#my life is my poetry

[darkacademiaposts]

btw the only way i have realised to be strong ever was by facing everything i feel. by looking at myself in the eyes and telling myself that i accept what i feel. i have tried the avoidant persona. it fades and washes away because i am meant to feel and i am meant to express it through my words, weaving poetry through my pain.

[softhe4rted]

first read on @exitmusicfrafilm’s post about 2023

[flintpunks-mind]

A co-worker of mine was standing outside with me during a break from customers to share a cigarette with me, and told me about how he had lost his brother that he was close with some years ago. He told me about how they used to be in a band together with some friends, and how ever since he'd died, he hadn't played any music because he'd been too scared and anxious. I told him about how I'd lost my brother to suicide some years ago.

I went home and pulled out an old tiny wooden box my brother had given me before he'd died. I'd been using it to store guitar picks I'd collected over the years, including one guitar pick that used to be his. I haven't played the guitar since he'd died, my hands are too small to play some of the chords, so I play bass and piano instead.

I went to work the next day and gifted my brothers old guitar pick to my co-worker. I told him that it'd been sitting in a box for ten years unused, and would probably sit there for longer if I kept it there. Told him that I thought he deserved to have it, because I bet he could put it to better use than I ever would. Told him I didn't feel like it was coincidence that me and him would cross paths with each other in our lives, and that it seemed suiting that we had these similar experiences but split in two halves. That somehow, I felt like he was meant to have the guitar pick. I told him that I knew he'd not played guitar since his brother died, but that if he ever decided to play again one of these days, maybe he'd be able to honor both of our brothers by using that guitar pick.

He almost cried. He thanked me. Then he went home that night and for the first time in years he played the guitar.

I don't know what the meaning of life is or what my purpose is, but I do believe that love and human connection is one of the most important things in life. It's finding ways to tell strangers you love them and share experiences with others. I think it's all just about love.

[missinyouiskillingme]

[whendidmythoughtsgocrazy]

If you don’t accept me at my worst I make sure you won’t ever see the best of me.

k.b. // u never deserved my best in the first place

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[grendel-menz]

my farm girl blues

[orpheuslament]

I want to build a house with you more often than I want to die, Dante Émile

[themachomoron]

When Mary Shelly wrote "I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other" god I really felt that

[fairydrowning]

Posting this here for everyone!!

[nerdyenby]

Sorry, your boyfriend got reincarnated. Yeah, he doesn’t remember that time you murdered him with your bare hands. He doesn’t know how much you love him. He doesn’t know that you’ve killed for him. He doesn’t know that you’ve killed him. He doesn’t know it’ll happen again. As he takes your hand and your heart, and you laugh from atop an animal the two of you ride together, he doesn’t know you’ve been here before. He doesn’t know it’ll happen again.

[softhe4rted]

to begin with, the sweet grass by mary oliver, from “devotions”

[missinyouiskillingme]

[whendidmythoughtsgocrazy]

You won't ever find the answer to the actions of horrible people who only want to hurt others, and do you know why? Because you're not them.

k.b. // always remember

[europasage]

on being alive.

@delepiphany on pinterest // lucy dacus, please stay // @arthoesunshine // @leaf.guy_ on tiktok // bo burnham, that funny feeling // @peepuddle

[theprofoundcosmos]

it's fine: you can walk away from what you used to love.

will add credits!!! i swear!

. / . / . / doki doki literature club, Sayori's unsual poem 'get out of my head' / . / . / @/bpd-anz on tumblr / @/inanotheruniverse on tumblr / @/6aint on tumblr / .