#phoeposting

[writing-is-a-martial-art]

truly some people have no genre savviness whatsoever. A girl came back from the dead the other day and fresh out of the grave she laughed and laughed and lay down on the grass nearby to watch the sky, dirt still under her nails. I asked her if she’s sad about anything and she asked me why she should be. I asked her if she’s perhaps worried she’s a shadow of who she used to be and she said that if she is a shadow she is a joyous one, and anyway whoever she was she is her, now, and that’s enough. I inquired about revenge, about unfinished business, about what had filled her with the incessant need to claw her way out from beneath but she just said she’s here to live. I told her about ghosts, about zombies, tried to explain to her how her options lie between horror and tragedy but she just said if those are the stories meant for her then she’ll make another one. I said “isn’t it terribly lonely how in your triumph over death nobody was here to greet you?” and she just looked at me funny and said “what do you mean? The whole world was here, waiting”. Some people, I tell you.

[jijimogumogu]

My poem. “Beneath the surface”

In shadows deep, where silence dwells,

A girl hides secrets, her heart’s quiet spells.

With trembling hands, she seeks release,

In fleeting moments, she finds a false peace.

Each mark a story, each scar a pain,

A way to silence the whispers, the rain.

In the mirror, she searches for a light,

But only sees darkness that swallows her sight.

She wears long sleeves, a shield from the gaze,

Afraid of the questions, the judgment that stays.

Yet inside her chest, a flicker remains,

A yearning for hope, for love to reclaim.

With each passing day, she fights to break free,

To find the courage in her own heartbeat.

She learns to speak softly, to reach for a hand,

To open her heart, to understand.

For healing is a journey, not a straight line,

A path filled with struggles, yet moments divine.

And though she may stumble, she’ll rise from the fall,

A girl learning to love herself after all.

[writing-is-a-martial-art]

I'm being so fr that post about genre awareness and the zombie girl is one of the most profound and cleverly structured pieces I've read I love you

Thank you! I really enjoyed seeing it take off, it was originally about a character from a gamestory made with a friend and I wanted to talk a bit about the hope I put into it (fun fact, undead lady's pronouns are she/it!). I'm glad it resonated with you. Peace and wellfishes <3

[brunhielda]

(On one hand, excellent hope core rewrite of horror media, while breaking apart the idea of people who are genre savvy. Excellent work, truly thought provoking.

On the other hand, one of those thoughts is:)

My guy, you watched her come out of the grave. What do you mean- nobody was here to greet you? You were there. And instead of shouting for joy, you nitpicked how it wasn’t sad enough. Oh, how the world has broken you.

truly some people have no genre savviness whatsoever. A girl came back from the dead the other day and fresh out of the grave she laughed and laughed and lay down on the grass nearby to watch the sky, dirt still under her nails. I asked her if she’s sad about anything and she asked me why she should be. I asked her if she’s perhaps worried she’s a shadow of who she used to be and she said that if she is a shadow she is a joyous one, and anyway whoever she was she is her, now, and that’s enough. I inquired about revenge, about unfinished business, about what had filled her with the incessant need to claw her way out from beneath but she just said she’s here to live. I told her about ghosts, about zombies, tried to explain to her how her options lie between horror and tragedy but she just said if those are the stories meant for her then she’ll make another one. I said “isn’t it terribly lonely how in your triumph over death nobody was here to greet you?” and she just looked at me funny and said “what do you mean? The whole world was here, waiting”. Some people, I tell you.

[shesalwaysblessed]

I don’t believe in all that stuff abt ghost and zombies and whatnot but this is beautiful writing

truly some people have no genre savviness whatsoever. A girl came back from the dead the other day and fresh out of the grave she laughed and laughed and lay down on the grass nearby to watch the sky, dirt still under her nails. I asked her if she’s sad about anything and she asked me why she should be. I asked her if she’s perhaps worried she’s a shadow of who she used to be and she said that if she is a shadow she is a joyous one, and anyway whoever she was she is her, now, and that’s enough. I inquired about revenge, about unfinished business, about what had filled her with the incessant need to claw her way out from beneath but she just said she’s here to live. I told her about ghosts, about zombies, tried to explain to her how her options lie between horror and tragedy but she just said if those are the stories meant for her then she’ll make another one. I said “isn’t it terribly lonely how in your triumph over death nobody was here to greet you?” and she just looked at me funny and said “what do you mean? The whole world was here, waiting”. Some people, I tell you.

[angstandhappiness]

DUDE

@professionalchaoticdumbass No no no, she IS genre savvy. She knows what she’s doing. It’s like bugs bunny defeating superman. By feeling and acting this way, she can change the themes of the entire narrative and force a happy, satisfying ending in her favor. You are in the presence of a meta queen

@yourladyindank You don’t have to act as expected to anything. You can find joy in sorrow if you choose, happiness in struggle, care in the oddest circumstances. And nobody can convince you otherwise unless you let them, no matter how “normal” it is.

truly some people have no genre savviness whatsoever. A girl came back from the dead the other day and fresh out of the grave she laughed and laughed and lay down on the grass nearby to watch the sky, dirt still under her nails. I asked her if she’s sad about anything and she asked me why she should be. I asked her if she’s perhaps worried she’s a shadow of who she used to be and she said that if she is a shadow she is a joyous one, and anyway whoever she was she is her, now, and that’s enough. I inquired about revenge, about unfinished business, about what had filled her with the incessant need to claw her way out from beneath but she just said she’s here to live. I told her about ghosts, about zombies, tried to explain to her how her options lie between horror and tragedy but she just said if those are the stories meant for her then she’ll make another one. I said “isn’t it terribly lonely how in your triumph over death nobody was here to greet you?” and she just looked at me funny and said “what do you mean? The whole world was here, waiting”. Some people, I tell you.