#its called fucking lethal toxicity too it's actually perfect

[zizbombs]

marvel rivals black widow skin that looks like tattletale and i physically have to stop myself from reaching for the wallet

[loveerinn]

another one ig. a poem from earlier this year. a little more raw. incredibly angry. someone told me the poems I spend the least time trying to perfect are by best ones. I disagree. But ... Date & Time: Unknown.

Untitled.

until you can sit down and say that a boy could scold you and tell you how to be who you were

don’t speak to me

close the lips of vixen, a prey lethal to the touch of a fake

that’s how he thinks of you

have you ever stopped and asked yourself the need for intricately weaving a fabric of patterns mismatched into our drapes

how he didn’t belong and let us go along believe WE were misplaced

but wait no that’s not you that’s me... and fuck the notion of overzealous anxiety

yea she speaks to me but at this point we’re not friends

it’s a toxic relationship i care to keep cause she’s the only one that’ll make amends

with buildings and bridges in my psyche

it’s psychology in that she’s providing me epiphany

cautiousness, for threats like you

she makes you question every thing you thought you knew

and we’re tied. bound together but ive been in worse

it’s funny to feel like all our social interactions are cursed

damn, aren’t you glad i said respect your wishes?

that i didn’t flinch or show you tears over the thought of some stupid kisses

i mean the ones that you had, don’t front you little shit

acting like some part of your mind didn’t also think see and feel it

but he was new and fresh and safe and fuck the person that always stayed

lol stayed ..? no i left with tandrums and whiny uproars

on deaf ears, that always went ignored

and can you imagine the actual novel

there i was taking an apology, but you made me feel like i groveled?

how do you say “i’m sorry”

“but this is why i did it”

explanations are one thing, but your lack of decision was truly committed

ironic isn’t it that you could latch onto the things with no answers

maybe i’m the dumbass for thinking you’d wake tf up any faster

we were a design in the making not yet finished

and you just let him keep taking the cloth, the patterns, ... the important parts of our fabric

& yes there’s jealous

shits and tons honestly.

you needa calibrate the intricate working of the problem

that you say you knew me as “green”

but didn’t know other colors on the palette

of my tongue, dying to speak rubbing on the roof and the lines of my gum

numing on my lips til i bleed

concede in the reality that you didn’t know, couldn’t see in front of your eyes

not surreal is it, that you were rainbow blind

colors in the soul of a being that’s been left behind

you left me behind

and yea i was jealous

you weren’t mine but i was my own territory to overcome

and you loved the traits of me in him, when i was a spirit that you knew none

i a being that knows none, and i had to find my definition in a boy

who didn’t hinder his diction

in trying to reflect with his bullshit benedictions

man, but i was “blessed” to listen to tripe and trip

of a boy who toyed with my seasons

use to tell me what i needed to fix and “the reasons”™️

and the weathers of my body couldn’t take it

i was hot like the musk of a summer i knew not

knew not the warmth and pleasantries of spring

you left my whole body, winter freezing

and the leaves of my trees falling on the ground like wisps

a friend that reminds you of bullies that use to torment on your lisp

fuck in all actual, I wish I had the voice to tell him to “suck a dick “

but that would contradict the level of softness i’m trying to build

but also break me cause it’s the texture of my soul that’s complacent

to the way you make me feel and-

sigh. i knew i started to feel off when you two were suddenly chummy

it’s kinda funny, that you laughed at my worry of him taking you from me

no actually that’s comedy

you left and made a choice, so he didn’t really do that did he?

do you know how it makes me feel

when you defend the honor of a boy who took away the only for me that felt real

and we’re not friends!

so it doesn’t matter

that i troubled myself with questions of your actions and “what if i chased her”

but you didn’t catch me

however i wasn’t running, actually

casually, aware of the fact you don’t seem to care

and i could be the grand prize but you wouldn’t play the game

what is it about a boy that’s similar to me in so many same..

