afyer's archive

just call me afyer ● he/him ● poet, author ● please send prompts!

[afyerarchive]

afyer's archive 💐

hey cool people,

please call me afyer. i am a writer, poet, and shitposter on this site. for more information and masterlists, see below.

about me

confession: i don't know what i'm meant to put in this, so here's a bit of info about me that you don't need to know but i find silly enough to share.

my pronouns are he/him

i am an adult, and undergraduate at a BIG10 school studying mathematics

i write poetry to vent, commentate and illustrate

i have been writing poetry since i was fourteen

afyer comes from a character i made in @xarrixii's "flash/burn"

you are always open to send me questions, or writing prompts

and if you want to be mutuals i would love to!

i am interested in:

poetry

short and long fiction of almost all genres

drama/plays and music

science, algebra, other nerdy things

laying in bed with my army of plushies

ice cream

hope this helps.

i honestly don't intend to keep this blog artistic, mysterious, sad, anything like that. i want to be my actual self, which means a lot of posting about random things, silly things; basically, don't expect every post of mine to be some meaningful work of literature.

last thing to note: i am not opposed to writing about dark, triggering, controversial and serious topics. some of the topics i have written about include but are not limited to: trauma, assault, breakups, overstimulation, drug abuse, suicide, family issues, etc. i try to tag these posts to the best of my ability; please, be careful. if i forget a tag, i urge you to let me know as soon as possible.

such posts listed above should not be seen as a cry for help. the most they will ever be is a reflection of current or past feelings, but never will they be threats of things i'll do to myself (or in some cases, others), nor will they be guilt trips, or anything like that. these devices and topics may be used to expand metaphors and narratives, or commentate on an idea.

masterlists

POETRY (INCLUDING DIARIES) written by me can be found here.

FICTION (INCLUDING PLAYS) written by me can be found here.

last but not least, have a great day.

[afyerarchive]

yes officer i can be trusted with sequences

[afyerarchive]

sorry got emo on main again

[afyerarchive]

Seven Ate Nine

I'm sorry you hate who you are,

that prisoner in solitude

Midwestern rendezvous

now she follows you,

harbors you,

harbors the you who hates who you are.

Why was six afraid of seven—

six, seven, jokes—

aren't funny to you;

Midwestern rendezvous.

Now he follows you,

slanders you,

slanders the you who abates the you who hates.

Afyer is out in the world somewhere sound,

and refuses to pull the trigger once more.

Then, seven ate nine,

and this joke becomes your sublime;

A Midwestern crime, but

there's no time like the present to quit your job.

Why was six afraid of seven—

six, seven—

seven years, all to an end

and it isn't funny to me;

Midwestern ends,

bipolar acting up again,

your excuses are coming out again.

[coffee-poetry-cigarettes]

chaos theory — nothing is predictable nor comprehensible, as there are too many variables to be able to calculate life and its byproducts at all

[afyerarchive]

Does good news always beget bad news?

No.

[luminote]

"This is how we blur into one. this is how we devour each other for eternity." - @literaryvein.

[mossquitoman]

I love mathematicians so much. No one else is doing it like them. Group of people genuinely only in it for love of the game. Everyone else hates their subject and thinks its boring and useless and these guys are out here talking about how beautiful and incredible and poetic it is with a twinkle in their eyes. No other subject has such a crazy disconnect between public perception and reality. I love it.

[afyerarchive]

What they call you, a "Stoic"

It's one of our biggest burdens as a world that we worry about the things that matter so little.

I don't pose here as a doomer, thinking "why should I worry what so-and-so said last week? We all die in the end anyway." That's a stupid way of thinking.

I wish to step away from the lazy life: judging other peoples' looks, the typos we humanly make, the "soft launching" we refuse to do on social media, or stalking the lives of celebrities.

[sleepydrownedrat]

Designed a pride flag for gay people who hate ai

[afyerarchive]

When You Try to Go Solo

Y'know those video essays,

those deep dives into human deprevity,

of the needy, greedy, richest human scum?

What tragedy,

isogamic orgasmic spiritualistic lines,

makes me hate the rainbow.

It took a loveseat lie

and a sob on rocks

for my head to unlock;

you beg,

beg,

beg,

beg! to go solo.

And those PSAs in the halls;

Is your online romance a scam?

I don't know what I am.

It took a story's green

a life on your feet, really

a distraction from what knocks you down;

throws you around;

then makes those desires turn up a frown;

you beg,

beg,

beg,

beg! to go solo.

[afyerarchive]

Who I'll Be, Insanity

[goodluckclove]

Don't believe everything you see online. Support local businesses by asking strangers in your neighborhood to give you misinformation. Artisanal, handcrafted mistakes. You can really taste the difference.

