pressedchamomile

[pressedchamomile]

how to talk louder - a guide

1. put some headphones on

2. put some music on that’s actually hella loud

3. talk loud enough until you can hear yourself

[pressedchamomile]

Britain in Pictures series 

The books were designed to boost morale but perhaps also record the British way of life in case the Germans completed their European campaign by successfully crossing the English Channel. The books were slim volumes with distinctive elegant covers, but it was the star-studded array of authors that made the series really special.

George Orwell wrote about the British people, Cecil Beaton wrote about English photography, the great poet and printer Francis Meynell wrote about English books, John Betjeman (who penned the immortal line” Come, friendly bombs, and fall on Slough” in 1937) wrote about cities and towns, Graham Greene wrote about dramatists, the doyen of sports journalists Neville Cardus wrote about cricket and Edith Sitwell wrote about women. Some of the authors have faded in obscurity but they were all experts in their field during those dark days of World War II.

A wide variety of subjects were covered from battlefields to boxing, clocks to mountaineering, butterflies to farm animals, and from waterways and canals to maps and map-makers. In all, there were were 132 titles. The books also covered the Commonwealth – John Buchan’s wife, Lady Tweedsmuir wrote about Canada while Ngaio Marsh and R M Burdon wrote about New Zealand.

[pressedchamomile]

[pressedchamomile]

Unfinished Work Based on A Writing Prompt

print(”Hello Tumblr World!”)

I decided to share some of my old work based on https://thewrittenpost.tumblr.com/WIP’s blog, the writing prompt is from their blog :) So I present my work below!!

“There are more painful ways to die”, he said, a mock expression of thoughtfulness, but she could see the smirk slowly inching itself up. 

“I hate you”, she spat, the words feeling bitter in her mouth. His eyes suddenly turned towards her, not believing that she, a “sweet” lady for god’s sake, would say such a thing. No one had ever spoken to him that way, certainly none of the respectable women in society. But then, of course, Acheflow wasn’t even close to the other women in society. She was the only one who could see him, amongst her unladylike etiquette and the fact that she refused to sit still...or wear heels. Death staggered back, stung by her word as though he had been slapped. She took this to her advantage and surveyed the flames around her, different from her home in in the lush greens and browns where The Forbidden lived. The dark room suddenly illuminated with cloaks, a throne sat in front of her, a couple feet off the ground. He must have been very vain, to place the throne above everyone else, a reminder of their social construct. Either that or he was very aware, to look powerful is to be powerful. She stood in the center now, blocking out the sound of the cries and screams of the crowd, begging Death for blood. She used to sit in the last row, and now she caught a glimpse of her family, her mother clinging to her younger sister, her entire family deemed a social pariah. Ivy wanted a better view of the entire festival since day one. I got it now haven’t I she said to herself remorsefully. And it was his fault.

[pressedchamomile]

Follow me on Goodreads!

[pressedchamomile]

Rupi Kaur’s poem...one of my favorites to be certain. 

School especially has convinced us that we are not beautiful, especially now, when I am currently in middle school, for being too short or too skinny or too fat or “omg she’s gonna wear that??” when her lascivious knees are showing. The issue is not her clothing, its that she should feel comfortable in her own body. She should feel respected. She should feel like she can go outside after 7 PM without having to carry pepper spray. She should feel beautiful and safe.

Why are we judging whether she chooses to wear a tuxedo or a skirt or a bikini? I should be entitled to telling anyone to stfu if they make a remark about how I don’t like to cook (someone told me that when I was 8). 

[pressedchamomile]

Unfinished Work

Hello! This is based on something I started in October (October 27, 2021 to be more exact), although knowing myself, procrastinating seems to be something I do quite often, whether unconsciously or consciously. The prompt was “There are more painful ways to die” and I thought, “Hey, might as well do something on the darker side”, and I “decided” to leave it blank, to let myself imagine different endings. I believe this would be the ending of the story, then we’d work backward. 

I haven’t been able to post recently because of tests and whatnot (school and stuff), so I present my work below!

“There are more painful ways to die”, he said, a mock expression of thoughtfulness, but she could see the smirk slowly inching itself up. 

“I hate you”, she spat, the words feeling bitter in her mouth. His eyes suddenly turned towards her, not believing that she, a “sweet” lady for god’s sake, would say such a thing. No one had ever spoken to him that way, and he staggered back, stung by her word as though he had been slapped. 

