#precocious poet

[centuriespast]

Chatterton, 1765 Henrietta Mary Ada Ward (1832–1924) Bristol Museum & Art Gallery

precocious poet and forger Thomas Chatterton (1752–1770)

[grease-to-the-east]

this one goes out to my ponyboy curtis playlist i made one day months ago at 2am that has exactly one (1) song on it and it is “i hate it here” by taylor swift 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

[hotcocokiss]

I don't know why but I feel like the person in I Hate It Here is the kid from seven grown up.

[paradoxfragments]

Portrait of the Artist in a Distant Graveyard

I have this idea that One day I might read Ulysses. It's all sunbleached and peeling, Like anything you've carried with you Since you were sixteen. But There's this spark of recognition That keeps saving it from joyless exile, A thought this box wasn't meant for but Still only fits here--Imagine Pinning your soul to paper, saying look, Only for the world to speak in awe Of understanding you as the mental mount everest, Too far off to read the words. I don't know How I got up here, alone with Ghosts like Joyce. The air Has always been this thin.

-kph

[daedpoet]

verses.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Down Bad - A Joel Miller Drabble

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Pre Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 800 Summary: You get ghosted after a one night stand with your handsome neighbor. Warnings: Drinking, smut remembrance, angst. A/N: Happy Tortured Poets Department release day! Thank you to @beskarandblasters for the amazing Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge AGAIN. I previously wrote Paper Rings for it. TBH, I stayed up until 3:30 AM listening to TTPD last night with @ohheypedrito and your girl is STRUGGLING TODAY, but well worth it. What an album.

Masterlist

One night out with your friends, one shared glance, one half smile, one opportunity, one drink bought, one phone number drunkenly tapped into his phone. 

One date, one heated make out session in his truck, one moment of being heaven struck, one naked body left alone in your bed as he quietly leaves without a word. 

One text telling him you had a good time, one week since you’ve heard from him, countless hours of yearning for your neighbor. 

Across the street and two houses to the left, Joel Miller lives. Well manicured lawn, cute daughter who goes door to door selling Girl Scout cookies, large truck parked out the front dinged and well used. 

You’ve been down bad for him since you first moved in, a quick introductory hello and wave one early morning as you took your dog for a walk, how could you be so attracted to a total stranger?

That stranger ignoring you from that moment on, leaving you feeling nuts. Sometimes you’d take your dog for a walk when you’d notice him mowing the lawn, sneaking a glance under your sunglasses, watching the sweat make his skin glisten. Teenage crush vibes, teenage petulance coming out because you can’t have him or his attention. 

You never see him with another woman there, only his loud, precocious brother Tommy who stops to talk with you whenever you’re outside. You know he likes you, but you’re too drawn to his older brother’s beam to even want to lead him on. 

That night shared between the two of you, it almost feels like an evil experiment. He fucked you, fucked you hard, stared into your eyes as he came all over you, devoured your cunt as if he was starving, made you cum so hard it felt like you were floating in a cosmic cloud of sparks, then he left you naked and alone. He owned your body, like it was some sort of hostile takeover. 

You’re barely even sure it happened, like if you speak about the existence of that night, everybody will tell you it never happened, that you’re nuts.

Why did he leave you like that? Why did he strand you the way he did? Why can’t you have him? Why cant you have an us? 

Doesn’t he know what you would do for his attention? How you feel like you could just die when you think back to that night? You’re pathetic for him, isn’t it romantic?

You replay the words he uttered against your skin as he fucked you. “You feel so fucking good, like you were made for me.” 

The taste of your sweat against your lips makes you almost want to cry as you try to run the thoughts of him away on the treadmill at the gym. The last time you sweat like this his cock was stretching you, his hand holding your cheek, his tongue languidly licking into your mouth. 

——

After a night of staring at the ceiling, sleep not visiting you, tossing and turning not being able to get the thought of the weight of his body against yours, you decide to sit out on your porch with coffee in hand, staring at the sky as dawn approaches. A door slamming across the street startles you. He’s outside. This is it, you live in the same old familiar town, he can’t escape you, you can’t escape him. You trudge across the street, only clad in your shorts and your old Rangers shirt. You wave at him to get his attention as he finishes lifting his tool box onto his lift gate. 

You see him swallow as you stand at the edge of his driveway. 

“G’morning,” he nods. “Quite early.”

“It is. Could’t sleep.” 

“Happens to me too.”

“Mm,” you tap your foot, arms folded across your chest. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all.”

“Then why are you ignoring me?”

“S’complicated.”

“Try me, it’d make no difference.”

“Alright,” he runs a hand through his hair, “you’re too good. I don’t think it’s smart… for me to be with someone right now. Too much going on, ’n it’s safer if we just leave it at that. It’s better for you.”

“So, you fuck me, whisper all those sweet things in my ear, make me feel like I’m the chosen one, then just leave? How romantic Joel.”

“Never said I was the romantic type.”

“No, you’re just the fuck ‘em and strand ‘em. I guess.”

“Listen,” he looks down at his watch, “I gotta get goin’, got an important job to start. I really would like to talk more, I respect you too much ’n I really like you, I just think it’s better if you find someone else.”