blame ... “on me or you?”, i ask myself this same bullshit everyday

how do you get through, not being able to make your own favorite thing stay

how do you not ruin the ruins that are left over in new construction

careful for the eruption, that is me losing my mind

it’s fucking 3:03 pm and i’m not fucking alright

maybe i can’t be alone

cause too long, gets me in my head and thoughts

the sheer comedic tragedy of that statement on me isn’t lost

i admit

he became the garbage for disposal of my feeling

but you didn’t even seem to realize that all the WASTE was built from his leavings

and yours don’t forget you were a piece that did crap too

i can’t even speak out loud the way you made me feel and what that made me do

you ever realize emotions are draining? might as well call them toxic

not a waste of time, i’m sure they stand for something, but they just add conflict

i’m home sick. for a place i haven’t inhabited called security

don’t play with me, confidence is constantly lacking

i’m homeless. in a figure sense

there was a time it was literal and even then i didn’t even get so obsessed

with the living space of a place i haven’t inhabit,

say this so much i may as well patent it

I’m homesick . all the time. that’s all there is to that so i’ll just leave that & drop this rhyme

you use to tell me i made him feel bad aww shucks

poor baby oh that’s his luck

being bullied, but that girl that suffered his ministrations

don’t expect demonstration. from you? he hid his administrations

maybe i’m over dramatic

but there’s this picture that opened everything in my attic

i’m an addict to the taste of destruction

i’m high off your lack of love and

I’m just aware of hospital, a temple, a body, ignoring its sickness

if i were to ever give you this.... just remember ... this is my reality not my way of a “diss”

i feel stagnant but the history shows i’m growing

it’s funny i don’t think i ever HAVE to project the things both you and i be knowing

unlike the one that will capitalize on the facts that he’s changed

but to mute, you need to be aware of your past and future stage

as in the times you were different and supposedly brand new

head so damn big, missing

the point that cuts straight through..

me

it cuts me

can’t you see that

that his misgivings breed reactions

and

can’t you see me ripping and dripping

and my voice calling

fuck damn there goes my heart sprawling

on floor

and you step on it so who are you ... either of you, to implore that you ‘loved’ me

bitch, bite me

and mind you it’s not dead

my hearts alive still beating

lifeless only from the feeling the pressure of a heeling

bounded to death, trying to heal from the fatal steel from irony

lol ... to think it’s my real laughter and ability to love you’ve stolen from me

how did you take it considering you dont do that

god i’d fight through hell and hire waters and you especially ... to get it back

god i hate even listening to me

ever been so aware of what it could be

should be oh goodie

there she goes again ‘nother long stupid poem from me

••

It’s crazy... a long time ago I thought about giving this to the person it was intended for... I even wrote it in the poem. Letting them feel how much I was hurt everything I was feeling. I talked myself into thinking they wouldn’t care anyways. Or they wouldn’t wanna hear it. Or they’d take it wrong and it’d make it worse. Or they wouldn’t understand my feelings... or any of it. So I never gave it to her.

Now I wonder if it would’ve changed anything. sigh. probably not. who knows.

Loveee Erin

[la-knight]

Books I Read in 2016_::_The Sinister Sweetness of Splendid Academy by Nikki Loftin

“When my mom was alive, she read me stories every night.

‘Use your imagination, Lorelei,’ she’d say, ‘and your whole life can be a fairy tale.”

I wanted that to be true. But I should have paid more attention to the fairy tales.”

When Lorelei’s old school mysteriously burns down, a new one appears practically overnight: Splendid Academy. Rock-climbing walls on the playground and golden bowls of candy on every desk? Gourmet meals in the cafeteria, served by waiters? Optional homework and two recess periods a day? It’s every kids’s dream.

But Lorelei and her new friend Andrew are pretty sure it’s too good to be true. Together they uncover a sinister mystery, one with their teacher, the beautiful Ms. Morrigan, at the very center. Then Andrew disappears. Lorelei has to save him, even if that means facing a past she’d like to forget – and taking on a teacher who’s a real witch.

What Lorelei and Andrew discover chills their bones – and might even pick them clean!

