atinyghostie

[atinyghostie]

[atinyghostie]

new post on summer madness, stickiness and careless!! https://open.substack.com/pub/tinyghostie/p/summer-makes-me-sweat-off-all-my?r=1i558o&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web

[atinyghostie]

new very late substack post on in's and out's for the new year!!

[atinyghostie]

new substack post!!

[atinyghostie]

on dying gently.

tom jenks // perhaps the world ends here by joy harjo //death comes to me again, a girl by dorianne laux // @claypigeonpottery // c s lewis // chasing cars by snow patrol

[atinyghostie]

hello. you left a neon pink post-it with pgs 194-359 due 9/12 in the book, by the way. it is now May 23rd and the library's printer is running out of ink. it jammed and tore my passport application. one of the librarians dutifully blacked out all my information (front and back!) before proceeding to use every unmarred inch as scrap paper.

i think maybe our (plural, inclusive) lives are connected. all of them. i have been thinking a lot about borrowing. about how people move through the world in waves, filling in the same spaces. i have probably stood on the same subway platform as you. we held the same book. all of us stand in the same line at the grocery, at the gas station. how many feet have stood washing dishes in my kitchen?

i hope you are doing well. the pen you used was a nice red, maybe a glitter pen? you have loopy, curling handwriting. i sometimes wonder if it is true that you can tell a personality by the shape of our letters. i'm borrowing my brother's car. he's got scrangly engineer handwriting (you know the one). it's a yellow-orange ford mustang boss. when i got out of the building, some kids were posing with it for a selfie. i felt a little bird grow in me and had to pause and pretend to be busy with my phone to give them more time for their laughing.

i have a habit of asking people what's the last good book you read? the librarian's handwriting on the back of my smeared-and-chewed passport application says the glass house in small undercase. i usually go for fantasy/sci fi, but she was glowing when she suggested it. i found your post-it on page 26, so i really hope you didn't have to read up to 359 in that particular book. i hope you're like me and just have a weird "random piece of trash" "bookmark" that somehow makes it through like, 58 books.

i wish the concept of soul mates was bigger. i wish it was about how my soul and your soul are reading the same work. how i actually put down that book at the same time you did - page 26 was like, all exposition. i wish we were soul mates with every person on the same train. how magical to exist and borrow the same space together. i like the idea that somewhere, someone is using the shirts i donated. i like the idea that every time i see a nice view and say oh gosh look at the view, you (plural, inclusive) said that too.

the kids hollered when i beeped the car. oh dude you set off the alarm, oh shit is she - dude that's her car!! one was extremely polite. "i like your car, Miss. i'm sorry we touched it." i said i wasn't busy, finish up the pictures. i folded your post-it into a paper crane while i waited. i thought about how my brother's a kind person but his handwriting looks angry. i thought about how for an entire year i drove someone to work every day - and i didn't even think to ask for gas money. my handwriting is straight capital letters.

i thought about how i can make a paper crane because i was taught by someone who was taught by someone else.

the kids asked me to rev the engine and you know i did. the way they reacted? you would have thought i brought the sun from the sky and poured it into a waterglass. i went home smiling about it. i later gave your post it-turned-bird to a tiny child on the bus. she put it in her mouth immediately.

how easy, standing in your shadow, casting my own. how our hands pass over each other in the same minor folds. i wonder how many of the same books you and i have read. i wonder how many people have the same favorite six songs or have been in the same restaurant or have attended the same movie premier. the other day i mentioned the Book Mill from a small town in western massachusetts - a lot of people knew of it. i wonder if i've ever passed you - and didn't even notice it.

i hope whatever i leave behind makes you happy. i hope my hands only leave gentle prints. i hope you and i get the same feeling when the sun comes out. soulmates across all of it.

