Dearftrme - Dear Universe

YOU’RE A MONSTER, BUT SO AM I

elektra - sophocles, transl. by anne carson / the overture to tannhäuser - paul cézanne / letter to my rage: an evolution - lidia yuknavitch / elektra - sophocles, transl. by anne carson / easier than lying - halsey / incendies - wajdi mouawad / edit by darkrume​ / ‘things you wanted to say but never did’ project - geloy concepcion / enough - suzanne buffam / the witch doesn’t burn in this one - amanda lovelace / höstsonaten (autumn sonata, 1978) - dir. ingmar bergman / wildflower wildfire - lana del rey / softer, softest - hole /  asoftwrongness / crazed - katherine quinn / feuchtgebiete (wetlands, 2013) - dir. david wnendt / on earth we’re briefly gorgeous - ocean vuong

having good & true friends will literally save and protect you in a million unfathomable ways. like okay we have written so many times about lovers. but the way a platonic friend laughs and cries with you. the way they hold your hand at 14 years old and at 34. the way they keep a little silver tie to you, touching base over and over and over. how you can go years without talking, only to re-meet and discover: oh shit! you're still cool!

there are people who have been in my life for more than half of it, and i have loved every version of them. do you know how fucking beautiful that is. yeah love will save the world. but the way friends love you is gonna save the you.

I just realized it said "want ideas that won't get arrested" KYSSSSSSS DIEDIEDIEEE

It knows me too well... sigh

they make me violently ill

I relate to this so badly.

When I first found out I had DID, it was like a revolving door of alters. Almost everyone would front within a two or three day period. Now the switches are a lot more stable and longer.

Suddenly the little who used to front all the time has fronted maybe like once for maybe an hour in the last two months. The old two main fronters aren't fronting at all, only really me (Klause) and sometimes Winter.

But idk. Maybe it is happening and I'm just not remembering it.

Great soup even

When two characters are dancing around their very obvious feelings for one another. And it’s the night before the big fight. Either of them could very well die. They both know this. One confesses their feelings, the one who’s usually so quiet, so pent up because this love isn’t something they think they deserve. And the other is overjoyed, ready to catch up on years spent pining hopefully from the sidelines. And then the battle happens. The confessor nearly dies. It comes to light they only confessed because they fully intended to die and didn’t want their lover to not know how they really felt. So now they have to navigate this aftermath. How do you deal with knowing your lover loves you, but not enough to live for you? Good soup….

I like shadowsugar and all but I can't help but see their dynamic as this lol

Youth is happy because it has the ability to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.

Franz Kafka

I was talking with my sister last night and it occurred to me that I write a lot of poetry during liminal and intermundane moments. Late at night before I go to sleep. A moment of mental stress. Immediately after awaking from unconsciousness. Feeling trapped between the past and the future. Longing for the beauty of the unattainable past. Stuck in traffic. Out walking at sunset, almost dying from the freezing cold temperature. Meditation on our childhood in the earth. Outside in a thunder storm. Imagining I was out in the woods. Something eerily like demonic possession. Dancing in the rain. Listening to the night sounds at midnight dejection. Melancholy contemplation in an unlit room. A late night obsession. Out, meditating, on a walk. The shock of a murder. Reading apocalyptic literature.

Humans are intermundane beings; thus it only makes sense that our poetry would be the same.