unfucked reblogged
LOVE ME
Boyish - Japanese Breakfast / Lovefool - The Cardigains / Love Me More - Mitski
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what is adolescence if not leaving and being left?
1. iain s. thomas | 2. alison zai @alisonzai | 3. @chloeinletters | 4. mikko harvey | 5. fleetwood mac | 6. the breakfast club (1985), john hughes | 7. lorde | 8. miranda july | 9. richard siken | 10. @mavra-matia | 11. homer | 12. amy hempel | 13. mitski | 14. katrin koenning | 15. freya ridings |
I loved him (I think). Shameless. Laid before him, stupid lamb in a slaughterhouse.
— Karese Burrows, from “Persephone Writes a Poem,” This Is How We Lost Each Other
I love James Baldwin simply because he validates my existence. He already (and more eloquently) thought, said and wrote everything I want to—but with those things having already been thought, written and said, it’s up to those who’ve come after him to work to affect change.
“A black gay person who is a sexual conundrum to society is already, long before the question of sexuality comes into it, menaced and marked because he’s black or she’s black. The sexual question comes after the question of color; it’s simply one more aspect of the danger in which all black people live. I think white gay people feel cheated because they were born, in principle, into a society in which they were supposed to be safe. The anomaly of their sexuality puts them in danger, unexpectedly. Their reaction seems to me in direct proportion to the sense of feeling cheated of the advantages which acrue to white people in a white society. There’s an element, it has always seemed to me, of bewilderment and complaint. Now that may sound very harsh, but the gay world as such is no more prepared to accept black people than anywhere else in society.”
—James Baldwin
unfucked reblogged
reading a textbook for class and i’m going insane. why is this just poetry. what. this is a STEM class what’s going on.
HELLO????? HELLO?????
The winds, the sea, and the moving tides are what they are. If there is wonder and beauty and majesty in them, science will discover these qualities. If they are not there, science cannot create them. If there is poetry in my book about the sea, it is not because I deliberately put it there, but because no one could write truthfully about the sea and leave out the poetry. - Rachel Carson (1952)
no one can write truthfully about evolution and leave out the poetry, etc.
This is very old now. But may I introduce you to the Symphony of Science playlist:
It started with mostly Carl Sagan because he was very good at dropping those little science bites that sounded incredibly poetic.
heavenx-deactivated20220816
Hayley Williams- Watch Me While I Bloom // Ocean Vuong- Thanksgiving 2006 // Richard Siken- Saying Your Names //Phoebe Brigers- Funeral // Marya Hornbacher- Madness: A Bipolar Life // Halsey- I Would Leave Me If I Could // Clarice Lispector ― A Breath of Life
unfucked reblogged
feminist_collages_nyc: Rest in Power Refaat Alareer
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memory, palimpsest, nostalgia
“I need someone to remember me”
Mitski
[“There is an awful, pervasive myth out there that people who abuse others do so simply because they are bad people—because they are sadistic, or because they enjoy other people’s pain. This is, I think, part of the reason why so many people who have been abusive in the past or present resist the use of the terms “abuse” or “abuser” to describe their behavior. In fact, very, very, very few people who abuse are motivated to do so by sadism.
In my experience as a therapist and community support worker, when people are abusive, it’s usually because they have a reason based in desperation or suffering. Some reasons for abusive behavior I have heard include: “I am isolated and alone, and the only person who keeps me alive is my partner. This is why I can’t let my partner leave me.” “My partner hurts me all the time. I was just hurting them back.” “I am sick, and if I don’t force people to take care of me, then I will be left to die.” “I am suffering, and the only way to relieve the pain is to hurt myself or others.” “I didn’t know that what I was doing was abuse. People always did the same to me. I was just following the script.” “No one will love me unless I make them.”
All of these are powerful, real reasons for abuse—but they are never excuses. There is no reason good enough to excuse abusive behavior. Reasons help us understand abuse, but they do not excuse it. Accepting this is essential to transforming culpability into accountability and turning justice into healing.”]
Kai Cheng Thom, What to Do When You’ve Been Abusive Annotated Edition, from Beyond Survival: Strategies and Stories From The Transformative Justice Movement
unfucked reblogged
- on mothers
lady bird/ @death-born-aphrodite/ everything, everywhere, all at once/ rupi kaur/ unknown/ maia baia/ your best american girl- mitski/ lady bird/ unknown/ @inkskinned
Mom, I'm tired
Can I sleep in your house tonight?