“Right, well, see you around neighbor,” you bite.

Fuck it, you can’t have him. 

[joytri]

Growing up, precocious, sometimes means not growing up at all.

Taylor Swift, The Tortured Poets Department

[munchmemes]

taylor swift lyrics, the tortured poets department edition, part one

fortnight

▸ i was supposed to be sent away but they forgot to come and get me. ▸ i was a functioning alcoholic till nobody noticed my new aesthetic. ▸ no one here's to blame but what about your quiet treason? ▸ for a fortnight there, we were forever. ▸ i took the miracle move-on drug, the effects were temporary. ▸ i love you, it's ruining my life. ▸ thought of calling you but you won't pick up.

the tortured poets department

▸ who uses typewriters anyway? ▸ you're in self-sabotage mode. ▸ we're modern idiots. ▸ you smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate. ▸ i chose this cyclone with you. ▸ sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me. ▸ so tell me, who else is gonna know me? ▸ that's the closest i've come to my heart exploding.

my boy only breaks his favorite toys

▸ you should've seen them when they first got me. ▸ i only break my favourite toys. ▸ i should've known it was a matter of time. ▸ we could've played for keeps this time. ▸ i know i'm just repeating myself. put me back on my shelf. ▸ i'll tell you that [you/they] run because [you/they] love me. ▸ i knew too much. ▸ you saw forever so you smashed it up. ▸ once i fix me, you're gonna miss me. ▸ you took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart, left all these broken parts and told me i'm better off but i'm not.

down bad

▸ for a moment, i knew cosmic love. ▸ now i'm down bad, crying at the gym. ▸ everything comes out of teenage petulance. ▸ fuck it if i can't have [you/them]. ▸ i might just die, it would make no difference. ▸ i might just not get up, i might just stay down bad. ▸ fuck it, i was in love.

so long, london

▸ my spine split from carrying us up the hill. ▸ i stopped trying to make you laugh. ▸ how much sad did you think i had in me? ▸ i didn't opt in to be your odd man out. ▸ i'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free. ▸ you say i abandoned the ship but i was going down with it. ▸ my friends said it isn't right to be scared every day of a love affair. ▸ just how low did you think i'd go before i'd self-implode? ▸ you swore that you loved me but where were the clues? ▸ i'm just mad as hell 'cause i loved this place.

but daddy i love him

▸ i just learned these people only raise you to cage you. ▸ i just learned these people try and save you 'cause they hate you. ▸ they slammed the door on my whole world. the one thing i wanted. ▸ you should see your face. ▸ no i'm not coming to my senses. ▸ i know [you/they]'re crazy but [you/they]'re the one i want. ▸ all my plans were laid. ▸ growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all. ▸ i'll tell you something right now, i'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning. ▸ i'll tell you something about my good name, it's mine alone to disgrace. ▸ i don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empath's clothing. ▸ god save the most judgmental creeps who say they want what's best for me. ▸ you ain't gotta pray for me if all you want is gray for me. then it's just white noise and it's just my choice. ▸ scandal does funny things to pride but brings lovers closer. ▸ fuck 'em, it's over. ▸ time, doesn't it give some perspective?

fresh out the slammer

▸ fresh out the slammer, i know who my first call will be to. ▸ handcuffed to the spell i was under, for just one hour of sunshine. ▸ years of labor, locks and ceilings, in the shade of how [they were] feeling. ▸ it's gonna be alright, i did my time. ▸ as i said in my letters, now that i know better, i will never lose my baby again. ▸ my friends tried but i wouldn't hear it, watched me daily disappearing. ▸ ain't no way i'm gonna screw up, now that i know what's at stake here.

florida!!!

▸ you can beat the heat if you beat the charges too. ▸ they said i was a cheat, i guess it must be true. ▸ this city reeks of driving myself crazy. ▸ little did you know, your home's really only a town you're just a guest in. ▸ i'm barricaded in the bathroom with a bottle of wine. ▸ well, me and my ghosts, we had a hell of a time. ▸ yes, i'm haunted but i'm feeling just fine. ▸ all my girls got their lace and their crimes. ▸ i did my best to lay to rest all of the bodies that have ever been on my body. ▸ i've got some regrets, i'll bury them in florida. ▸ tell me i'm despicable, say it's unforgivable. ▸ love left me like this and i don't want to exist.

[whencyclopedia]

Merlin

Merlin (also known as Myrddin, Merlinus) is the great wizard of the Arthurian Legends best known from Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte D'Arthur (1469 CE). The character was created by Geoffrey of Monmouth in his History of the Kings of Britain (1136 CE) where he first appears as a wise and precocious youth with prophetic powers. The French poet Robert Wace (c. 1110-1174 CE) then translated Geoffrey's work and added to it in his Roman de Brut (c. 1160 CE). Merlin was later featured as the central character of the Merlin by Robert de Boron (12th century CE) who cast him as a Christian prophet, and this depiction, with some variation, would continue in the Vulgate Cycle (1215-1235 CE) and the Post-Vulgate Cycle (c. 1240-1250 CE) to influence Malory's final characterization of the seer.