[pressedchamomile]

Let them cry😇

[pressedchamomile]

Just Another Face

we say to girls

to make their voices smaller

be successful but not too successful

be smart but not too smart

have ambition  but not too much

look to marriage as the goal

the purpose

the meaning of your life

when we don't teach men the same

girls are competitors

which is good

but not for careers but for the attention of a man

which is so important right?

when a girl says no

she means yes

when she hates him

she comes to love him

doesn’t she?

[pressedchamomile]

We Don’t Know

Another failed attempt (in my opinion) at poetry

we don’t know when

people will stop thinking of politics

as the answer to the ocean’s cries

as the calling back to the thunder

as her protests are drowned

by us

 “it’s complicated”

people reclining in leather-covered armchairs

skip through the television

unaware, ignorant

that the glaciers are melting

faster than the ice in the drink

 in their hand

  we don’t know when we will be fixed

[pressedchamomile]

Wish

Hello everyone out there on the internet!! It has been a hectic week, I’m not gonna lie, but I was thinking about what I want - a world where women have equal rights, abortion is accessible, LGBTQ+ have a voice, and so much more. I am angry, and tired. Angry that people will not listen, and that people my age say blatantly sexist thing without realizing it, and tired for all the brave, badass women who have been screaming while the world wears noise canceling headphones. Well, I present my poem: 

close your eyes and make a wish

into a word where

a princess has no need for a prince

a girl is more than just a body

they are not victims of old conventions

“pretty” is not a woman’s name

the universe theirs to conquer

[pressedchamomile]

True! Why is family always a social unit by blood, instead of those we relate to, and love most?

Alright but like why is there such a construct of family being related by blood, true family is those who you trust.

[pressedchamomile]

Dress Code

boys will be boys

girls will accommodate

no shirts without sleeves

no shorts too high

no ripped jeans lower than your fingertips

boys can wear anything as long as it isn’t obscene

but why?

it distracts the boys

it is the female’s responsibility to act properly

and dress in the 18th century

excuses for every violation

that a man commits

she was wearing too much makeup

she was drunk

she should’ve worn more clothing

she should’ve stayed inside at 7

she should’ve obeyed

[pressedchamomile]

I almost wish I hadn’t any conscience, it’s so inconvenient.

Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott

This is me at the moment. Or perhaps what I mean to say is this is me all the time.

[pressedchamomile]

How Hollywood Demonizes Ultra Femininity

A deconstructing of Hollywood expectations:

Girls have grown up with TV shows and movies whose heroines must defeat obstacles to finally be happy. Strangely, one of these “obstacles” are “mean girls”, described as ultra feminine, fashion-loving women with great confidence and talent? And although beauty standards have pivoted, from blondes to brunettes to redheads beauty has always been ideal, an unsaid guideline for all young women. 

Barbie, a doll with unrealistic body standards, white skin, with blond hair, blue eyes, and a Malibu mansion? She is known for all things girly - the color pink, her extraordinary fashion sense, and her intelligence which lead her to have thousands of careers, Barbie has been an iconic role model in the lives of girls around the world. But why do we need proof that she can be pretty and smart?

With a strong drive, confidence, and leadership, the question is why have we normalized being pretty as not being smart? We have always subconsciously told ourselves whenever we see a blonde to characterize her as a “dumb blond”, and another thing I’ve also noticed was that “mean girls” are the ones who care about their looks, with makeup, short skirts, and a large social circle. The people being picked on are characterized as more smart, kind, hang out with the shy kids, and we’ve normalized that this is perfectly fine! But why?

[pressedchamomile]

This.

[pressedchamomile]

Where I See Myself

Hello internet! I felt like I truly needed to evaluate where I see myself instead of the way others see me, which, a little voice in my head always tells me, always matters more. I believe I do know this, although don’t take it into account, which is strange. Oh well, I present my poem, thank you!

does it matter

the way i see myself?

my friends see me as the feminist

who is “too” outspoken

my teachers see me as the student

who talks too much

my enemies see me as a body

barely missing bullet holes and insults

my mother sees me as 

something to compare

her friends’ daughters to

my father sees me as a copy

of himself, fulfilling his dreams

but i 

see myself as a:

young woman who

dreams to

be accepted