Mom, is it alright
If I stay for a year or two?
Mom, I'll be quiet
It would be just to sleep at night
And I'll leave once I figure out
How to pay for my own life too
Mom, would you wash my back?
This once, and then we can forget
And I'll leave what I'm chasing
For the other girls to pursue
Mom, am I still young?
Can I dream for a few months more?
Class of 2013 - Mitski
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Famous Last Words (An Ode to Eaters), Ethel Cain / Oil paintings by Jen Mazza
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i can't remember what your voice sounds like and maybe that's a good thing.
eternal sunshine of the spotless mind dir. michel gondry // why didn't you stop me?, mitski // 27, fall out boy // fixed it ii, henrietta harris // stick season, noah kahan // i'm low on gas and you need a jacket, pierce the veil // the lobster dir. yorgos lanthimos // on earth we're briefly gorgeous, ocean vuong
holyisthenameofmyruthlessaxe
after a suicide attempt in 2016
deformititties
“When Daddy comes in, he carries you to bed. Is there anything you feel like you could eat, Pokey? Anything at all? All you can imagine putting in your mouth is a cold plum, one with really tight skin on the outside but gum-shocking sweetness inside. And he and your mother discuss where he might find some this late in the season. Mother says hell I don’t know. Further north, I’d guess. The next morning, you wake up in your bed and sit up. Mother says, Pete, I think she’s up. He hollers in, You ready for breakfast, Pokey. Then he comes in grinning, still in his work clothes from the night before. He’s holding a farm bushel. The plums he empties onto the bed river toward you through folds in the quilt. If you stacked them up, they’d fill the deepest bin at the Piggly Wiggly. Damned if I didn’t get the urge to drive to Arkansas last night, he says. Your mother stands behind him saying he’s pure USDA crazy. Fort Smith, Arkansas. Found a roadside stand out there with a feller selling plums. And I says, Buddy, I got a little girl sick back in Texas. She’s got a hanker for plums and ain’t nothing else gonna do. It’s when you sink your teeth into the plum that you make a promise. The skin is still warm from riding in the sun in Daddy’s truck, and the nectar runs down your chin. And you snap out of it. Or are snapped out of it. Never again will you lay a hand against yourself, not so long as there are plums to eat and somebody-anybody-who gives enough of a damn to haul them to you. So long as you bear the least nibblet of love for any other creature in this dark world, though in love portions are never stingy. There are no smidgens or pinches, only rolling abundance. That’s how you acquire the resolution for survival that the coming years are about to demand. You don’t earn it. It’s given.”
excerpt from Cherry by Mary Karr, context being after a suicide attempt at age 13
Some context: Texas and Arkansas share a corner border. Now, Texas is FECKING HUGE and there are many, many parts of Texas that cannot visit Arkansas overnight, but there are parts where it’s no trouble at all.
However, those places of Texas that are close to Arkansas, do not include “close to Fort Smith, Arkansas.”
The closest Texas gets to Fort Smith is about 185 miles (about 300km), at “a little closer than Texarkana.” (Dallas, fwiw, is about 275 miles/450km from Fort Smith.)
So the dad in this story drove at least SEVEN HOURS round trip, to pick up a bushel of plums for his little girl, in the hope that some almost-out-of-season fruit would convince her to go on living.
[Image Description: first image: a text message from Dad that says “Hello darlin hope ya feeling better. Please remember ya can tell me anything. I’ve loved you from the first time I laid my eyes on you & held you in the palm of my hand. This will continue to the end of time.” Second image: a map of Texas and a map of Arkansas, adjacent by just one tiny corner in upper east Texas and lower west Arkansas. Third image: a map of Arkansas with Little Rock near the middle, with Fort Smith in the upper west part of the state, nowhere near Texas. Fourth image: a map route from Texarkana, right on the border of Texas and Arkansas, to Fort Smith, a three hour and forty-five minute drive. End I.D.]
a while ago i was given permission by @heavensghost to make a fan comic using this very stunning poem :)
unfucked reblogged
“vivisection (you’re going to break my heart)” by Marty McConnell from The Best American Poetry 2014, edited by Terrance Hayes and David Lehman.
I know it is my father's first time on this Earth, too. And I know He had it worse when he was little.
But I was little too.
— Franz Kafka, from letters to his father