In Malory, Merlin is Arthur's mentor, instrumental in every aspect of his life from his conception to his education, his rise to power, and his vision of a kingdom ruled through justice and goodwill. Merlin is central to the lives of all the main characters of the legend, able to see both past and future, eager to advise and be of service, but unable to alter what he knows must be.

From his earliest appearance in medieval literature, Merlin has remained among the most popular characters in the legends. He may have originally been a fertility god or spirit, feared or revered for his great wisdom and magical abilities, and this concept of Merlin was revived in 19th-century CE romantic literature. Since then, he has appeared in or influenced numerous works of fiction, film, and other media, almost always depicted or referenced in this same way, as a powerful mage.

Name & Origin

Merlin first appears in literature in the History of the Kings of Britain by the Welsh cleric Geoffrey of Monmouth (c. 1100 - c. 1155 CE). The Merlin character's name is not a proper name (designating an individual in this case) but a toponym (a place name), specifically the Welsh Caermyrddin (“Merlin's Town”), referring to the city of Carmarthen, Merlin's birthplace. Geoffrey Latinized Myrddin as Merlinus because the strict Latinization of Merdinus would have associated the name with the Latin merdus (feces, dung). The character originated in Welsh folklore featuring the wildman-in-the-woods motif, a half-savage who lived on the fringe of civilization possessing great power and wisdom.

The most famous Welsh wildman was Myrddin Wyllt (“Myrddin the Wild”), a 6th-century CE bard who was said to have gone insane after a particularly bloody battle and retreated to the woods. Geoffrey wrote a short work, The Prophecies of Merlin (c. 1130 CE), prior to his famous history but this Merlin has nothing to do with the wizard of the Arthurian Legends. After the success of his History, Geoffrey wrote another work, The Life of Merlin (c. 1150 CE), in which the main character exhibits magical and prophetic skills but this work is unconnected to the Arthurian Legends.

Continue reading...

[adventuresofalgy]

When Algy woke up the next morning, he found that Jack Frost had been dancing about in the night, for the world had been decorated with a beautiful coating of stiff white crystals, and the grasses which had been sadly limp and soggy now stood proud and crisp.

No doubt Jack Frost's visit had been enabled by the clearing skies, for when the sun eventually managed to rise above the hilltops, Algy observed that it had an empty sky of blue all to itself, and evidently rejoiced in the unusual phenomenon, for it began to light up every little thing it could reach, including Algy's hair 😀

Perching on some frozen grass to admire the effect, Algy would have liked to linger for a while, but the ground sent a penetrating chill through his tail feathers and – although he had remembered to wear his warm new Christmas scarf – he began to shiver, so he deemed it prudent to move on, pausing only to recite a wintry poem to a passing blackbird who was looking for food:

A frost came in the night and stole my world And left this changeling for it - a precocious Image of spring, too brilliant to be true: White lilac on the window-pane, each grass-blade Furred like a catkin, maydrift loading the hedge. The elms behind the house are elms no longer But blossomers in crystal, stems of the mist That hangs yet in the valley below, amorphous As the blind tissue whence creation formed. The sun looks out and the fields blaze with diamonds Mockery spring, to lend this bridal gear For a few hours to a raw country maid, Then leave her all disconsolate with old fairings Of aconite and snowdrop! No, not here Amid this flounce and filigree of death Is the real transformation scene in progress, But deep below where frost Worrying the stiff clods unclenches their Grip on the seed and lets the future breathe.

[Algy is thinking of the poem A Hard Frost by the 20th century Anglo-English poet Cecil Day-Lewis.]

[regexkind]

When I was in grammar school, we were made to study poetry. Unfortunately, my prepubescent self, though precocious, lacked in diligence. I was assigned Samuel Taylor Coleridge's The Knight's Tomb, which was comparatively short—unlike the poor wretch who was assigned the full and untranslated Beowulf for recitation. When the day of the assembly came, I confess I had spent my time so well as to only recall the first line. However, I remembered that like many poets, Coleridge rhymed his verses, and I was not sufficiently daunted by the sea of staring faces as to lose my nerve. I thought fast, and declaimed, in sonorous tones:

"Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O'Kellyn?

I know, good man—but I'm not tellin'!"

I was then overcome by a fit of villainous cackling, which continued unabated for over a minute until the headmaster pulled me from the podium by my ear. The asymmetry still lingers, but then, so does the pride.

[jessource]

prompts:　ttpd, the anthology by taylor swift.

your location, you forgot to turn it off.

the only thing that's left is the manuscript, one last souvenir from my trip to your shores

could it be enough to just float in your orbit?

quick, quick, tell me something awful, like you are a poet trapped inside the body of a finance guy.

i just don't understand how you don't miss me.

now and then she rereads the manuscriptof the entire torrid affair.

if you wanna tear my world apart, just say you've always wondered.

if comfort is a construct, i don't believe in good luck.

i move through the world with a broken heart.

they killed cassandra first, 'cause she feared the worst.

don't want money, just someone who wants my company.

say it once again with feeling.

even statues crumble if they're made to wait.

we here-by conduct the post portem.

what doesn't kill you makes you awake.

they tried to warn you about me.

i'm not a doner, but i'd give you my heart if you wanted.

i got cursed like eve got bitten.

i hate it here so i will go to secret gardens in my mind.

i feel so high school every time i look at you.

