There Is No Force Of Nature That Says “come Here” Like The Ocean

Elizabeth Bishop, The Complete Poems 1927-1979; from 'The Moose'

Fill me with desire, I've been parched these last hundred years, died too young, left my heart out on a bookcase then forgotten, I forgot to want myself and everything I grew into.

I forgot to write and love it.

I forgot to love the darkness inside of me, the shadows that held my jaw and pulled me into you.

I forgot that you held everything I ever wanted and feared, that I traded love for fear.

My desire has not completely left, I still want everything that I lost and will feel again.

I still want you.

Thursday, 23rd September 2021

We are captured by a subconscious searching for recognition and a meaning that is found beating through everything - like the arteries and veins twisting along the ground where walks our feet. 

This is an old journal I upcycled that I now use for story writing ideas when I'm on the go or if I have an idea I need to research or pursue further. I used the covers from the original journal, some exercise books, some scrap materials, and a ton of glue. And I mean a ton - I'm sure if it ever got to 35 degrees here then all the glue would melt and the journal would fall apart. Oh, and the buttons are purely decorational and serve no purpose other than I used material with buttonholes in it for the spine. It would just look weird if there were buttonholes but no buttons, I guess.

Julia de Burgos, tr. by Heather Rosario Sievert, from These Are Not Sweet Girls: Poetry by Latin American Women; "Transmutation"

[Text ID: "To love you / I have detached the world from my shoulders, / and have remained desert in sea and star, / simple / like the light."]

All houses are haunted. Everywhere I’ve ever lived has been haunted

1. Ash, Tracy K Smith 2. Anatomy, Kitty Horrorshow 3. Little talks, Of Monsters and Men 4. Doctor Who 5. Why are you haunted: a survey, Joan Tierney 6. I know the end, Phoebe Bridgers 7. Dark Places: The Haunted House in Film, Barry Curtis 8. The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, John Koenig 9. Things We Say in the Dark, Kirsty Logan 10. Ghosts in the attic

When the people you are closest to, who may even know you more than you know yourself, call you fearless and strong when you start doubting yourself, it makes you realise that there is a whole part of yourself that only others see and believe in. And maybe you could start believing in that too.

Waking up to a thousand songs

each hour, they chime and sing,

I knew they would never sing again 

if there was no new day to bring

.

They mark the time with beak and wing

its slow passing now my desire;

forever bound to their floating song, 

forever bound to their charming fire

we are that which is foreign; daisies which drift & dwell upon the air of elegance, delicately untouched by the vast twine of such sorrow, only ever shared but never held & never seen.

Dont talk to me OR my gaping wound ever again