1.85/5 stars

So I read this book a while ago, and the first time I read it, I really liked it. Not love, but I enjoyed it just fine. I’m not snobby about the target age of my reading material: I love Dragons Love Tacos as much as I love Red Queen as much as I love The Night Circus as much as I love Aru Shah and the End of Time. And I read The Sinister Sweetness of Splendid Academy at a dark time in my life (I have many) when my depression went undiagnosed and therefore untreated and I couldn’t handle much in the way of length or high-high stakes or grimdark or anything like that. So this book was perfect because it had stakes but it’s easier to care about one kid’s life than about, say, the war for the Iron Throne on top of all your faves possibly getting killed by ice demons or zombies. And I enjoyed this book.

More recently, I’ve reread it, and…well, I didn’t love it or like it as much as I had the first time. I didn’t hate it, but I definitely didn’t love it.

People talk about purity culture, which is hecka toxic, and I’m not here for that (I don’t judge people’s reading material unless it’s something drastic, like shouting from the rooftops how much they enjoyed Mein Kampf because, um, yikes). If there’s a book that I’ve heard is problematic, I may or may not read it for myself, depending on the nature of the issues and whatever. No media is perfect, it’s a balancing act. If I’m titchy about the person getting my money, I’ll buy that book secondhand so they don’t get any of my money (this is what I did with Stephenie Meyer, Suzanne Collins, Cassandra Clare, Anne Rice, James Dashner, & JK Rowling, for example). Not difficult to do. The obsession with consuming so-called “pure media” can be super bad and result in things like anon harassment or even death threats. I’ve seen this happen. On the flip side, the push against both problematic content and purity culture, when dealt with rationally, has led to some really great discussions regarding media analysis and critical thinking with regard to story consumption, and that’s great.

Why is this relevant?

So I reread Splendid Academy after some exposure to articles, essays, blog posts, and tumblr posts about several topics - including the pervasiveness and lethality of fat-shaming (among other things, like the silencing and condemnation by society of justified female anger). I did not go looking for these posts, they just trickled into the fringe of my social awareness as a result of using social media. I’d read them, reblogged and retweeted them, but I didn’t consciously try to apply those posts to Splendid Academy when I reread it. But this time through, the book made me super uncomfortable, although at first I didn’t quite understand why. I had to sit and, as they say, “think muh thoughts” all the way through a few times before I figured out what was bothering me.

The very basic dual premises of this book are sexist and fat-phobic. Now, I’m fat. There’s a lot of stigma around being fat. I mean, people have died of treatable, not-fat-related medical ailments because their doctor refused to look for those things, falling back on “just lose some weight and you’ll be fine” instead - and then boom, it’s something like cancer (which is not exacerbated by being fat) and the person dies.

(I am not Google. You can Google this information if you really want to. It’s all over Tumblr, Twitter, and Google. Don’t bother me about it)

The sinister nature of Splendid Academy is that its run by three witches fattening up all the kids to be eaten. Typical “Hansel and Gretel” motif, right? Except! In “Hansel and Gretel,” the kids are literally starving when they come upon a food source, an adult tells them to eat and eat and eat (it’s not their idea), and Hansel ends up locked in a cage by the witch and force-fed because the witch* threatens to kill his sister if he doesn’t. A lot of fairy tales (original ones in Grimms collections and by Andersen and whatnot, I mean) have morals of various types. The moral of “Hansel & Gretel” is not “gluttony should be punishable by death” or “being fat makes you a worthless human and it’s why bad things happen to you.”

(*By the way, the stereotypical long-nosed warty witch who eats Christian children is an anti-Semitic caricature of Jewish women and it’s gross; luckily the author doesn’t do that)

But in this book, the kids almost seem to bring their imminent demise on themselves by eating too much junk food. Sort of like how the narration says Augustus Gloop ended up turned into semi-sentient fudge in Charlie & the Chocolate Factory because he was a greedy glutton and not because Willy Wonka is a colonizing* sociopath who should never be in charge of minors.

(*Three words: Fucking. Oompa. Loompas.)

