I would like to bathe in a river of roses
Please take care of my darling for me, old world of ours. Please give more smiles than scraped knees. Good tears, and dancing, and rainbow lights scattered along the ceiling. Give dappled sunlight beneath leaves of whispering green. Give windows-down nights and wind through dancing hair. My darling belongs to the sunrise and the star speckled sky. Be kind to my darling, dear old life of ours.
-from me to you🧸
I was so young when I behaved twenty-five
yet now I find
I've grown into
a tall child
-Mitski, "first love/late spring"
Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf
This story sounds familiar hmmMMmM🤔
i go to the shop and I ask if they have any raspberries. they say no, they used to sell raspberries, but they haven't had any in stock in the last 15 years. I ask if there's somewhere else I can go to buy raspberries. They say no, with confidence and pride, they're the only shop around who has ever sold or will ever sell raspberries. Other shops might sell other fruit, sure, but they have a monopoly on all raspberries forever. I ask if they're possibly planning on them selling them again in future? they say they can't tell me that.
on the way home, I encounter someone eating raspberries. I ask and they tell me that they grow their own, they got some seeds from the shop back in The Raspberry Days and kept them. They take me to a field of many beautiful raspberry plants and invite me to pick my own, they're free for all the town to pick whenever they'd like.
someone comes up behind us. It's the shop manager, President of Nintendo Shuntaro Furukawa. he hatefully throws a bob-omb that blows up and kills both of us instantly for stealing 200 trillion dollars worth of potential Raspberry Shop That Doesn't Do Raspberries Anymore profits that they weren't making and then he turns around to the camera with a big thumbs up and says don't do piracy or something ok please
Me when I've got a handful of shenanigans:
That stage in the crush where you listen to maneater songs so you don't crash out waiting for a text even though deep down you're just a lovergirl and you just wanna hold hands and talk about anime.
*trips over several branches*
*alerts Bigfoot*
*Bigfoot chases me*
*i trip over more branches*
*Bigfoot helps me wrap up my sprained ankle and we have some s'mores together while he regales me with tales of old and I struggle to explain supermarkets.*
Tiny paradise
*doubles over in agony*
You like a woman shaped like an absence / You like a woman who you can read like a mystery / You like an actress, ready and willing to recreate your favorite pornography / You like a good gander at your own reflection / You like a woman who is a mirror / She's flat, and bright, and all about you / You like a woman like a deer in the road / Crushed beneath your careless wheels / She's a mangled mess of thin, knotted limbs / But it's her own fault / She saw your lights and she froze / You like a woman like a blunt instrument / She's an implement to inflict injuries of your own self-hatred / You like a woman who you can put in a trophy case / So that you can invite other men to come have a gaze / So that other men can look at her and pat you on the back / So that other men can covet what you have / And just maybe that will heal the wound in the shape of your dad / You like a woman in the shape of a lack / She's a beautiful gap for you to fill / She's a handy little rag to clean up your spills / You like a woman you can burn through as quickly as striking a matchstick / You like a woman you can grift / After all, what use is having her if it says nothing of your own cleverness? / You want a woman like a party-trick / That, or a dog you can kick / You want to toss your stick out into the wilderness / Sit back and watch as she faithfully runs off to retrieve / You want a woman who won't ask you to stay / You want a woman who will never leave
We are connected to eachother through legend and myth.
"We are, as a species, addicted to story. Even when the body goes to sleep, the mind stays up all night, telling itself stories."
–Jonathan Gottshall
18+ bi. Poetry, rambles, and descending into madness
98 posts