#self portrait against red wallpaper

[poeticjackalope]

"I hope it's love. I'm trying really hard to make it love"

– Richard Siken, Self Portrait against Red Wallpaper

[kaleidoskuls]

the blurriness of being alive

[richardsiken-bot]

People love to hate themselves, avoiding the necessary recalibrations. Shame comes from vanity. Shame means you’re guilty, like the rest of us, but you think you’re better than we are. Maybe you are.

[michellehshen]

“I clawed my way into the light but the light is just as scary. I’d rather quit. I’d rather be sad. It’s too much work.”

— Richard Siken, “Self-Portrait against Red Wallpaper” from War of the Foxes

[richardsikendaily]

[text ID:  People love to hate themselves, avoiding the necessary recalibrations. Shame comes from vanity. Shame means you’re guilty, like the rest of us, but you think you’re better than we are. /end ID]

[teeganhorat]

An artwork by myself, inspired by a poem by Richard Siken.

Self-Portrait Against Red Wallpaper

Close the blinds and kill the birds, I surrender

my desire for a logical culmination. I surrender my

desire to be healed. The blurriness of being alive.

Take it or leave it, and for the most part you take it.

Not just the idea of it but the ramifications of it.

People love to hate themselves, avoiding the

necessary recalibrations. Shame comes from vanity.

Shame means you’re guilty, like the rest of us,

but you think you’re better than we are. Maybe you

are. What would a better me paint? There is no

new me, there is no old me, theres just me, the same

me, the whole time. Vanity, vanity, forcing your

will on the world. Don’t try to make a stronger wind,

you’ll wear yourself out. Build a better sail. You

want to solve something? Get out of your own way.

What’s the difference between me and the world?

Compartmentalisation. The world doesn’t know

what to do with my love. Because it isn’t used to

being loved. It’s a framework problem. Disheartening?

Obviously. I hope it’s love. I’m trying really hard

to make it love. I said no more severity. I said it severely

and slept through all my appointments. I clawed

my way into the light but the light is just as scary.

I’d rather quit. I’d rather be sad. It’s too much work.

Admirable? Not really. I hate my friends. And when

I hate my friends I’ve failed myself, failed to share

my compassion. I shine a light on them of my own

making; septic, ugly, the wrong yellow. I mean, maybe

it’s better if my opponent wins.

[lustmord]

Asked for inspo and @leisurelypepper said "self-portrait against red wallpaper" so here's 'partial self-portrait in red wall' thanks pepper and also Richard siken

[ovovivip]

richard siken - self portrait against red wallpaper // neil hilborn - the future // crywank - leech boy // l.j. crown - mountain // sabrina benaim - explaining my depression to my mother // l.j. crown - kintsukuroi

[gettingintoknives]

Richard Siken, self-portrait against red wallpaper

[annieharts]

i hope it’s love, i’m trying really hard to make it love 

[richardsiken-bot]

I hope it’s love. I’m trying really hard to make it love

[michellehshen]

“I surrender my desire to be healed. The blurriness of being alive.”

— Richard Siken, “Self-Portrait against Red Wallpaper” from War of the Foxes

[richardsikendaily]

A Primer for the Small Weird Loves  /  Self Portrait Against Red Wallpaper

[adrasteiax]

I surrender my desire to be healed. The blurriness of being alive. Take it or leave it, and for the most part you take it.

Richard Siken, from Self-Portrait Against Red Wallpaper in “War Of The Foxes”

[poseypoesy]

colour theory

i wear orange       i hold lemon on my tongue      until it doesn’t sting anymore             i rhapsodize on light      lament time        i don’t pretend yellow is anything   other than yellow     i memorize the skin and hair   of everyone i know      until       i wouldn’t be surprised if it were my own                 i wake with sore feet   but i relish it      because it’s morning          because it’s May           because i might                   i let the robins go       i wish the bees good luck         i fold up every       terrible thing     and put them in the soles of my shoes          i unfold myself        i lay myself out       on a bedspread               as a body            as a blueprint but     i am not an architect    or  a  carpenter   or    even that good at math    i just      see the colour of it                i’m still warring               between the shades                        between  the light and dark of it      the cliche of it  all   

[halflunar]

There is no new me, there is no old me, there's just me, the same me, the whole time. Vanity, vanity, forcing your will on the world.

Richard Siken, Self-Portrait Against Red Wallpaper