Self-loving poet ♍︎ he/him/his | internationally recognized sweetheart
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'wah wah everywhere is falling to the right wing the whole world is doomed' literally like 6 months ago we were talking about how there was a trend in countries getting rid of their right wing governments. poland at the end of last year, france voted in a unified centre left/left alliance, even the UK finally got rid of the tories after 15 years (right wing splitting be damned, it still happened). outside of europe, bangladesh removed a dictator in like 2 seconds, india may have reelected their Evil Guy but on a DISTINCTLY reduced majority, theres been queer rights successes in thailand, with gay marriage set to be legal by 2025, and thereve been positive court cases on it in japan. and this is just stuff i vaguely remember hearing about. im sure theres more if you care to look for anything aside from more reasons to make yourself miserable
the US has a distinct effect on everyone, so this won't be fun for anyone (least of all its population. sorry guys), and there ARE a lot of people sliding into right wing extremism, but presenting this like its an unchallenged worldwide phenomenon is inaccurate, its damagingly bleak, and all it does is encourage despair and apathy. you DO have political power, and you shouldnt forget that just because of bad election results and the media's desperation to make you lose hope
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I turn off the yellow lights so the bathroom is only red. The sound of the cheap projector spinning, humming quietly, endlessly. I close the door and I lock it and then close the door and I lock it and then I stand under the water. The drugs round the corners of the shower slightly and I'm able to stick my hand through the tile if I want but only if I want. I will always look for a crack in the wall through which to feel it. To touch it. To put it in my mouth and my mouth on it. It's easier when it is dark and when it is cold or when it is suffocatingly hot but always when I'm alone. It does not come to me where other people can see it, unless I take the drugs, at which point no one can see me though I can see all of them. I want to stare at the sun for a while, but not nakedly. Instead I hang up quilt over quilt and watch it try to get through. I want to take more drugs because I want to get high because I want to see it and wrap myself up in it. Maybe I should do drugs before I do interviews. I make all my music high out of my mind, it seems silly to talk about it later while sober. Do I even know what I'm talking about when I'm sober? I'm recounting a memory of an experience I had with God, now with God having left the room. I don't have to explain to you what I'm talking about it, you already know. I don't care who you are, you know. You've been alone at least once in your life so you know. I blacked out every window of my bedroom in the attic in Pennsylvania and I rocked back and forth on my bed with the drugs and I cried asking for it to come to me. I want it all the time. I am so angry that it will let me near but it won't let me stay. It's so cruel. It laughs at me when I realize we are not the same. I'm going to take more drugs and get in the shower and put my hand through the tile. I know you can hear me. It's happening to everybody.
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how do you deal with the insane amount of imposter syndrome that comes with making art?
if i can't be the me that i think i should be, i just become something else
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My Fig Tree Reprised
What I want to take from this life
might not be mine to keep, as you can see
I'll tell a soul or two, what im longing to be
I could be a Physician
my ambition being fulfilled for every breath,
and by men who halted their mission
Praying to me for a deathless death.
Then there's living, scratch-for-a-dime
where I'll inevitably move in and pay rent,
I'll say to myself it'll be fine
but it's going to be different
Maybe it'll make sense for me
to sit in silence more and admire the mess
Because dying is an art like anything else.
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parent-child dynamics are soooo crazy. i love you i resent you i can't stand you i adore you i pity you. and still watching your hair get a little more grey every time i see you makes my stomach feel weird
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FOUND family??? you think i just found them like this??? babes this is FORGED family. Me & the bros were scrap metal in a junkyard (very valuable, very sharp, very dangerous, uncared for) and we GOT IN THE FUCKING FIRE TOGETHER. WE did this. we said I AM NOT LEAVING YOU and melted into each other for better or for worse (it’s for better) and we are A FUNCTIONAL UNIT now. DO NOT SEPARATE. BATTERIES FUCKING INCLUDED. FOUND family my ass, we built this non-nuclear family unit from the ground up, don’t devalue this!!! it was is and will be a labour of love!!!
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Im not saying I should be murdered..but it would add to the plot no? You could tell people you followed a bitch that got murdered. Just a concept...
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What is your wechat my dear? I simply must send you a phishing link
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