#there will be feasting and dancing in jerusalem next year

[afaramir]

2024

THROW YOUR PHONE IN THE RIVER

NOT REALLY. THERE'S FRIENDS IN THERE. BUT FOR AT LEAST A COUPLE HOURS A DAY

SEE YOUR FRIENDS

NOT EVERY THRIFT TRIP WILL BE A WIN

GO FETCH A LEAF EVERY DAY

KILL THE OVERHEAD LIGHT

MAKE WEIRDER ART

READ. LIKE AT LEAST ONCE A WEEK. YES I MEAN A PUBLISHED BOOK. FANFICTION DOES NOT COUNT

THE FIVE DOLLARS IT COSTS TO GET ON THE TRAIN IS WORTH GOING SOMEWHERE NEW TO WALK AROUND

LEAVE THE FUNCTION BEFORE YOU STOP HAVING A GOOD TIME

GROW GREEN ONIONS IN YOUR WINDOW

BUY YOURSELF FLOWERS

BUT THROW THEM OUT BEFORE THEY GET GROSS & MAKE YOU SAD

REMEMBER SOMETIMES YOU NEED TO BE ALONE. ALSO REMEMBER SOMETIMES YOU FEEL INSANE BECAUSE YOU NEED TO SEE ANOTHER PERSON. BOTH OF THESE EXIST AT THE SAME TIME. IT'S OKAY TO GET IT WRONG SOMETIMES

IT'S OKAY TO GET IT WRONG SOMETIMES

IT'S OKAY TO GET IT WRONG SOMETIMES

ITS OKAY IF A DAY IS BAD. THERE WILL BE ANOTHER

[kritischetheologie]

Happy New Year, my beloveds. I think about where I was, a year ago, and where I am now, and it's the same type of dizzying as thinking about the size of the milky way galaxy. I wish I could wrap my December 31, 2022 self up in a blanket and tell her how 2023 goes-- that it's the hardest year of her life, in so many ways, but also the best. That no matter how scary the prospect of motion is, it's better than stasis. That she's brave enough and strong enough for all of it, so much braver and stronger than she thinks.

That's what I wish for you all, for 2024: I wish you a year full of life. A year of occasions you have no option but rise to, of the clarity that only comes in the aftermath of action, of being surprised by the things the world confronts you with when you open yourself to it. A year in which you choose, wholeheartedly, instead of lingering in the waiting room of your own lives.

You are so much braver and stronger than you think, and you are capable of so much. Let yourself shine, and see how far you go when you're traveling at the speed of light.

Here's to 2024.

[levaagrace]

Did my yearly listen through of This Year by The Mountain Goats and hmmmmm. Hits even harder.

[mcb3k]

Stephen Colbert Joins The Mountain Goats To Perform 'This Year'

[jadipose]

Sounds like the stars are aligning! You can afford the food hangover tomorrow!

Alright, alright!!! Yo+u've twisted my arm and fo+rced me into+ it <3 I'm co+o+king no+w

[highwaydiamonds]

[spiritunwilling]

every single day of my life i stare at lines written by people and wonder if they're making a tmg reference or just citing a line from scripture or a pro wrestling promo or something else somewhere that tmg also happened to reference

[fagmegumi]

this year’s “this year” session has started on dec 25th. happy holidays

[regenderate]

thinking about dimension hopping rose and this year by the mountain goats...

[afaramir]

2023:

GET UP COWARD

[aliaoftheknives]

[white-knuckling my bathroom sink] there will be feasting and dancing in jerusalem next year 

[uhode]

one must imagine sisyphus feasting and dancing in jerusalem next year

[aropride]

(ID: text surrounded by several stick figures committing acts of violence. the text reads, "me when there will be feasting and dancing in jerusalem next year". end ID)

i am gonna make it though this year if it kills me

[reani]

we have yet to introduce a word that describes the emotion u feel while listening to the sunset tree. the sunset tree emotion. i am young and i am good. it breaks my heart in half (in half) when i see them try to fly— cus you just can’t do— things your body wasn’t meant to. the magpie will come midday and you will go down on all fours. there will be feasting and dancing in Jerusalem next year. there’s gonna come a day when you feel better. i’m gonna bribe the officials i’m gonna kill all the judges it’s gonna take you people years to recover from all of the damage. she told me how you died at last (at last). there’s this great big you and little old me. snakes in the grass beneath our feet rain in the clouds above some moments last forever, others flare out with love love love

[rosewaterandivy]

a fool without a cause | track 1: the plan (fuck jobs)

🎶 My body is a temple, how much d’ya think I could get for it? 🎶

summary: a meet ugly

word count: <700 words

warnings: 18 + for eventual smut, empire records AU | The gang are in their early twenties, college-aged, cursing, name calling, vague mentions of crime

a/n: ah yes, this brainrot sees the light of day. here we go!