[afyerarchive]

Sometimes the thought of something is better than the thing itself. I used the Wayback Machine to find a song that was deleted, and I remembered it sounding leagues better than it really does.

Anyways, I think that's how I feel about romance too

[afyerarchive]

Oh, Advent!

I stare down an armament

of donated clothing on racks

with an inflection that beckons

that I'm stepping into the real world,

now.

Now,

I look to the future, at the real world,

as the clothes I'm wearing begin

to drift away with clock hands.

Let's make new memories.

[afyerarchive]

Is The Good Life Cucked by Neolithic Tumblr-Era Nihilism?

As the ringmaster of my thousand and one dolls, I now try to make Nietzsche and Seneca kiss!

I don't care about their inner-workings, or what their romantic good life might entail, but I think the concept is funny, so I send "hope and prayers" that they work it out.

What does it mean to not go gentle into that good life?

There's days I scroll on Tumblr—on worse ones, X—and step away for a moment to ask myself this question. The POTUS gets out another word, and the world cries wolf for the thousand and second time. These avatars of anime characters and adorable pets have solemnly missed the point.

This is to say I'm rooting for Nietzsche—little doll, there was once a day I despised you, but since then I've realized I was living in the depths of green, jealous of those who understood the world more than me. Maybe this time, I won't hide his face behind a capital H.

I like to tell myself that I refused!—They never caught me going gentle into that damn good life. As A sits across from me, he tells me how far I've come. Now, my mom could never call me a doormat.

I've come to not fear telling people to shut up—rethink their worthless Tumblr-Era sad life. Though the contrapositive of my friend has their reservations (no room for nuance, all that) I let myself smile and nod as I study for my next biology exam.

Do not go gentle into that damn good life.

Self-respect was a concept I never learned of until I was free from my mother's nest. When you rely on somebody for one thousand and three percent of what you need, you lose touch with the life awaiting your arrival and cling onto the mothership. Some leeches are even still there today.

Do not be the leech on another's damn good life.

A sits across from me three months prior, trying not to miss a beat as I sing my heart out in song. But, he poses a question: one I should be familiar with by now!

What does it mean to not go gentle into that good life?

The POTUS gets another word out, and I've regressed back to who I was. Not so unlike the twerp who threatened her for the thousand and fourth time, I let that anger surge beneath my veins. Only, this time, I'm not afraid for those I love to see what's beneath.

I now think that's a double-edged sword.

There's been too many instances as of the current day where I'm balancing the weight of who I am around different people. Inherently, this has shaped what my good life looked like from the beginning.

One thing I refuse to ever do in my life is cry to God. That's the first step in my self-respect, and I know that I can do this. But in hindsight, knowing that I've made people uncomfortable, been difficult to navigate difficult conversations with, and let my morals blind me in a way that makes me look irrational, I can't help but loathe the person I thought I could trust.

I ask A to punch me if I sound silly here, but living a life as rich and as tempting as mine has been, you'd think I would've found my path by now; you'd think I'd have reached equilibrium with the self-respect I desire and the love I have for everybody who's around me. But I haven't.

I know by now that I need to come to terms with the imperfections in the world. Unless every eight billion plus people on this planet manifest what the good life looks for them, the plants will still die. The grandmas will still mourn. And the POTUS will still gossip.

Why do I refuse to blame myself then, if I know how I've treated others is wrong? Is it protection from how God might use my good life against me, and that I'll end up in some fantastical place like Hell? The simpler answer might just be my ego: for my entire life, I've strived to diverge to uphold my certainty, and that led me to loathe this Tumblr-Era Nihilism as well. I can yell "I'll never be like them!" trying to convince A that I'm a real activist!—A real socialist!—All the while, I'm the little screw-up who doesn't even know what a Zionist is.

I now think there was no sword to hold from the start. Why would I try to weaponize that damn good life?

It only led to people I loved being hurt in the process—even if many of them don't outright say it, I can tell that the way that I interact with the world has never been healthy. I wish, as writing this, I had an answer right now, but all I can do is wallow with my guilt while listening to the sad lofi playlist I put on in the background.

After closing Tumblr, I will begin to do my homework. I will continue to flaunt my own ego, blow up who I am, and ponder the question "have you ever really been in love?"

I don't know, A.

Who could love an egocentric Tumblr-Era Nihilist?

[afyerarchive]

Clara on a Flat Note

1 2 3 4

1 2 3 4

1 2 1 2

4 3 2 1

But you never knew it,

your fuck-ups were your livelihood

1 2 3 4

1 2 3 4

1 2 3 4

1 1 1 1

Before I knew it,

you were already gone

1 2 3 4

1 2 3 4

1 2 3 4

1 2 3 4