[atinyghostie]

today i love the red metal crane in her long neck arching her body over the boston skyline, which means i am okay for a moment. when i am unwell, everything is a little ugly. i always tell myself look for the beauty but when it is bad, i will look at birds and sunsets and little ducklings and feel absolutely nothing.

when my brother got his puppy, i was in a deep depression. what kind of monster isn't affected by a puppy. i was gentle and kind to her - i just didn't have an emotional reaction. she's five now and i feel like i spend all of our interactions apologizing to her - i don't know why. i just didn't feel anything. how embarrassing. i feel like if i admit that, i'll seem cruel and jaded. it comes in waves. like, two months ago when i went out into the world - it was like that. life behind a pane of stormglass. a firework could go off over your head - nothing. like dead skin, no reaction. not to ice cream or rainbows or baby chickens. life foggy and uninteresting.

i love goslings again. i love their little webbed feet splayed over grass. i love good food and live music and long walks. i like puppies. i feel like some kind of my soul has been starved - i keep staring at everything with wide eyes, trying to burrow the sensation into my stomach. it's real. beauty is real. when it's bad again, remember this. i stop and smell the flowers, feeling cliche in the moment. i like the white-to-red ombre of my neighbor's roses. i like colorcoding and yoga and cold drinks. i try to pass my hands over every moment, feeling like i'm squeezing joy out of every instant. remember this. for the love of god, it's real - just remember this.

[atinyghostie]

i am sorry, mama. i know you did your best but i turned out wrong. i only ever sharpen my teeth on my own legs. i can't hunt and every song in my chest sounds more like a siren call. i tremble at every loud noise. i fear i am unlovable. you used to tell me to bark back and bite hard. i let every hand muzzle me and consider it gentle. touchstarved. i'm sorry. you wanted to raise a wolf but i am just a bad dog.

[atinyghostie]

god fell out of heaven yesterday and we all started making fun of him bc the corpse is only like 5'3''

[atinyghostie]

Three Women, Setting: A Maternity Ward and round about

Sylvia Plath

[atinyghostie]

- on mothers

lady bird/ @death-born-aphrodite/ everything, everywhere, all at once/ rupi kaur/ unknown/ maia baia/ your best american girl- mitski/ lady bird/ unknown/ @inkskinned

[atinyghostie]

Richard Siken, "Snow and Dirty Rain" // @headspace-hotel // @chenchenwrites on Twitter // Richard Siken, "Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out" // John Wesley // @jb-blunk // Anaïs Nin, The Unexpurgated Diary; 1939-1947 // @blue-july // Mandeq Ahmed, "Grow With Care" // When I Was Done Dying— Dan Deacon

[atinyghostie]

today i was driving to this park where i walk goblin sometimes. nick called me from california. he stopped at starbucks the same time i did, except i live in massachusetts, so we are technically ordering 3 hours apart from each other. we both order the same drink, just to say we split it. it is a tuesday, and i almost cried.

the crossing guard is in all green. neon green, like a sour lime. head to toe. neon green shoes and neon green leggings and a big neon green shirt. neon green glasses and a hat. i guess the crossing vest is more yellow than green, but i'm colorblind, so be nice.

the car in front of me pulls to a stop. a woman jumps out from behind the wheel. for a second, i am worried about the man and if he is safe. sometimes people are mean. (this is an understatement. i live in boston. masshole drivers are actually all running from a felony conviction. i know this because i am one.)

but the woman is in a beautiful pink outfit, like the inside of a seashell. a bathtub pink. her hair is pink too. pink nails and pink pants and a pink blouse and pink jacket. she is laughing, and does a little spin for him. he laughs and spins too, his hands over his head in a round imitation of a ballerina. (i am a ballerina. it does not offend me. i like that his arms become a little heart frame overhead. how cute!)

it is a quick moment, and the woman is back in her car, and i see the driver on the other side of the road laughing, and then i am moving again. i wave at the crossing guard, who is still smiling. he waves back. i tell nick i love people.

today i am wearing a monochrome outfit. just for fun. sometimes you need to do stuff like that, you know? to remind yourself the world is so big. someone out there already loves you. i know this because i am one.

[atinyghostie]

i have been meaning to reach out to you but the window was open and everything seemed so lovely outside so i forgot..

[atinyghostie]

[atinyghostie]

having so much love in your heart is beautiful and amazing right up until you’re alone in your bedroom clutching at your chest and whimpering like a wounded dog

[atinyghostie]

LETTER TO MY CHILDHOOD ME

franz wright // richey edwards // unknown // katie maria // little women (2019) // james baldwin // unknown // siickangel (?)