SPRING: FOR FROST COMES WITHOUT ME, IT'S THAW THAT I BRING. I ASK FOR A TOKEN, ONE YOU CAN REPLACE, AND MOVE WITH THE WINTER TO SOME OTHER PLACE.

Ursula: This type of wording is really quite damnable Like a Mafia Don saying “This places looks...flammable.” Leaving my garden so the frost won’t attack it? Cold bone horse, you’re running a protection racket!

Seanan: YOUR POINT IS VALID, THAT SEEMS PLAIN, AND YET IT SEEMS I MUST REMAIN. I'LL SIT HERE IN MY CHEESELESS CORNER, AND SO THE YEAR WILL GROW NO WARMER.

Ursula: It’s true I long for Spring’s return Yet Necessity must sometimes burn Seems to me this vein’s untapped… What happens if I keep Winter trapped?

Seanan: YOUR PATHS STAY SLICK, YOUR WINDOWS FREEZE, AND ALL BECAUSE YOU WON'T SHARE CHEESE. YOUR FIELDS ARE FALLOW, GRASS UNSPROUTED WHEN YOU WON'T LET ME BE RE-ROUTED.

Ursula: Ah, but think of Winter in Summer’s home— The savings on AC alone! A captive winter’s a useful tool, Just much climate could you cool?

Seanan: NOT QUITE AS MUCH AS YOU'RE NOW THINKING, AND I'D FAR RATHER JUST BE DRINKING, IT'S EASY TO BE FREE OF ME. JUST GIVE A SINGLE BITE OF BRIE.

Ursula: I don’t fear winter’s icy blast When it’s 72 and overcast But consider this with empty eyes How about a compromise?

Seanan: ...WHAT COMPROMISE ARE YOU PROPOSING? IT'S NOT LIKE I'LL BE DECOMPOSING. BUT AS THE SNOWFLAKES GLEAM AND GLISTEN, THIS I SAY TO YOU: I'LL LISTEN.

Ursula: I’ll write the word “cheese” on the back of a napkin And slide the note under this door you’re attackin’. And don’t argue with me that the cheese is synthetic— The best magic always has been sympathetic.

Seanan: WHILE IT STILL SEEMS A TAD BIT MEAN, IT SUITS ENOUGH TO MATCH THE SCENE. THE THING THAT'S WRIT THE THING IN FACT, AND SO I'LL GO...BUT I'LL BE BACK.

Ursula: Goodbye, bone horse, the season moves Its icy wheel beneath your hooves. And as I devour this cheese with chives I feel I should apologize. ‘Twas wrong to plot to see you imprisoned— But there’s no ethical consumption in capitalism.

[xenosaurus]

NO OKAY BUT THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THIS CHANCE BECAUSE I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS ALWAYS (and this ask will immediately identify me to anyone who knows me bc im literally the only person in the world who cares) but please never read N.K. Jemisin's "The City We Became." She's won three hugos in a row and thats very impressive, nothing but love and respect to my sister who has Made It and Paved the Way for more of us to go forward. I haven't actually read her hugo winners and i'd like to, but unfortunately i started with The City We Became and now i hold a Grudge.

Why:

on the surface this book is a Cool Woke Twist on lovecraftian horror set in new york city. the basic premise is fun: the avatars of the boroughs of new york forming together to help their city become a fully fledged cosmic entity of a sort. the villain here is the literal spirit of gentrification, and while theres a lot of good things that could come from that set up, the actual execution makes it an absolute agony to get through. everything is so hamfisted and somehow smug about recognizing the most basic ideas. its too smug and condescending to appeal to anyone in the center, its ideas too juvenile to appeal to anyone in the left, and its weird flat characterization of the villains as The Most Cartoonishly Evil Cops/N*zis You Can Think Of kind of makes the conflict feel... empty. It's hard to explain without experiencing it, but i cannot recommend anyone actually read it. or maybe u should just so i can finally talk to other people about this, maybe im insane for feeling this way.

some favorite moments of mine, in no particular order:

-the multiple instances of a side character being introduced, having their race and tragic backstory exposited in one sentence, and then they vanish, never to appear in the narrative again

-white supremacists attack the indie art museum on twitter. thankfully they start a counter hashtag and the entire situation wraps up in under 24 hours. they go from "we have to fire all of you bc of pressure from these assholes" to "actually its fine" bc of twitter. i dont even think its supposed to be part of the magic of the city or whatever. its an incredible sequence.