All but one of the kids attending Splendid Academy are snackers. These twelve- and thirteen-year-olds will snack on Skittles or sunflower seeds or whatever while they do homework or school work. They’re fed gourmet breakfasts and lunches in the school cafeteria every day. The food is enchanted, of course, to be highly addictive and also enchanted so that it transforms immediately into fat, apparently? Bypassing the stomach entirely, I guess, because the kids never get full and literally just eat all day every day that they’re in school.

Wait, you say. If the food is enchanted, it’s not the kids’ fault they’re eating it. That’s not fat-phobic at all. What?

I said all but one kid has fallen for these magical machinations. One boy (not our protagonist Lorelei, but her friend Andrew) is basically immune to the call of the candy. If the One Ring of Power was candy, he’d be movie!Faramir and Lorelei would be Frodo. And why is he immune? Because he’s got a fairy godmother? He’s magical himself? He’s a total nerd and studied mythology and knows how to spot ensorcelled edibles a mile away?

Nah. It’s cuz he went to fat camp.

Y’all can’t see my face right now.

Now, to be fair, apparently Andrew was a compulsive eater and needed some kind of intervention because he was out of control (which, also being fair, is a ridiculous and tired trope about how fat people can’t control themselves around food and we need to kill that with fire and not spoon-feed the idea to tweens, thanks). But even with the blegh back story of compulsive eater, YOU DON’T SEND A TWELVE-YEAR-OLD TO FAT CAMP, OHMIGAWD. Unless he’s got PICA (that mental illness where you compulsively eat dangerous or non-food shit like glass or soap or carpet lint) or whatever, he’s not compulsively eating because he’s the next Augustus Gloop and he’s a spoiled brat who hates the word “no.” I used to be a compulsive eater as a kid (which is oddly not how I got fat). I developed the habit if “eating my feelings” because I WAS SUICIDAL AND FOOD WAS THE ONLY THING THAT EVEN HELPED A LITTLE BIT.

And you know what helped me curb my compulsive eating when my depression got really bad? It wasn’t the taunting about being fat or my mom telling me I needed to go on a diet or my dad asking me constantly if I really shouldn’t put back that second cheese stick or applesauce cup. What really helped me stop compulsively eating WAS TREATING MY FREAKING DEPRESSION.

Ahem. However, the book does do one thing sort of right with this kid - because he HAS UNTREATED DEPRESSION went to actual therapy (for the compulsive eating specifically and not anything else that might be wrong) while shipped off to fat-person exile because his parents are horrible people, he can recognize “trigger foods”* - the foods that he would compulsively eat and would make him overeat when he was upset, foods he now avoids. They got that part right. But it also means he’s more selective about what he eats (which is fine) and has more self-control than the other kids (um…), self-control he learned thanks to an entire summer at fat camp (UM…), and his sheer determination alone to not “stuff his face” helps him shake off the herion-addictive magic laid on the school food.

ExCUSE me???

(*Side note, I’m on meds now for non-food stuff that screw with my appetite and also I’m a broke bitch but as a kid/teen, my trigger foods were bread, apple pie, cake, waffles, and fruit bagels. I can still, if I had money, eat an entire angel food cake but that’s not a trigger, it’s just super fluffy and delicious)

So our sidekick is a former fat kid with untreated mental health issues who got sent to fat camp and thanks to the miracle of fat camp has now overcome his unhealthy dependence on food AND has the will power (forged from denying his inner fatty) to throw off three witches’ worth of addictive magic. Something Lorelei only manages to do after she eats magical dead-kid bone chips. Because she and the other kids have no self-control and so just eat and eat...apparently.

Alrighty then…

But Andrew’s not our lead. Lorelei is. And Lorelei interesting as a middle grade protagonist. Her mom recently died of cancer and Lorelei blames herself (because that’s what kids do) and she’s filled with even more confusion, fear, self-hate, and anger than a typical tween girl as a result both of her mother’s lingering illness and ugly death as well as the fact that Lorelei at one point jerked away from her mom during an argument and, due to chemo-induced weakness, her mom lost her balance, fell, and broke a bone.

