#poem again

[weaselle]

The Day is the Trip from the pill of Night and if you ever felt a nip from the chill of plight then you know you gotta get not ill and right in the time between evening and morning light - if not, piss-pot thoughts and ways, are the thick plot twist dropped in your day; slop coffee gotta be on top of game, no wannabe or woulda-been lost and lame. Grab the drip-drop twist on the water main and be the wet to the weather like hot to flame like fire to heat! like pot to kettle - like puttin’ down the paddle pushing pedal to the metal.. like a little bitty kitty turning tiger from a kitten flickin’ tail nails thick an’ bite that threatens you with bitten I’ll be gettin’ to the mother fuckin’ picture perfect point: another plan run outta luck or something? gotta light the joint. And it seems to ease the torture it’s the tincture and the bounce. So sure I’ll take some more sir no remorse, gimme an ounce. But if it’s only gonna get me quickly stuck onto a couch? Then I oughtta ditch the sticky and be sticking with the ouch.

[weaselle]

let me love all myself, every part, yes even those parts i am ashamed of or have wished were not of me. come, twisted creatures i turned from, now be held - i will treat you softly

for while you may well be devils all you are as you have always been mine, my dearest. Mine to own, to hold, to lead; let me not refuse you.

If i can love you, oh parts of me who once and always i have hated, the worst of me i locked away denied and doomed - if i can love you then, perhaps, the rest of me can be loved.

So, demons within, let me love you; and if i kiss you gently, if i lead you from these walls i built to trap you...

if i let go and set you free, i wonder -- can you take me with you when you go?

a more serious comic, about depression

[lucidloving]

@roach-works // Melissa Broder, "Problem Area" // Mary Oliver, "The Return" // @annavonsyfert // Koyoharu Gotouge, Demon Slayer // Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance // David Levithan, How They Met and Other Stories // Tennessee Williams, Notebooks

[itsthislake]

“Icarus.”

it's all about freedom really

Credit goes to An Sifakah for the poem. Enjoy!

Support me on Ko-fi maybe?

[hopelessvalentines]

“didn’t you have to promise, a hundred times not to die?”

[myfakeplasticlove13]

I don’t know man :/ i think I’m just tired of being me

[alexanderpearce]

where are my photos of the snowgums that strip back to bright red trunk

[fluffyartbl0g]

luffy IS selfish. By @ace-no-isha

[hollis-art]

Ode to Spot, by Data Soong

[softinvasions]

DIRECTOR'S NOTE • Nov. 2023

You can't go home. This play has a particular care for and interest in its victims. The resident

inciting event is endless. tragedy is much more concerned with footnotes than it is with gods.

well acquainted with what happens afterward, storytellers claim they can't diverge from what's

written: resist. rage against what must be. tell a story about war without talking

about love. survive its aftermath. fail to find resolution. make this suffering

a home. There's no breaking this chain— fate, as always, gets its way.

Poetry assembled from the program of an Oresteia production. Nov. 2023.

[musings-n-museums]

being an immigrant child / growing up + away from your parents

"anak" by freddie aguilar // laundromat photos by @sunflowrrbabe // "everything everywhere all at once" directed by daniel Kwan, daniel Scheinert // "ladybird" directed by greta gerwig // "a letter to my 13 year old self" by laufey // "class of 2013" by mitski // "be brave be free" by zeppelinmoon

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

[weaselle]

When was older bolder than the crumbling rock of ages filling pages of the current climes? In centuries past getting older meant you knew how everything worked, but now getting older means you don’t know how the world works these days. The reverence of greater grandparents traded for irrelevance, your fate decided without you, your destiny to be a burden worse at life and not a valued source of learned advice.

A frightening future, but such fears are safer, felt in threaded thoughts more than beaten breaths – which fear to feel the only choice to choose when horror is a permanent resident in your haunted heart.

And so you spend your few days off in this static state of shock, clutching these safer fears like driftwood in a lonely sea, while deeper demons circle far below

And from the depths what bubbled whispers surface still, the steam of silent screams misting through your soul, seeking to be said: “you don’t, you won’t, you can’t – you are not enough”

The wood that could become a ship to swiftly sail to safety floats the flood around you, but how to build of boards a boat with all your strength exhausted pushing up against the down of drowning? Water craft impossible with every effort spent on treading time

yesterday was trauma, today is a trap, and tomorrow races toward you with nightmare speed, full of evil promises

But kick. still kick. keep kicking. keep your head above water, take all the breaths you can, demanding hope from every moment.

to reach some beach you don't yet see is still a shore to save you… and even evil promises can be broken

[fairydrowning]

in order to live a happy life, you must romanticize everything (and see a good therapist).

[thetypewriterdaily]

gentle reminder: it’s safe to let love in 💕❤️🚪💌

instagram

[seraphinesaintclair]

“I Ask the Sea” by Seraphine Saintclair

[punkaches]

And when you kiss me I am happy enough to die.