Series masterlist | Playlist | Currently spinning: 

Eddie Munson was decidedly not a morning person.

So his presence at the old opera house of Recycled Books & Records before his usual shift was startling, to say the least. Even more so was the fact that he seemed to be awake.

Smoking a cigarette by the service entrance of the building as the sleepy town of Hawkins rose to greet a new day. Leaning against the wall like he could not be bothered to hold himself upright in his usual spot near the graffiti’d red devil. Just minding his own business, enjoying the last drag from his cigarette when a Prius careened around the corner like a bat out of hell.

He stubbed out his cigarette in an abandoned planter that had long ago been sacrificed for the cause. RIP Audrey II. Crossing his arms, he leaned back against the wall waiting to see who emerged from the car. It was well-maintained, from what he could tell, a ding or two on the bumper with a sticker that proclaimed ‘Ask me about my lobotomy!’

It also had an above-average stereo system, based on the volume and reverb of the baseline thumping from the car. Eddie could just make out the driver in the front seat singing to themselves as they flipped the visor down to mess with their hair. He can faintly hear the impassioned exclamation of “There will be feasting and dancing in Jerusalem next year!”

The driver bopped in their seat to the rest of the song and donned a pair of wayfarers that would give Harrington a run for his money. The engine was finally cut, and the door opened and you stepped out, still singing the final verse of the song you made your way to the sidewalk in front of the store.

Eddie straightened up a bit at that. Around his age, if he had to guess, give or take. Sporting denim cut-offs, Converse that had been beat to hell, and a flannel tied into some sort of cropped thing which he very much approved of. Now, it wasn’t that this mystery girl hadn’t intrigued him, just a rather unfortunate case of foot-in-mouth-syndrome.

Case in point:

“What the hell were you listening to?”

And yeah, that was on him. His tone could’ve been more genial and less frustration laced with exhaustion. He scrubs a hand down his face, mortified at his implication.

A slow turn accompanied by a withering stare. “Excuse me?”

“Sounded like some indie shit.” He leans against the wall again, “Weird choice of hype song s’all I’m saying.”

“Huh,” You scoff. “Well, I don’t recall asking for your opinion, dickbag.”

“Woah there, sweetheart! Wouldn’t wanna give a guy the wrong idea there.” He shoves his bands in his pockets, “I mean, at least it wasn’t Fall Out Boy or something.”

“Fall Out Boy is pop-punk, first of all.” Followed by a huff, an arched brow and crossed arms. “My apologies for not rolling through with Between the Buried and Me or some other prog-metal bullshit, I didn’t realize I’d be in the presence of the arbiter of taste this morning.”

Oh.

Eddie likes the scathing bite to your retort more than he should. He appreciates a good banter, thinks you can give as good as you can take.

He shrugs, benevolently. “S’not your fault you don’t have good taste. Can’t win ‘em all.”

“Isn’t it time you drop dead from emphysema or something?”

And before he can reply and dig himself in deeper, Hopper unlocks the front doors of the store. Without so much as a goodbye, you turn on your heel and leave.

Great job Munson, another successful human interaction!

Eddie yanks open the service door and stomps into the employee lounge. And makes himself comfortable on the couch, mentally replaying the interaction and highlighting everywhere he’d gone wrong.

On the bright side, at least he’d never have to see you again.

Famous last words.

[this-is-a-podcast-fanblog]

I was listening to "This Year" by The Mountain Goats (as I usually do on New Year's Day) and there was one line that just really hit different going into 2024.

"There will be feasting and dancing in Jerusalem next year."

Isn't that sort of what "from the river to the sea" is all about? Despite everything, there is hope and Palestine will one day be free, and Palestinians in Jerusalem and in Gaza and in Jordan and everywhere else will feast and dance. They will grow olive trees and celebrate on their own land. There will be an end to the occupation and rebuilding will begin.

And that won't erase the genocide, and that won't bring back the dead. That won't undo the seventy five years of oppression that Isn'treal has inflicted onto Palestinians. Yet Palestinians still have hope for a free Palestine and it's not for us as international allies to say "oh well, there's nothing we can do." We have to keep fighting for Palestine. We have to remember, and we have to hope. Mourn for the dead, fight like hell for the living. The fight is not over and we can't all just move on.

There will be feasting and dancing in Jerusalem, Palestine, next year, and the year after that, and the year after that, and on into forever. Palestine will be free.