#a-bad-poem

[reallybadblackoutpoems]

meditations on first philosophy (1641) - rene descartes

"who give a shit"

[cheruib]

every time i feel like i haven’t done enough things to be proud of myself during the day there’s the voice of louise glück that emerges softly in my ears and says if you missed a day there’s always the next and if you missed a year it didn’t matter the hills weren’t going anywhere the thyme and rosemary kept coming back.. and i feel like life is beautiful and kind to me again

[lucidloving]

Ruth Madievsky, All-Night Pharmacy // Suzanne Scanlon, Promising Young Women // Robin Roe, A List of Cages // Hayao Miyazaki, Kiki's Delivery Service // Susan Sontag, As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks, 1964-1980 // D. H. Lawrence, The Plumbed Serpent // Jennifer S. Cheng, "So We Must Meet Apart" // Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart // Alice Oseman, Radio Silence // Franz Kafka, Letters to Felice

[nikoisme]

This pain will linger with me still, I pray this too shall pass.

[myfakeplasticlove13]

I don’t know man :/ i think I’m just tired of being me

[perfectquote]

Sometimes it feels better not to talk. At all. About anything. To anyone.

Breaking Bad

[hollis-art]

Ode to Spot, by Data Soong

[softinvasions]

DIRECTOR'S NOTE • Nov. 2023

You can't go home. This play has a particular care for and interest in its victims. The resident

inciting event is endless. tragedy is much more concerned with footnotes than it is with gods.

well acquainted with what happens afterward, storytellers claim they can't diverge from what's

written: resist. rage against what must be. tell a story about war without talking

about love. survive its aftermath. fail to find resolution. make this suffering

a home. There's no breaking this chain— fate, as always, gets its way.

Poetry assembled from the program of an Oresteia production. Nov. 2023.

[resqectable]

Sometimes it feels better not to talk. At all. About anything. To anyone.

Breaking Bad

[bardicbird]

a little siffrin comic about touch, violence, and oranges

[stay-close]

Sometimes it feels better not to talk. At all. About anything. To anyone.

Breaking Bad

[fixing-bad-posts]

found poetry

[lovely-abeille]

on being the daughter of the family

if my body could speak, blythe baird // i put the coffin out to sea, lisa marie basile // @/belovedbi // ? // been a son, nirvana // elektra, sophokles; translated by anne carson // ? // churching, kristin chang

[firstfullmoon]

still sad that the ada limón poem sent by nasa wasn’t dead stars. like imagine the poem sent to space being one that says “look, we are not unspectacular things. we’ve come this far, survived this much. what would happen if we decided to survive more? to love harder?” wouldn’t that have been the most human thing in the world?

[always-coffee]

After The Tower Falls

Here is the secret: eventually, the ache stops, the devastation quickens and then slows, the anger arrives righteous and in want of a reckoning,

and then, it turns back to shadow, suddenly, as if had not been burning a moment before, and in that empty space, there is quiet, and in that quiet, there is relief, like cool water from a soft stream, your heart

is no longer howling, and the pieces of the past all around you

no longer feel like destruction, but a fresh start, flowers growing out of the cracks, a bright song of possibility,

and you know you survived it, the worst thing, the impossible thing, the heartbreak

didn’t break you after all— breathe.

[midnightcthulhu]

i put this pjackk poem into elevenai and something went very wrong. i've never heard it freak out like this, it sounds like the narrator is being forced to read @pjackk posts while undergoing an icepick lobotomy, which is also what i think hell will be like.