-"he shot out of the pool like a child fired from a hot buttered child cannon"

-theres a bit where the author sets up a neat fight between a character who does a cool transformation and a REALLY neat monster. u will not see that fight play out. that scene isnt in the book. just the leadup and the aftermath. why even bother.

-one of the main characters has a tumblr but its obvious the author hasnt like... used tumblr. this isnt a major sin but it is funny

-really have to state again that theres a line in this book that reads "hot buttered child cannon." this also isnt a sin, this is maybe poetry.

-its labeled as adult fiction, it feels like its trying to go for grit and gore and sex in places, but its also weirdly shy about engaging directly with a lot of that stuff. this one might (MIGHT) actually be a style thing, admittedly most of my nitpicks surround one specific character who has a reason to be Like That, but i also have issues with her as a whole that i do not have space 2 get into here. regardless, a lot of this book feels like ya somehow, but the concepts its playing with and some of the scenes DO also make it feel too adult to really suit that either. its... weird.

its kind of a mess in a lot of places, and honest to god it sort of drags in the middle. if you DO pick it up, i recommend the audiobook. the narrator does a fantastic job, and they do some fun sound design in a few places. unfortunately the story itself is kind of hollow. it has a lot of diversity, but the way so many of those diverse characters are tossed out for brownie points and discarded, the way so many characters go into these preachy little rants about VERY basic ideas like "white supremacy bad" its just...

im sure that the author meant well. this book wouldve raised the bar for its representation in like... 2014. maybe thats when she started writing it, idk. unfortunately it came out in 2020 and i think it just feels Dated in a very strange way.

u dont have 2 publish any of this also ofc, im just always here to Unrecommend this book. unfortunately theres a sequel and some part of me is holding out hope that the author fixed some of the things i took issue with in the intervening years, so im bound to this series via curse. even if i hate this one, i know theres gonna be at least one more, and maybe *that* one will fix it-

do not be like me.

This ask was a ride from start to finish. I feel like I was shot out of a hot buttered child cannon.

[tsukuyomii45]

Any kid head canons for obikonan

I don't think they'd have any kids but on the off chance what are your head canons?

Ngl I've been waiting for someone to ask me about ObiKonan XD

(The hashtag "Under the Influence" contains all ObiKona headcanons/thoughts/even two fanarts and hopefully with many more art to come once I have more time)

I never really thought of their kids because they're the type to have an insanely hot sexual relationship, but if they were to have kids, here's what I've got in mind:

--

-They would have a son; and their son would inherit Obito's black hair or maybe a darker, mkre faded shade of purple, but he would have his mother's copper eyes and round face.

-Their child is aloof and reserved unless he knows the person well enough, which makes him very selective about who he chooses as his companion, and is also very calculative and intelligent. His smiles would only show to the closest ones around him, and that would be his mother and father, and Nagato (if Nagato is alright with Obito and Konan's relationship lmao)

-Konan's pregnancy would in fact bring her and Obito even closer to each other, because they never imagined that the two of them would ever raise a child together. Their son is the most precious person to them in a world that has taken a lot away; and luckily, his parents are one of the most powerful shinobis who would easily protect him.

-Their son would be very skilled with a sword and chain just like his father, and would learn some of his mother's potent paper techniques and use them strategically (stealthily), along with traditional Uchiha techniques for more offensive, lethal blows.

-Their son awakening the Sharingan is rather questionable, given that it usually requires intense emotion for the bloodline limit to kick in, and their son tends to be less emotional and more logical and levelheaded even in crucial situations. It would take a lot to trigger a powerful emotional response, which is something he struggles with because he is not very attached to "temporary bonds", so the concept of Obito's bloodline limit is hard for him to understand.

-This does not mean their son has no emotion or a sense of sentiment, he rather expresses his emotions privately through poetry - specifically haiku. He keeps a scroll with him that he takes everywhere during his adventures as a wandering shinobi, and it would be like a journal where he would write his thoughts and feelings in the format of Japanese poetry.

-Speaking of bonds, his deepest bonds are with Obito and Konan. Their son is a family man; he would always try to find something that would make his parents happy. As a child, he'd fold origami just to impress Konan, and he would always look forward to training with his father Obito. As a grown up, whenever he's adventuring, he'd ensure to stay in touch with his parents and even send them presents every now and then. He looks up to Obito very much as a role model shinobi, and he is very protective of Konan, even when he knows Konan does not need any protection. He is not verbal about his affections, but he tends to show it with the smallest actions.