Lorelei is lost and angry. She makes friends with Andrew and finds out about the witches and their cannibal plot while still struggling not only with her mom’s death and her own guilt, but the screwed-up situation with her family. What situation? Her dad and older brother are 100% emotionally abusive and treat her like she’s some kind of bratty little monster because she’s feeling sad and guilty and scared and angry all the time.

HER MOM JUST DIED YOU BUTTHOLES, SHE’S GOING THROUGH PUBERTY WHICH IS A HORMONAL HURRICANE OF DEATH THAT RUINS EVERYTHING, AND YOU POOP-WAFFLES ARE HELPING NOT AT ALL AND YOU SUCK.

This is a MAJOR pet peeve for me because too often emotional abuse is normalized in middle grade fiction, especially when it comes from parents (this book, The Night Parade by Kathryn Tanquary, All Four Stars by Tara Dairman, Young Wizards by Diane Duane, and even in Harry Potter, perpetuated by some of the so-called heroes) and it drives me bat-crap.

This is a middle-grade review, so I’m trying to keep it PG13.

The head witch, Ms. Morrigan, is drawn to Lorelei because of her anger and how lost she feels, and instead of eating her, wants to adopt her and make her into a baby cannibal-witch. This would be kind of a cool angle except once again, it reinforces that Lorelei being angry about her mom being dead is a flaw iin her character and not a completely understandable psychological response to a tween’s universe being ripped in half by the concept of her mother being gone forever.

Her dad and brother are “good guys” and disturbed/horrified by and condemning of her anger, grief, guilt, and fear, and they punish her for it. Ergo, according to the narrative, her anger is bad. The evil witches who literally eat children admire her anger and say it proves she should be one of them, too. Ergo, her anger is double bad. She only stops being tempted to join with the witches once she realizes being angry about her mom dying is “immature” and “bad.” Ergo, blah blah blah, girls should never be angry, it’s unladylike and turns you into a flesh-eating witch.

My parents spoon-fed me “demonstrating anger in any way for any reason is bad” along with a HUGE helping of “being angry about feeling powerless makes you a bad person” for six years of my adolescence, then wondered why I started self-harming, developed depression, and attempted suicide on multiple occasions before I was twelve. The message that a child’s anger in the face of powerlessness, death, or sudden and unpredictable changes to their homeostasis is an inherently bad thing that should be punished and makes them bad or evil can be incredibly damaging. Her mom died. A twelve-year-old girl is allowed to be confused and sad and hurt and angry about that.

Like I said, I didn’t hate the book (although these two things I ranted about made me suuuper uncomfortable while reading and the more I thought about them later, the angrier I got). But I didn’t love it, and I didn’t like it as much as I did during my first read-through. The fat-shaming was annoying and gross, and I’m suuuper tired of angry girls being shamed for their feelings, especially teens and kids. Young people feel things so intensely. And they don’t always have the experience or the vocabulary to parse out how certain aspects of a story make them feel or why, or resist internalizing toxic messages about how feeling intensely or feeling a particular way at all is bad. Thre’s a big differene between asking an eight-year-old to consume their media critically and someone twice or thrice that age. And yeah, parents have a responsibility, family discussions, if they rely solely on books society has failed them, blah blah. Unfortunately, a lot of parents suck and a lot of parents shame their kids for having feelings the parets don’t think they should. Especially young girls. The normalizing of emotional abuse by parents in middle grade books proves how “normal” many adults think such things are.

Did I Enjoy This Book: yeah, for the most part, I guess. But I won’t be reading it again anytime soon.

Would I Recommend It: No, I wouldn’t. I can’t think of anyone I would feel comfortable recommending it to, who would actually enjoy it.

Plot: .35 star

Word Choice: .5 star

World Building: .5 star

Characters: .5 star

Realism: .75 star

-¼ star for fat-shaming

-¼ star for normalizing emotional abuse

-¼ star for shaming female anger

Total Score: 1.85/5 stars

________________________________________________________

Nicole Kidman as Principal Trapp Michelle Pfeiffer as Ms. Morrigan Bryce Dallas Howard as Ms. Threnoddy