切り裂きジャック!

The amount of hamlet your teenager can recite is in direct correlation to their deteriorating mental health. To be or not to be is a warning sign but if they're doing rogue and peasant slave too it's time seek help

do not go gentle into that good night

be a bit of a bitch about it

i’m so tired i need to be held or killed

Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guilderstern Are Dead

Submitted by iniquitousideals.

sold

this was a commission, a raven take on one of my possum mugs

the only reason I own a queen-sized bed is to push my books to the other side of it and sleep next to them

suddenly remembered this poem as i was making breakfast this morning & frantically googled “poem remembered to buy eggs?????????” & somehow managed to find it & it utterly knocked the wind out of me just as much as when i first read it

[ID

Yesterday, I spent 60 dollars on groceries, / took the bus home, / carried both bags with two good arms / back to my studio apartment / and cooked myself dinner. / You and I may have different definitions of a good day. / This week, I paid my rent and my credit card bill, / worked 60 hours between my two jobs, / only saw the sun on my cigarette breaks / and slept like a rock. / Flossed in the morning, / locked my door, / and remembered to buy eggs. / My mother is proud of me. / It is not the kind of pride she brags about at the golf course. / She doesn’t combat topics like, “My daughter got into Yale” / with, “Oh yeah, my daughter remembered to buy eggs” / But she is proud. / See, she remembers what came before this. / The weeks where I forgot how to use my muscles, / how I would stay as silent as a thick fog for weeks. / She thought each phone call from an unknown number was the notice of my suicide. / These were the bad days. / My life was a gift that I wanted to return. / My head was a house of leaking faucets and burnt-out lightbulbs. / Depression, is a good lover. / So attentive; has this innate way of making everything about you. / And it is easy to forget that your bedroom is not the world, / That the dark shadows your pain casts is not mood-lighting. / It’s easier to stay in this abusive relationship than fix the problems it has created. / Today, I slept in until 10, / cleaned every dish I own, / fought with the bank, / took care of paperwork. / You and I might have different definitions of adulthood. / I don’t work for salary, I didn’t graduate from college, / but I don’t speak for others anymore, / and I don’t regret anything I can’t genuinely apologize for. / And my mother is proud of me. / I burned down a house of depression, / I painted over murals of greyscale, / and it was hard for me to rewrite my life into one I wanted to live / But today, I want to live. / I didn’t salivate over sharp knives, / or envy the boy who tossed himself over the Brooklyn bridge. / I just cleaned my bedroom, / did the laundry, / called my brother. / Told him, “It was a good day.”

Kait Rokowski, “A Good Day”

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my wife can stab me a little bit i dont care

Obsessed with characters who portray themselves as worse than they are. Who are lying to everyone including themselves about it. People generally assume if someone's lying about themselves they're trying to look better but sometimes they're trying to look worse. They attribute agency to where they had none, add intend to accidents, try to convince everyone that this is something they did instead of something that happened to them.

one of my favorite poem titles 

your man doesn’t have the mental strength to caramelize onions 

your man thinks it takes 5-10 minutes to caramelize onions

Who’s fucking carmelizing onions?

Have you sociopaths forgotten that apples exist?

do you think caramelizing onions is putting caramel on onions

your man thinks caramelizing onions is putting caramel on onions

Who are you when you're not performing?

brought a poem to the gun fight

– Greek Lessons, Han Kang, trans. Deborah Smith and Emily Yae Won

musings on coffee (pt 1)

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