No you won’t ever be exactly the same again and that’s fine, actually.
I’m assuming you’re talking about the ‘died and came back different’ thing?
No, I’m talking about the mundane horror of existing as a human being.
(via tuppnu)
with great power... comes great mental illness
mary / 24 / virgo
trc sideblog: @butchronan
🌻
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2023-08-21 75,995 notes
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Constantly thinking about this thing John Darnielle of The Mountain Goats said about the song “Love, Love, Love”.
The point of the song is, you know, that we are fairly well damaged by the legacy of the Romantic poets–that we think of love as this, you know, thing that is accompanied by strings and it’s a force for good, and if something bad happens then that’s not love. And the therapeutic tradition that I come from–I used to work in therapy–you know, also says that it’s not love if it feels bad. I don’t know so much about that. I don’t know that the Greeks weren’t right. I think they were–that love can eat a path through everything–that it will destroy a lot of things on the way to its own objective, which is just its expression of itself, you know. I mean, my stepfather loved his family, right? Now he mistreated us terribly quite often, but he loved us. And, you know, well, that to me is something worth commenting on in the hopes of undoing a lot of what I perceive as terrible damage in the way people talk about this–love is this benign, comfortable force. It’s not that. It’s wild, you know?
(via tuppnu)
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2023-08-20 224,737 notes
sharp-tender-shock-deactivated2:
This is a comment someone appended to a photo of two men apparently having sex in a very fancy room, but it’s also kind of an amazing two-line poem? “His Wife has filled his house with chintz” is a really elegant and beautiful counterbalancing of h, f, and s sounds, and “chintz” is a perfect word choice here—sonically pleasing and good at evoking nouveau riche tackiness. And then “to keep it real I fuck him on the floor” collapses that whole mood with short percussive sounds—but it’s still a perfect iambic pentameter line, robust and a lovely obscene contrast with the chintz in the first line. Well done, tumblr user jjbang8
I hate that my aesthetic sense agrees with this but everything you just said was correct
I went back to dig up this post because I was thinking about poetry.
This is one of those non-poem things that are among my favorite poems.
As the OP stated, the use of alliterative consonants is aesthetically just great, especially the placement of the strongest use at the end: “fuck him on the floor.” The use of “chintz” is indeed great word choice.
Because I’m insane, decided to scan the poem:
Not only is the second sentence, indeed, perfect iambic pentameter, the entire poem is perfectly metered, though the first sentence has four iambs rather than five.
There are further things I love about this poem, though: I like the casual connotations of “keep it real” juxtaposed with “chintz.” It causes me to interpret the “chintz” more strongly as meaning something fake, a facade. There is also of course the coarseness of “fuck,” which is a contrast with “chintz” but a different kind of contrast, gutsy and carnal where “chintz” is flimsy and inanimate.
And then there is the storytelling: there is SO MUCH storytelling in just these two lines. To break it down: The speaker is having sex with a married man, in the house he shares with his wife, which is “filled with chintz”—something that here connotes fakeness, in contrast with “keep it real.”
The illicit encounter in the poem takes place within a house filled with facade, the flimsy construction of the wife’s marriage and domestic sphere, but the encounter itself is a taste of something “real.” That’s a story, and it’s just two lines.
This is EIGHTEEN SYLLABLES, y’all. The amount of meaning condensed into these eighteen syllables is stunning, and it is so elegantly done.
From a technical standpoint (and ive taken 300- and 400-level poetry classes so I can say this) this is damn near flawless as a poem.
(via clotpolesonly)
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why is learning a new software so scary. like what do u mean I have to start clicking on things what if it triggers a bomb
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soon may the wellerman come, your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb
(via stringcage)
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love languages this love languages that. what about hate languages. words of degredation. acts of disservice. stealing. physical touch (the violent kind). lackluster time.
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2023-08-19 30 notes
something they don’t tell you about enacting your romanticized ideal of moving across the country to a place where you know no one to start your life over is that you will spend a lot of time alone in your beautiful studio apartment that you can barely afford being sosososo tired because as it turns out when you start over the page doesn’t automatically fill up with words and in order to write them you have to be willing to reinvent yourself and in order to reinvent yourself you have to be willing to admit that you are currently no one and in order to admit that you are no one you have to admit that you were someone once and that that someone has died and in order to do that you have to be willing to feel the insurmountable waves of grief that you thought you could outrun by moving in the first place but in order to feel those waves you need a lifejacket so you don’t drown and sometimes a lifejacket can be many things, it can be music or books or walking your favorite path by the river, but most of the time a lifejacket is people. And in order to have people you have to introduce yourself to them and in order to introduce your self you have to have a self which means you have to reinvent yourself. Which you can’t do yet because you still haven’t grieved yourself. And everything takes so much more energy than you thought it would and sometimes the walk by the river hurts a little for reasons you can’t explain. And maybe you just want to be no one for a while because the thought of becoming someone new is its own kind of grief. To see a future laid out before you full of strangers you might grow to love, if you’re lucky, knowing that once, you were lucky before. Once, you saw a future for yourself next to people and places you now know you will never see again. Once, you dreamed of becoming this person that you are, and by doing so cursed this person that you are to inevitably let the old you down. You are doomed by your own narrative. You got what you wanted. You escpaed like you said you would. But now you must deal with the consequences. Freedom is not overrated but it is underfeared. Freedom haunts you. It is a wider, floatier, echo-ier sort of haunting, not the present, steady kind you’re used to. This is because freedom’s ghosts live in the future, which is always, despite what you tell yourself, bigger than the past. The ghosts don’t need you as much as you need them, and this is precisely what makes them so much worse. They stare at you mockingly from corners of unbreathed air and the soft city light coming in from your half-covered window and ask silent questions they know you cannot answer.
What will you do? Who will you be? What will you do? Who will you be? What will you do? Who will you be? What will you do? Who will you be? What will you do? Who will you be?
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2023-08-18 2,901 notes
know your worth! 🙏
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2023-08-17 7,564 notes
instrument with the most sex appeal, go!
violin
organ
bass guitar
drums
cello
saxophone
guqin
keyboard
something else (bonus points if it’s an ethnic instrument)
(via softandmelted)
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2023-08-16 132,899 notes
sjdsjkdlskdas-deactivated202012:
sjdsjkdlskdas-deactivated202012:
weird unprompted opinion but i think out of all the storytelling mediums…..theatre best portrays loneliness
hamlet: [walks onto a movie screen] now i am alone
me: i guess
hamlet: [is left on an empty stage] now i am alone
me: fuck yeah you are
#it’s about the sucking hungry silence of a hundred people holding their breath and very intently watching #the one single person on this bare piece of elevated floor that has been filled with so much #artistry and make-believe that it has become a true and real place #good theater sucks the air out of the room #an empty stage echoes (via @aethersea)
(via clotpolesonly)
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Consider, from the perspective of ten years ago, an ex-president saying he used to constantly fantasize about fucking men, and the reaction being “yeah, whatever, poser.”
(via freezingbeach)
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