-Their son is very sharp and observant; he is able to easily detect things that are out of order even in the slightest, which is a quality that makes him a very dangerous man.

-One ironic thing that he somewhat "inherited" from Obito is "playing games with the enemy" before delivering a lethal blow. He'd throw the enemy off with riddles, and rile them up by being condescending, before striking them down at the right moment.

-Their son's grown up outfit would be a sleeveless tight shirt, and he would wear a cloak with high collars over his outfit, a tie-in to his Uchiha blood.

-When it comes to favorite foods, luckily he is not much of a picky eater, however he prefers not to eat anything pickled.

~~

That's all for now! Feel free to share your own headcanons about ObiKonan and spread the (hot) love!

[operationmorewhitecollar]

Hi! Will you be giving Christmas prompts this year?

Hi, Anon, we're glad you asked, and the answer is a resounding YES!

That's right, it's time to tell you all about our holiday creative event, a little something we're calling the White Collar Movie Heist, with prompts, umm . . . borrowed from classic holiday films. 😉

We see this as four weekly prompts and four weekly alternates, with each offering three separate sub-prompts. That means a total of EIGHT different prompts for each week of the month; that's a lot of creative options! But, as is usual for us, this is a pick and choose creative event, meaning you're free to use as many or as few of these prompts as you wish; we're certainly not here to pressure anyone.

Use the actual movie title in some capacity; choose one or more of the sub-prompts; work with the main prompt and one sub-prompt from the alternate; we really are not picky. We just want to encourage as much White Collar creativity as we possibly can.

As for the dates, we've set up the challenge this way because we'd like to encourage new creations throughout the entire month of December, but like most things, we're just not that strict. If something from the Die Hard prompt speaks to you on December 5th, well, we'll still be glad to see it!

As always, we're open to any type of fan creations, whether fiction, graphic arts, videos, poetry, blog posts, or anything you can think of. Did you make a cross-stitch of Neal, Peter, and the gang caroling in the snow? Snap a picture and share it with us. Dedicate a podcast episode to musings on the characters' holiday traditions? We want to hear it. When we say any fan creation, we really mean anything!

In terms of sharing, we'll have an AO3 collection for anything that can be shared there (which is really just about any fan work), so if you post there, definitely add to the collection. If you share on any other platform, just tag us and/or use the hashtags #WhiteCollarMovieHeist, #HolidayMovieHeist so we'll be sure to see it.

So, to summarize the event: make something next month about White Collar from the prompts and share so we can all enjoy it. That's really all there is to it. Oh, and have fun!

[jkrobertson]

I posted 471 times in 2022

73 posts created (15%)

398 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@slytherkins

@ulquihimelovers

@jkrobertson

@peroxidestan

@ladylilithprime

I tagged 91 of my posts in 2022

#ulquihime - 67 posts

#ulquiorra/orihime - 18 posts

#i hate u i love u - 16 posts

#dirty 30 - 14 posts

#ihuilu - 14 posts

#ulquihimeweek2022 - 8 posts

#ulquihimeweek - 8 posts

#bleach - 7 posts

#ulquihimesummerfestival - 7 posts

#jkrobertson wrotes - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 87 characters

#sometimes you want to drink a green smoothie and sometimes you want full sugar kool aid

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

What are you most excited to see animated for bleach if you are watching it when it comes back that is ?

I will absolutely watch it! I think the thing I'm most excited for is:

the new visual style

seeing Orihime again. I miss her!

I'm looking forward to having all the Sternritter introduced to me in a format that I find easier to consume (the manga was a difficult slog for me during the TYBW arc).

Byakuya v. As Nodt

The battle of the Kenpachis

RETURN OF AIZEN

I'm sure there are a million other... OH WAIT! THE NUMBER ONE THING I WANT TO SEE IS ORIHIME AND CHAD IN HUECO MUNDO CHILLIN' WITH THE ARRANCAR HOMIES AND GRIMMJOW COMING OUT WITH THE DRIP!

yeeee

29 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

#4

See the full post

46 notes - Posted March 26, 2022

#3

@troyyyyyyyyyyyyyy reminded me of this masterpiece 😭

56 notes - Posted May 6, 2022

#2

Announcing the UlquiHime Summer Festival Event!