I look in people's windows like i'm some deranged weirdo.

there wouldn't be this if there hadn't been you.

she wrotе headlines in the local paper, laughing at each baby step i'd take.

one bad seed kills the garden.

when the truth comes out, it's quiet.

you see, i was a debutante in another life.

you have a favorite spot on the swing set.

the empathetic hunger descends.

i'm addicted to the 'if only'.

he said that if the sex was half as good as the conversation was, soon they'd be pushin' strollers. soon it was over.

oh, we must stop meeting like this.

way to go, tiger.

i built a legacy that you can't undo.

you said some things that i can't unabsorb, you turned me into an idea of sorts.

i may never open up the way i did for you.

he was a cad, wanted her bad just like any good trophy hunter.

tell me about the first time you saw me.

they knew, they knew, they knew the whole time.

i don't think you've changed much.

you have no room in your dreams for regrets.

they set my life in flames.

i thought it was just goodbye for now.

i loved you the way that you were.

you're a just ruler covered in mud, you look ridiculous.

i'm there most of the year, 'cause i hate it here.

you saw my bones out with somebody new who seemed like he would've bullied you in school.

how did it end? i can't pretend like i understand.

this place made me feel worthless.

i wanna find you in a crowd, just to hide from you.

quick, quick. tell me something awful.

i won't confess that i waited, but i let the lamp burn.

i can't forgive the way you made me feel.

Buried down deep

out of your reach the secret we all vowed to keep it from you in sweetness.

splendidly selfish, charmingly helpless.

old habits die screaming.

i'm lonely, but i'm good.

in my fantasies, i rise about it.

forgive me, [name], please know that i tried.

if i sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet. will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon?

behind her back, her best mates laughed.

you needed me, but you needed drugs more, and i can't watch it happen.

she's the albatross, she is here to destroy you.

i'll tell you one thing, honey. i can tell when somebody still wants me.

were you makin' fun of me?

nostalgia is a mind's trick.

i read about it in a book when I was a precocious child.

does it feel alright to now know me?

excellent fun 'til you get to know her.

life was always easier on you.

tell me all your secrets, all you'll ever be.

it wasn't a fair fight.

if i die screaming, i hope you hear it.

i can confirm she made a curious child, ever reviled by everyone except her own father.

are you gonna marry, kiss or kill me?

i'm bitter, but i swear i'm fine.

all that time you were throwin' punches, i was buildin' somethin'.

one less temptress, one less dagger to sharpen.

i'm hearing voices like a madman.

you said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

but i can't forget the way you made me heal.

they nicknamed her 'the bolter'.

wise men once said 'wild winds are death to the candle'.

now i wanna sell my house and set fire to all my clothes.

i'm gonna get you back.

push the reset button, we're becomin' something new.

i'm watchin' american pie with you on a saturday night.

i'm an aston martin that you steered straight into the ditch.

[taylortruther]

Really interesting article about Taylor/TTPD in the nation thenationdotcom/article/culture/taylor-swift-tortured-poets-department/

oooh excellent find bestie, thank you - and i love that this writer picked up the a plot, b plot, and c plot (depressed boy, chaotic boy, precocious girl), as we've been discussing them here!

notable quotes:

this excellent observation about so long london: The song’s bridge (a London bridge?) adds, emphasizing the singer’s American-style r’s: “It isn’t right to be scared / Every day of a love affair… / When you’re not sure if he wants to be there.”

The Taylor Swift we meet on The Tortured Poets Department needs to be seen, fears vanishing under the water or below the ice (see “The Bolter”) if she’s not heard and admired, and yet she knows that the strain of constant performance could destroy anyone, even her. 

How does it feel to receive, from such a young age, such great rewards for being and doing what other people expect? (Swift was born in 1989; her first album came out in 2006.) How does it feel to become a public symbol of pop success or romantic distress (see “The Prophecy”)? Can she ever stop? But how can she go on?

In this sense, Swift —who famously induces fans to buy more and more records—comes across as an engine of capitalism, its creation but also its victim. Her participation in the world economy, her ability to give us product, to produce the feelings we demand, becomes part of her identity. 

Follow your romantic, erotic heart. But do not give up the rest of your life for love; do not hang your happiness or your future on a particular boy. 

[scotianostra]

15th January 1803 saw the birth of Marjory Fleming at Kirkcaldy.

Marjory "Pet" Fleming was an extraordinary child prodigy, left poems, letters and a journal that are now one of the treasures of the National Library of Scotland; and in 1889 Sir Leslie Stephen, Virginia Woolf's father, wrote an entry about her for the original Dictionary of National Biography, believing that 'no more fascinating infantile author has ever appeared. What makes this all the more remarkable is, Marjory was a mere 8 years old when she died.

A distant relative and said to be admired by Sir Walter Scott, although there is no real evidence they ever met Robert Louis Stevenson and Mark Twain also thought highly of her, Marjory Fleming was a child prodigy poet.

