writebadchoices - Tumblr blog

[writebadchoices]

informational articles that sound like poetry… source for the first one (sciencing.com)

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microdosing on vulnerability by saying 'yeah..........' in the tags of poems i rb that i identify with

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“oh god……” “I am here.”

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Can’t believe Steve Rogers literally had to pause mid-death-battle in order to let Thor know how fuckable he looked w/ his new hair

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brian d'arcy, build a wall / caitlyn siehl, start here / black sails, XVIII / richard siken, litany in which certain things are crossed out / caitlyn siehl, start here / our flag means death, the art of fuckery / david jones, could you ever live without

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because dreaming costs money, my dear (mitski) // silas denver melvin // real estate (adam melchor) // alice isn’t dead // dante émile // ada limón // eleni prineas // kristin chang // joan tierney // sappho // all images from trialogo by gonzalo orquin

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richard siken - anyway // the worm king’s lullaby

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Aldo Amparán, Glossary for What You Left Unsaid

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Silas Denver Melvin, Pissing Contest (or an Interrogation on Behalf of a Lover Who is No Longer Mine)

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Don’t think I have any intention of caressing your cheek and saying I was wrong. I will not weep and wonder what might have been. I’m sure you understand. Still, I’m proud of you in a way. You have shown great conviction. Strength. Courage. All noble qualities. I should have killed you long ago.

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- Richard Siken

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In highschool I wrote a story about a middle-generation of stellar travelers. Their parents were born on earth and left as children, and the middle generation will not live long enough to see their destination. They live their entire lives on the ship and I wrote about them trying to find their place in everything. They will never know blue skies and warm beaches and open fields with warm breezes. They’ll never know birdsong or crickets or frogs. They’ll never hear the rain on the roof of a dreary day. I never could find the right way to end the story. I wanted it to be a happy ending, but I didn’t know how to do it.

I realize now that it was a book about me dealing with depression before I even knew it. Looking back at how blatant the projecting was, it’s obvious now. It wasn’t then.

In the story, the middle-generation people are lost. They’re apathetic. They’re just a placeholder. The only job they have is to keep the ship running, have kids, and die. As the middle generation of people began becoming adults, suicide rates were skyrocketing. Crime and drug rates were jumping. This generation was completely apathetic because they felt that they had no use.

In the story, a small group of people in the middle-generation create the Weather Project. They turn the ship into a terrarium. They make magnificent gardens and take the DNA of animals they took with them and recreate them and they make this cold, metal spaceship that they have to live their entire lives on into a home. They take what little they have and they break it and rearrange it into something beautiful. They take this radical idea and turn the ship into a wonderful jungle of trees and birds and sunshine.

And I realize now how much it reflects my state of mind as I transitioned from a child into an adult while dealing with depression. You always hear “it gets better” and “when you’re older things will be easier” and I was so sick of waiting for it to get better. I was in the middle-generation stage. And I was sick of it. I was so sick of waiting.

When I was in highschool I didn’t know how to end the story. I didn’t know how to have a happy ending. I didn’t have the life experience then to finish the story in a meaningful way. I didn’t know how to make it better for these middle-generation characters.

But now that I’m older, I’m learning. That if you sit and wait for things to get better, it never will. You have to take your life and break it apart and rearrange it into something beautiful. You have to make the cold metal ship into the garden that you deserve. You have to make your own meaning. You have to plant your own garden.

You have to teach yourself that being happy is not a radical idea.

[writebadchoices]

poetry is stored in the tags

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tumblr post by tordenvejr // how do we forgive our fathers? by dick lourie // in which i prefer to blast frank while the door is closed by hazem fahmy // cut by catherine lacey​

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“Man City” — Ted Lasso (2.08)

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you are sunlight through a window, which i stand in, warmed. (the miniaturist, jessie burton)

unlove’s the heavenless hell and homeless home, e. e. cummings / take me to church, hozier / down to agincourt, seperis / @seraphpng / @nephrosoupp / i’ll give you the sun, jandy nelson / scheherazade, richard siken / clifford prince king / the sower, vincent van gogh / the song of achilles, madeline miller / the diary of anaïs nin (volume iv), anaïs nin / the seven husbands of evelyn hugo, taylor jenkins reid