(It's ulquihime week lite (c))

WHAT'S THE DEAL? Prepare a fic, art piece, edit, or whatever about Ulquiorra and Orihime with the prompt: Summer Festival. Post it on Tumblr with the hashtag ulquihimesummerfestival on July 30, 2022. It gets reblogged. We all get to enjoy a lot of new content. Easy peasy!

Please contact me @jkrobertson with any questions. Can't wait :D

62 notes - Posted June 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

What do you love most about the UH ship? 🥰

This is such a hard question. There are so many things to love. The aesthetic. The poetry. The growth. The angst. The sweet sadness.

But I think my most loved part about the UH ship is the hope. Hope that a monster born of nothingness can be redeemed. Hope that a girl who dared to love everyone despite having love constantly ripped away from her can find it reflected back to her in the eyes of another who had previously seemed incapable. Hope that despite the deepest, most seemingly insurmountable divides, true connection between souls can be made.

Ulquiorra offered Orihime the hope that she could make a difference; to be the change she wanted to see. That her being exactly who she is was enough to make all the difference in the world; that she was significant. Orihime offered Ulquiorra hope that despite himself, there is something real about the intangible bonds between people, and that even a wretched void like him could feel the warmth of a compassionate soul, that he might be mourned, and that he could find someone to leave his heart with; someone who cared enough to reach back.

95 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[my-random-fandoms]

There are bluebirds in our apple tree this morning and I am sad for them. Sad for the tree, too. The tree is a crabapple tree, technically. It’s an old tree, bursting with fruit. The tree doesn’t know who won or lost an election or what an election is. The birds don’t know, either, and I’m happy they get to have that. We also haven’t had meaningful, measurable rain in five, six weeks now. We’ve wildfires popping up just a few miles away. It’s November 6th and will be 80 degrees today. The tree and the birds must know they’re thirsty. They will know if fire comes for them.

I’m sure the rain will come, and I’m hopeful we will be untouched by fire, but I also know the lack of rain will dry us out more often, just as I know it’ll flood more often, and I know the fires will come more often, and the tornadoes, too. And you like to hope that someone in charge has a plan, that they believe in this reality going on around us, that they share in the same reality we do. But we’re not there anymore. We lost that yesterday. We lost a lot yesterday. (Perhaps chief among them the illusion that we shared one country, or even one collective reality.) I don’t know why or how we lost it, precisely. We can unpack it however we want to — the mainstream media sanewashed the man; the woman was a woman and men would rather choose to control women than vote for them; don’t forget the racism, can’t forget the racism; the woman ran the wrong campaign and cozied up to the GOP and didn’t say enough about Gaza and global warming; it was the economy, stupid; it’s Russia; it’s disinformation and misinformation and Musk and RFK and the price of milk and the cost of rent and something about the border and something about COVID and —

What I know is that I don’t know. What I know is the things I thought I knew, or that I believed were true, really aren’t, and that once more I exist in need of a word, perhaps a German one, that expresses both the act of being shocked and a total lack of shock at the exact same time.

I knew he could win. I half-expected it. And yet all parts of me strained against the illogic of it, the sheer incredulity of the possibility of his win. People looked at his first four years, at COVID, at January 6th, at all his promises, his crimes, at all his people, at all the ones who told us he was a fascist, a dictator, an anti-democratic nightmare, and they said, “Yeah, him again, let’s fucking go.” And they pressed the self-destruct button, using the system of democracy to attempt to undo the system of democracy.

People chose this. In considerable number. This, grotesquely, is democracy in action. Though a democracy mauled into a cruder shape by disinformation.

This is a doom post. I don’t want it to be (and I’m sorry for it) but I also don’t want to be flippant or twee. I don’t want to hashtag-resist you into trying to have hope on a dark day. Perhaps some dark days must simply be dark and we must be in that darkness. Maybe we need to let people have their hopelessness today. Let them have their doom. Do not scold. Give them no stirring platitudes nor poetry of resistance. Just let people sit and ruminate however they must on the hard mad road ahead.

Because that road ahead is hard, and it will be maddening. We’re in some very serious trouble. The climate, the environment, those bluebirds and that tree, are at stake here. Our friends — especially transgender folks, cisgender women, really anybody who isn’t a straight white Christian dude with money — is going to be worse for wear at some point soon, even if they voted for him. It’ll be up to us to help them, to protect our friends, even when we don’t know how, even when we may need that protection ourselves.