Marjory spent most of her sixth, seventh and eighth years in Edinburgh being tutored by her teenage cousin, Isabella Keith. Isabella is mentioned is the somewhat odd opening line of Marjory’s famous journal: ‘Many people are hanged for Highway robbery Housebreking Murder &c. &c. Isabella teaches me everything I know and I am much indebted to her she is learnen witty & sensible.’

Marjory returned to Kirkcaldy in July 1811, but wrote on 1 September to her cousin, ‘We are surrounded with measles at present on every side’. She herself contracted measles in November and although she apparently recovered, died in December from what is now thought to have been meningitis. She was a month short of her ninth birthday.

Marjory was an accomplished and witty poet and diarist although she was not published until 50 years after her death. Her writings became hugely popular in the Victorian period albeit with the published editions severely altered as some her her language was thought inappropriate for an eight year old. The first account of her was given by a London journalist in the Fife Herald and reprinted as a booklet entitled Pet Marjorie: a Story of Child Life Fifty Years Ago. The nickname ‘Pet’ and the spelling of her name with ‘ie’ were inventions of her biographer: both appear on Marjory’s gravestone in Abbotshall Kirkyard, Kirkcaldy erected in 1930.

Marjory’s precocious intellect is noted in the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography: ‘She records enjoying the poems of Pope and Gray, the Arabian Nights, Ann Radcliff’s ‘misteris [sic] of udolpho’, the Newgate calendar, and ‘tails’ by Maria Edgworth and Hannah More.’ Her abilities are also apparent in the pithy comments in her journal and in her valiant attempts to write in rhyming couplets.

Robert Louis Stevenson is quoted as saying, ‘Marjory Fleming was possibly – no, I take back possibly – she was one of the noblest works of God.’

[darkchocolatedimples]

the tortured poets department (sponsored by my procrastination)

excuse my essays for each song the lyrics are so interesting to me so there’s like actual analyzation for each one.

fortnight - dex

that lingering resentment disguised by surface level friendship is that not literally him and sophie come on. “run into you sometimes, ask about the weather” the awkwardness!! “your wife waters flowers, i want to kill her” he was the #1 fitz hater for multiple reasons after all (although i think he was over it by the time keefe became prominent)

the tortured poets department - sophie

this is so keefe from her perspective come on “you’re in self sabatoge mode, throwing spikes down the road, but i’ve seen this episode and still love the show” “i chose this cyclone with you” “sometimes i wonder if you’re gonna screw this up with me. but you told [biana] that you’d kill yourself if i ever leave. and i had said that to [dex] about you so i felt seen. everyone we know understands why we’re meant to be.” also let’s be so real keefes drawing journals + goodbye letters, he’s giving tortured poet

my boy only breaks his favorite toys - fitz

guys he’s just a silly little boy with anger issues, and he’s MY silly little boy with anger issues stop hating him 😞 “the voices in his head called the rain to end our days of wild” “he saw forever so he smashed it up” he may have fucked up but it happens!!

down bad - dex

CUZ FUCK IT HE WAS IN LOVE!!! also if i may present to you: “i might just die it would make no difference” in the context that outside of sophie saw no purpose to his own life. he saw himself just as he is presented in the books: as her best friend and nothing more. so in losing that (blaming himself and his own feelings for it) what was left of him? who was left? sophie was also his ONLY friend. not to mention in the context of the fact that when he WAS presumed dead nobody cared, they still cared more about sophie.

so long, london - keefe

no not bc of london actually but because “and you say i abandoned the ship but i was going down with it, my white knuckle dying grip holding tight to your quiet resentment” is actually a direct reference to keefitz’ friendship falling apart as fitz got angrier and keefe got more closed off. “you swore that you loved me but where were the clues?” “im just mad as hell cause i loved this place” me when everglen is no longer keefes safehaven. nor anyone’s for that matter bc its haunted by alvars betrayal and alden’s mind break and fitz’ anger.

but daddy i love him - biana

“i just learned these people only raise you to cage you” “i just learned these people try and save you…cause they hate you” “dutiful daughter all my plans were laid…growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all.” i hate alden vacker. how do u manage to use and fuck up all ur kids by age 12 like wow. “i’ll tell you something about my good name: it’s mine alone to disgrace” she would 100% say this. she would also 100% say “im having his baby! no im not but you should see your faces.”

fresh out the slammer - keefe

sokeefe or keefitz take it as it comes. “in the shade of how he was feeling.” “as i said in my letters.” “my friends try, but i wouldn’t hear it…for just one glimpse of his smile” “swirled you into all of my poems” it’s so him it is truly.

