junkieicarus

[junkieicarus]

the fun part about going out to clubs and raves w friends when ur job is to dance at a club is trying to decide if ur fit is too whoreish and scrambling to get other opinions before ur friend arrives to pick u up

[junkieicarus]

Savannah Brown, from Closer Baby Closer; “Seduction theory”

[Text ID: “so let it be known when I want something I want more of it than usually exists.”]

[junkieicarus]

2/4/24 hometown blues

this city has started to feel so small i know my way around i run into people i know more than i'd like a place where i once wanted to be known has begun to feel claustrophobic i want to go back to a time when the world felt new but there isn’t even a way to emulate that feeling and when the rich people are buying their tickets to mars i won’t be able to join them and they will only turn mars into the same old planet i’ve grown tired of oblivion is the only remotely appealing option at this point but even that i’ve experienced already only 22, already i’ve lived too much life died too many deaths i don’t feel anything anymore just melancholy boredom

[junkieicarus]

[credit]

[junkieicarus]

Chen Chen, from "Poplar Street"

[junkieicarus]

art + lemony snicket

x x x x x

[junkieicarus]

2/7/24

the trick

man who thinks he is special

because i let him treat me as poorly as he wants

he just fails to realize

that anyone who gives me drugs or money

can treat me however they please

i don’t care

have this body

it was never mine to begin with

the only ones i know how to love

are the ones who have nothing to offer me

that’s the only time mistreatment hurts

[junkieicarus]

Nooshin Ghanbari, from "transient"

[junkieicarus]

☽ 𝔊𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔠 𝔞𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔠 (x) ☾

[junkieicarus]

2/7/24 the sex worker

physical beauty inextricably linked to my ability to pay rent i am practically nocturnal my job is to party all night with my clothes off so i sleep til 4 pm all bundled up even when it’s boiling in my apartment i tell my customers that i love my job “i get to dance and meet people and have fun” i say, smiling with my teeth if i was being honest i'd say that i love my job because i hate authority and love to drink i am a physical embodiment of vapid hedonism all strippers are and yet most of us contain more multitudes than every male philosopher, academic, or poet throughout history to be a stripper is to be intensely sad  all the while smiling in the faces of men who think that, if they play their cards right, they can take us home at the end of the night i take solace in the knowledge that i am exploiting those who seek to exploit me and comfort in the knowledge that i get to go home at the end of my shift by myself  where i don’t owe anything to anyone except my landlord but that’s all covered, no worries there

[junkieicarus]

[junkieicarus]

2/6/24

inhaling the essence of the cosmos the ephemeral substance that permeates my existence i embrace the ether the timeless and all-encompassing void smoking misery off tin foil exhaling all care and worry it allows me to drift into the ether pure and free from attachment let it carry me into the unknown a journey with no real end when i die it will remain the same

[junkieicarus]

Alejandra Pizarnik, tr. by Yvette Siegert, from The Most Foreign Country; “Sky”

[Text ID: “I think of your face and of you and of your hands and / of the scratch of your pen and of you”]

[junkieicarus]

"Poems are not written...", Andrey Voznesensky (translated by metamorphesque)

[junkieicarus]

2/6/24

teeth grind loudly

amidst unconsciousness

jaw tensed perpetually

men who share my bed

show concern and amusement

bewildered at how i,

just a girl,

can inhabit such an agitated form

the nightly gnashing recently cracked a molar

straight down the side

so i got the tooth replaced today

the new one feels out of place in my mouth

it doesn’t quite fit the same

a puzzle piece that is almost right, but not exactly

i feel acutely aware of its existence

an awareness not usually reserved for teeth

mind i don’t even pay to the bruxism

no need to pay it any mind, it’s just another permanent fixture of my existence

it just happened to crack my tooth in half

i’ll get used to the fake one eventually

[junkieicarus]

memories of repose and decomposition haunt my dreams

sweet necrosis interrupted by painful gasping

“i just need some water, i’ll be fine”

i scream and cry and kick

leave me behind in the extended stay motel

i am not deserving of the safety that lies within pearly white walls

shivering under fluorescent lights

i know i don’t belong

seedy club lights illuminating sweaty faces

a dim flickering yellow lamp

dashboard glows against the night sky

white powder to wake up, sweet brownish powder at lights out

don’t narcan me, you’ll blow my high

[junkieicarus]

tenderness is in the hands ― Carolyn Forché, L’Avventura (1960), Ocean Vuong, The White Ribbon (2009), Hart Crane, Gelatin Silver, Love (2009), Ingeborg Bachmann, Les amants du Pont-Neuf (1991), Sylvia Plath, Psycho (1960), Rod McKuen (stills by @forhandsthatsuffer)