Our democracy is in danger — all the lights on the console are blinking red, and the klaxons are deafening. Is there a deportation force coming? Are we really going to ban vaccines? Are we going to put Musk and RFK Jr. in charge of important levers and buttons? How deeply will we cement a corroded, cruel SCOTUS majority and for how long, and will we even be able to turn the tables on that again? I don’t know. It really isn’t good. A lot was on the line yesterday and while I like to think we, as the at-this-point-cringey-cliche goes, left it all on the field. The stakes were high and we lost. And there may be a lot of suffering in the wake of that.

This isn’t a post with a plan, this isn’t a pep talk, this isn’t about hope. I’m wallowing in the doom for a moment. Maybe it’s foolish. Maybe I shouldn’t be doing that, or telling you about it. But I wanted to say it, to be true to where my head and my heart are at. I want it to be okay to feel shitty. To not force joy. I don’t want some artifice of hope. To be a lantern in this tunnel right now feels false. I feel like I need to be in the darkness here, to be one with it, to become part of this new, lightless reality. I’ll get there. I’ll get back to a better place. But right now I want to realize how much trouble we’re in before I tell you how we deal with it. Maybe the worry and the fear will motivate me. I don’t know. I’m sitting with it. I’m considering the trouble, the doom, the darkness. I’m thinking about the bluebirds and the crabapple tree. And I’m hoping somewhere in the darkness I find a way forward.

If you need it, there’s 988 Lifeline — call or chat.

And the trans lifeline, too, here.

[lexclarkeproject2]

Section 5: "Fly as Hell"

This section is Sonya Renne Taylor talking about how the “the body is not an apology” movement began. She said it started from a conversation with a friend about why she was having unprotected sex with a person she did not care about that much. To that the friend explained that as a person with cerebral palsy it is hard to come by sexual encounters. This is when Sonya said “the body is not an apology” then she created a poem out of that and urged people to take selfies and use the hashtag #thebodyisnotanapology to liberate folks whose bodies have been under scrutiny from society. Sonya talks about how her main goal for this movement is radical self love and radical empathy. She believes that is the way forward and through oppression. To be unapologetically herself, fat, black, and a woman, she proves that self love is powerful in the way her movement has burst open. This reminds me of my own relationship with my body. In the past I have spent hours judging it or hating it but now through working with radical self love I try to appreciate her and tell her that I love her and I appreciate everything she does for me. 

I have chosen an interview with Sonya where she talks about why self love should be radical and how she embodies that mindset. Something that stuck out to me from this interview is the way she starts the conversation with the fact that most of our thoughts about our bodies aren’t original thoughts. Meaning that there are systems in place that urge us to feel a certain way about our bodies that serve the systems of oppression and to combate that way of thinking is to be radical. I love listening to her spoken poetry. It is so powerful so I think this video is perfect for this section.

[writer59january13]

Please Michelle Obama...

can you save American democracy? I highly hugely grant

Barack Hussein belated kudos what with his wizardesses in tow wrought wonders to one nation analogous while an under dog sweeping in like... It's a Bird... It's a Plane...

It's NOT Superman

but the Beagle Snoopy

imitating the Red Baron

saving the day. Analogous to powerful twelve Olympians in ancient Greek religion and mythology (Zeus, Poseidon, Hera, Demeter, Aphrodite, Athena, Artemis, Apollo, Ares, Hephaestus, Hermes, and either Hestia and Dionysus) you wield immense influence among United States electorate, (especially an exceptionally strong following, where people of color be concerned) which upcoming presidential election November fifth MMXXIV decrees intrepid politically savvy candidate. No need to x (typically pronounced as the voiceless consonant cluster /ks/ when it follows stressed vowel e.g. ox, and the voiced consonant /ɡz/ when it precedes stressed vowel e.g. exam.

It is also pronounced /ɡz/ when it precedes a silent ⟨h⟩ and a stressed vowel e.g. exhaust) spleen with mine pun hushing dull liver re: how many citizens (most Democrats and even a goodly amount of Republicans), would vote for you in a heartbeat. As the elegant forty fourth first lady you became a role model for women and an advocate for healthy families, service members and their families, higher education, and international adolescent girls education. Your megawattage aura, charisma, persona continues to bring you rave reviews and imbues avid supporters as she positively affects ringing endorsements of the following: military families, working women balance their careers and families encourages national service, promotes the arts and arts education, and fosters healthy eating

and healthy living for children and families

across the country. Additionally, you earned widespread acclaim and publicity on the topic of healthy eating by planting the first White House vegetable garden since Eleanor Roosevelt served as First Lady.