florida!!! - keefe

THIS one’s about london! “well me and my ghosts, we had a hell of a time! yes i’m haunted but im feeling just fine” ethan and eleanor wright who?? “your home’s really only a town you’re just a guest in” candle shade/shores of solace type beat “i need to forget so take me to [london], i have some regrets i’ll bury them in [london]” “i don’t want to exist so take me to [london]” aw bae

guilty as sin? - dex

i don’t know how to explain but i just feel like this feeling of i shouldn’t be doing/feeling this the literal guilt and all these delusions and the sheer intensity of it all is just giving me dex. “this cage was once just fine, am i allowed to cry? i dream of cracking locks, throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks” “i keep these longings locked in lowercase inside a vault” this must be the way he loves if he thinks so little of himself and doesn’t let himself have good things. “i choose you and me religiously” because at the end of the day when he makes a decision or chooses something or someone he puts his all into it.

who’s afraid of little old me - sophie

“you lured me and you hurt me and you taught me. you caged me then you called me crazy. i am what i am cuz you trained me.” all of it’s literally giving her growing into herself in stellarlune and making decisions on her own. SHE IS NOT A PAWN!!!

i can fix him (no really i can) - tam

idk its just giving him defending rayni with his life when everyone else including linh was like who tf is this girl.

loml - fitz

every sad pining song is fitz vacker to me. esp the refrences to the romance being dead but never buried... "still alive killing time at the cemetery, never quite buried...i'm your holy ghost" the way that sophie switched up on him in stellarlune (although i fully support her) didn't give him much time to recover. "are they second-hand embarrased that i can't get out of bed because something counterfiet's dead" give me heartbroken fitz!!! for once instead of angry fitz just give me tired, resigned fitz. "it was legendary, it was momentary, it was unecessary, should've let it stayed buried" is such a good summary of sophitz imo.

i can do it with a broken heart - linh

linh is so interesting to me as a parallel of fitz: meaning she, just like him, is always angry. however she masks it in smiles and kindness the way he never learned to, he just lashes out. this song feels like it’s talking about that mask: “i’m so depressed i act like it’s my birthday everyday” “i can read your mind ‘she’s having the time of her life’ …i can show you lies” “cause im miserable and nobody even knows” “i can hold my breath, i’ve been doing it since [i] left”

the smallest man who ever lived - keefe

it’s giving a letter to cassius/gisela/alvar. “and i don’t even want you back, i just want to know if rusting my sparkling summer was the goal. and i don’t miss what we had” “did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?” “in 50 years will all this be declassified and you’ll confess why you did it, and i’ll say ‘good riddance’” “i would’ve died for your sins instead i just died inside. and you deserve prison but you won’t get time” “in plain sight you hid, but you are what you did. and i’ll forget you but i’ll never forgive.”

the alchemy - sophie

“cause the sign on your heart said it’s still reserved for me. honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?” aw sokeefe.

clara bow - biana

BIANA BEING COMPARED TO HER BROTHERS AND ALL THE VACKERS BEFORE THEM "the crown is stained but you're the real queen" "beauty is a beast that roars, down on all fours, demanding more...its hell on earth to be heavenly" i love her.

the black dog - fitz

bring back petty fitz!! i think the young girl not knowing the starting line could parallel with keefe not being able to understand things about telepathy that really connected fitz and sophie. i also think we could shift the angle and make it about alvars betrayal and how it sparked his angry trauma response. “you said i needed a brave man, then proceeded to play him until i believed it too.” “now i want to sell my house and set fire to all my clothes…even if i die screaming, and i hope you hear it.”

imgonnagetyouback - fitz

he is 100% this delusional. he's just like me. "you'll find that you were never not mine" "even if its handcuffed im leaving here with you." "told my friends i hate you but i love you just the same, pick your poison babe, i'm poison either way"

the albatross - keefe

“one bad seed kills the garden. one less temptress, one less dagger to sharpen.” “the devil that you know looks now more like an angel. i’m the life you chose, and all this terrible danger.” HE IS THE ALBATROSS. i can’t wait for the movie i want edits of him to this. ACTUALLY I WANT A LOT OF THINGS maybe I’ll make a separate post about that.

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus - keefe

you saw it coming. this song SCREAMS KEEFITZ. like- “you said some things that i can’t unabsorb…you needed me but you needed drugs more.” “changed plans and lovers and outfits and rules all to outrun my desertion of you.” “if you want to break my cold cold heart just say ‘i loved you the way that you were’” WHAT THE HECK DUDE IM SOBBING “back to the moment i crashed into you like so many wrecks do” that line solidified this as keefe’s pov for me. in conclusion. SOBBING.

how did it end - biana

i propose to you: not a relationship, but the vacker family falling apart and the way they became a huge subject of gossip in the lost cities. when alden’s mind broke, while fitz had turned to anger biana became depressed, and i think this song could relate to that as well. the whole part of “guess who we ran into at the shops” feels very much like conversations others would have about the vackers at the time and when alvar betrayed them. “soon they’ll go home to their [brothers], smug cause they know they can trust him.” and i think at the end of the day when all of it happened biana was just young and betrayed and lost, because she didn’t see it coming or understand why (who did?) “the deflation of our dreaming, leaving me bereft and reeling” “i can’t pretend like i understand, how did it end?”

so high school - biana

HER VIBES ALL THE WAY she’s so cute and lovely and i want this for her (and dex. specifically dex. not anyone else.)

i hate here - sophie

was leaning dex until “you see i was a debutant in another life but now i seem to be scared of going outside” but the whole idea of escapism applies to both of them. especially to sophie though when she lived with humans and was so alone because even her own family couldn’t understand her, and she canonically is a bookworm and probably found more comfort in those other lives than she ever could in her own. "I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind...i read about it in a book when I was a precious child" "ill get lost on purpose, this place made me feel worthless"

thanK you aIMee - tam

aimee 🤝🏽 the song parents. “everyone knows that my [sister] is a saintly woman. but she used to say she wished that you were dead.” “but when i count the scars there’s a moment of truth: that there wouldn’t be this if there hadn’t been you.” thank you song parents 🫶🏽

i look in people’s windows - fitz

i thought this song sounded so creepy till I actually listened to it and now the idea of like lowkey stalking someone just to see if they still care about you or have moved on is slightly making sense. "does it feel alright to not know me? i'm addicted to the if only." it's giving keefitz (when isn't it?)

the prophecy - dex

"let it once be me, who do i have to speak to about if they can redo the prophecy?" THIS JUST REMINDS ME SO MUCH OF THE BEGINNING OF STELLARLUNE WHEN HES LITERALLY MOURNING WHAT HASN'T EVEN HAPPENED TO HIS BROTHER YET i need more dex being the oldest sibling and shouldering that burden. the love-hate relationship with his siblings while simultaneously trying to make their quality of life so much better than what he had. also "a lesser woman would've lost hope, a greater woman wouldn't beg" is so him. he is so that middle.

cassandra - tam

"so they killed cassandra first cuz she feared the worst...do you believe me now?" "you can mark my words, i said it first. in a mourning warning, no one heard." tam when keefe joined the neverseen fr

peter - keefe

pls tell me you saw this one coming. "are you still a mindreader? a natural scene stealer, I've heard great things [fitz], but life was always easier on you than it was on me." "promises, oceans deep, but never to keep" "forgive me [fitz], my lost fearless leader...from when we were just kids. is it something I did?" i think I'm just in a constant state of mourning their friendship.

the bolter - keefe

obvious reasons but also "i can confirm she made a curious child, ever reviled by everyone but her own father." "hearts are hers for the breaking, there's escape in escaping." "she's got the best stories, you can be sure, as she was leaving, it feels like freedom."

robin - dex

had to do some research for this one but apparently its talking about preserving a child's innocence! for this reason it reminds me again of dex and his siblings because of the way he really wants to protect them from things that haven't happened yet (especially considering rex being talentless). "way to go tiger" definitely sounds like something he would say to them feeling all sentimental but then, knowing siblings, they'd probably grill him about why he's being nice 💀

the manuscript -

we know the drill by now, fitz gets all the breakup songs because they could be about sophie OR keefe. "afterwords, she only ate kid's cereal, and slept in her mother's bed" while the song is discussing reverting back to childhood habits in vulnerability, fitz's vulnerability made him angry (but it was still a big change from his regular self) "looking back might be the only way to move forward" I hope he does get to move on!!! im tired of the love triangle plot if we're not gonna focus on keefitz' friendship 😭

[burningvelvet]

Here are two of the most hilariously scalding letters from the 1800s that I have ever read. One is by the famous writer Lord Byron, and the other is by his daughter Ada Lovelace, the famous mathematician. Both are written to their respective business partners: Byron to his publisher John Murray, and Lovelace to her colleague Charles Babbage. It’s interesting to note how strikingly similar these letters are despite the fact that Ada and her father never knew each other, as her parents separated shortly after her birth and he died abroad when she was eight. Both were rebellious, fond of gambling, prone to tumultuous affairs, and both hated Lady Byron. These similarities may help to explain why her final wish was to be buried next to him instead of her family.

Lord Byron in a Letter to his publisher John Murray about the printing of his magnum opus, the poem Don Juan:

“Ra. August 31st. 1821.

Dear Sir

I have received the Juans – which are printed so carelessly especially the 5th. Canto – as to be disgraceful to me — & not creditable to you.

It really must be gone over again with the Manuscript – the errors are so gross – words added – changed – so as to make cacophony & nonsense. — You have been careless of this poem because some of your Synod don’t approve of it – but I tell you – it will be long before you see any thing half so good as poetry or writing. — Upon what principle have you omitted the note on Bacon & Voltaire? and one of the concluding stanzas sent as an addition? because it ended I suppose – with –

‘And do not link two virtuous souls for life Into that moral Centaur man & wife?’

Now I must say once for all – that I will not permit any human being to take such liberties with my writings – because I am absent. —

I desire the omissions to be replaced (except the stanza on Semiramis) particularly the stanza upon the Turkish marriages – and I request that the whole be carefully gone over with the M.S.S. –

I never saw such stuff as is printed – Gulleyaz – instead of Gulbeyaz &c. Are you aware that Gulbeyaz is a real name – and the other nonsense? – I copied the Cantos out carefully – so that there is no excuse – as the Printer reads or at least prints the M.S.S. of the plays without error. —

If you have no feeling for your own reputation pray have some little for mine. — I have read over the poem carefully – and I tell you it is poetry – Your little envious knot of parson-poets may say what they please — time will show that I am not in this instance mistaken. — Desire my friend Hobhouse to correct the press especially of the last Canto from the Manuscript – as it is – it is enough to drive one out of one’s senses – to see the infernal torture of words from the original. – For instance the line

‘And pair their rhymes as Venus yokes her doves’

Is printed

‘and praise their rhymes &c. –

also ‘precarious’ for ‘precocious’ – and this line. stanza 133.