Totalitarianism will be trumpeted courtesy the coiffed oaf

donned with FAKE orange hair,

whereby constitutional freedoms

beginning with disenfranchisement

will disallow, disable, and withhold an increasing number regarding people of color,

plus people hashtagged

as undocumented immigrants

forcibly returned to their homeland, no matter purpose driven lives

includes people arriving for work and study, as well as for humanitarian purposes, including unique events such as those arriving from Ukraine and Hong Kong.

Citizens like yours truly

will raise cane to no avail;

the prospect hard won freedoms since the founding of these United States of America could be rescinded at the stroke of a pen, I already bewail as a fait accompli no surprise then

that even crafting poetry dutifully doth decry abolition

of inalienable rights (for life, liberty,

and the pursuit of happiness

strongmen of the law could curtail

suppressing dissent as forcibly decreed "The devil is in the details"

will mount insurrection against holy grail

as enshrined in Declaration of Independence

turning into figurative mincemeat the Constitution lighting a torch, where “City On A Hill” backbreaking slave labor erected courtesy hearty and hale

dark skinned people violently wrenched from homeland mercilessly whipped and tortured viz lynched while still alive a stake thru flesh didst impale.

Politicians with a conscience the exception rather than the rule, and looking, peering, and

scanning back forty seven years when thirty ninth occupant of White House

chose Walter Frederick "Fritz" Mondale an American lawyer and politician

served as the 42nd vice president

of the United States from 1977 to 1981

under President Jimmy Carter,

I think virtue throve. Hammering the final nail

in the figurative coffin of democracy

can be heard echoing across the voluminously storied

complex edifice rent asunder courtesy diabolical forces crumbled, whereby all the king's men and horses could not resurrect best western civilization.

[mylawcitrus]

An update on my life

I'm 34, I suffered a lot with the pandemic, I lost my grandma, I had a relationship that didn't end up well, then a pending relationship that shattered me to tiny little pieces, and it totally shouldn't have been this way, particularly in that last part, because my grandma was 91 and we had been preparing. It was still hard. When I talk about porn I don't mention the sadness in me that never left, for the people who have left me or this world, whatever you believe in. Maybe they're expecting good things for me in a superior plan. I'm an educator, I'm struggling like hell at the job, especially with it being online and my habit of talking to new people as a distraction and as a need. I try, from time to time, to treat this theme with the seriousness it deserves, but it's only to find out it's not supposed to be treated seriously, but lightly. Except that I can be intense and that's just a personality trait. I post a lot, I expect acknowledgement and I absolutely don't wanna overwhelm people, but if I were 13 years old and I found a new hashtag on an adult site, overwhelmed is a word I could be using. And yet, people place judgments. Without asking questions, without knowing the history, a history I'm trying to tell, that I've been trying, out of a disbelief that all my love has been thrown in the trash and people will not speak to me again like it didn't mean shit to them, like it's not a lot of people, like I have no rights to my own fucking memory and I should be a corporation robot, political puppet and media clown. It's sickening! And I don't find the inspiration to write it down in poetry, but I've tried songs, I've tried short stories, I've tried blogs, and it's desperating to see that the people who have hidden my visibility or crushed the chances of me ever being attributed to good stuff on the web and outside of it, these people always win, and then to learn who they are, and to learn that you have to somehow deal with it, because who says I want to? But they want me to, and I can't stand this anymore, I have disease, I have a shiton of problems you have no idea about, my mind races like a nightmare, I'm supposed to take care of stuff that the fucking CEOs haven't figured out and they give me a pat on the back and a misery salary. I can't believe all this was allowed to happen, but people are capable of acting very low to get what they want, and I wonder what it was, that I had, I never had anything, I just made 2k a month in Brazilian currency for a little less than 2 years and that was supposedly the highlight, so I really CANNOT understand or accept the treatment I get and I absolutely don't waanna mix this up with politics, it's about caring, it's about giving a fuck. And all the stresses I've had in my life are precisely becaue I gave a fuck... but people think I didn't, that I don't, and I don't know what in the hell I gotta do to make these people see the truth.