‘And this strong extreme effect – to tire no longer’

Now do turn to the Manuscript – & see – if I ever made such a line – it is not verse. —

No wonder the poem should fail – (which however it wont you will see) with such things allowed to creep about it. – – Replace what is omitted – – & correct what is so shamefully misprinted, – and let the poem have fair play – – and I fear nothing. — I see in the last two Numbers of the Quarterly – a strong itching to assail me (see the review of the “Etonian”) let it – and see if they shan’t have enough of it. – – I don’t allude to Gifford – who has always been my friend – & whom I do not consider as responsible for the articles written by others. – But if I do not give Mr. Milman – Mr. Southey – & others of the crew something that shall occupy their dream! I am not what I was – that is all

I have not begun with the Quarterers – but let them look to it. – As for Milman (you well know I have not been unfair to his poetry ever) but I have lately had some information of his critical proceedings in the Quarterly which may bring that on him which he will be sorry for. – I happen to know that of him – Which would annihilate him – when he pretends to preach morality – not that he is immoral – because he isn’t – having in early life been once too much so. – And dares he set up for a preacher? let him go and be priest to Cybele. – why let

You will publish the plays – when ready — I am in such a humour about this printing of D.J. so inaccurately – that I must close this.

yrs. [scrawl]

P.S. I presume that you have not lost the stanza to which I allude? it was sent afterwards look over my letters – & find it. The Notes you can’t have lost – you acknowledged them – they included eight or little corrections of Bacon’s mistakes in the apothegms. – And now I ask once more if such liberties taken in a man’s absence – are fair or praise-worthy? – As for you you have no opinions of your own – & never had – but are blown about by the last thing said to you no matter by whom.”

[Separate page]

“Dear Sir

The enclosed letter is written in bad humour – but not without provocation. -

However – let it (that is the bad humour) go for little – but I must request your serious attention to the abuses of the printer which ought never to have been permitted. – You forget that all the fools in London (the chief purchasers of your publications) will condemn in me the stupidity of your printer. — For instance in the Notes to Canto fifth – ‘the Adriatic shore of the Bosphorus – instead of the Asiatic!! – All this may seem little to you – so fine a gentleman with your ministerial connections – but it is serious to me – who am thousands of miles off & have no opportunity of not proving myself the fool yr. printer makes me – except your pleasure & leisure forsooth.

The Gods prosper you — & forgive you, for I wont.

B.”

Ada Lovelace in a letter to her work partner Charles Babbage, who she helped invent the computer with:

“Tuesday Afternoon [1 August 1843] Ockham

. . . Note B has plagued me to death; altho' I have made but little alteration in it. Such alterations as there are however, happen to have been very tiresome & to have demanded minute consideration & very nice adjustments.

It is a very excellent Note.

I wish you were as accurate, & as much to be relied on, as I am myself. You might often save me much trouble, if you were; whereas you in reality add to my trouble not infrequently; and there is at any rate always the anxiety of doubting if you will not get me into a scrape; even when you don't.

By the way, I hope you do not take upon yourself to alter any of my corrections.

I must beg you not. They all have some very sufficient reason. And you have made a pretty mess & confusion in one or two places (which I will show you sometime), where you have ventured in my M.S's, to insert or alter a phrase or word; & have utterly muddled the sense.

I could not conceive at first in one or two places what had happened to my sentences; tho' I soon saw they were patchwork & not my own; and found it so, on referring to the M.S. I fear you will think this a very cross letter. Never mind. I am a good little thing, after all. Yours ever

A. A. L.

Later. P. S. It is impossible to send you anything but Notes B and C; (& this partly owing to some wrong references & blunderations of your own). — Do not be afraid, for I will work like the Devil early tomorrow morning. —“

[Separate Page]

“Wednesday, 4 o'clock [2 August 1843] Ockham

After working almost incessantly, since 7 o'clock this morning, until I am forced to give in from sheer inability to apply longer, I find only the sheet I enclose is quite completed. I shall however send a servant up tomorrow morning by a ten o' clock train, to take you all the rest; so that you will have it almost as soon as this letter.

You cannot conceive the trouble I have had with the trigonometrical Note E. — In fact no one but me, I really believe, would have doggedly stuck to it, as I have been doing, in all wearing minutiae.

I am very uneasy at not hearing from you, as I have expected to do both yesterday & today; & fear some disaster or other. I hope all of Note G is forthcoming; & I also hope you have received all my communications safely.

I think you had better do the second revise of the translation for me. If you will compare it carefully with my first revise, it can hardly be necessary I think for me to go over it again.

I suppose I ought to take it for granted that no news is good news; but I am in a sad fidget. — Yours ever

A. L.”