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Right side of my bed is adrornished by a world map,and on the left side a TV trolley with no TV but wrappers, books and Toothpicks over it. There is a sheen of dust that sparkles from one of the books.I have been meaning to read it as I have been meaning to clean the trolley. There is a broken globe too, off it's axis, lying beside the books.

My head has cleaved its way at the centre of my pillow making a perfect angle so that I can watch the clock on the opposite wall run till it dies.

There is a kurt cobain poster on my wall, "It's better to burn out than fade away". I have never really understood, Have I been burning out or fading away ? Is there even a difference.

There is a lot of tape on the wall and a lot of missing posters. What is even the point of posters?

I dissolve in my bed while my eyes stare into the abyss of turquoise blue, the colour of my wall.

I wait for the concert to end in my head. It is 3:25 AM and I still have 3 more hours to go till my body tires itself to sleep.

Upender

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How many heartbreaks can a heart endure to learn, this is what life does.

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Yesterday, I lost my voice to vodka and three ice cubes of your memory.

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[stinkyhat-deactivated20231213]

When you become 20 something, you have to forgive yourself or you will never grow up. You have to forgive yourself for everything and learn from it.

[toomanyrats]

on shame and yearning (pt.2)

[neophaim]

Sources:

S.T., "300122," Tumblr, January 30, 2022, https://www.tumblr.com/ryebreadgf/674840497145233408/300122-st.

Silas Denver Melvin, "love as an act of merciful conquer," Tumblr, November 2, 2021, https://www.tumblr.com/sweatermuppet/669052643259432960/from-love-as-an-act-of-merciful-conquer-by-silas.

chandajaan, Tumblr, accessed via https://rockboci.tumblr.com/post/674728141263093760.

Richard Siken, "Birds Hover the Trampled Field," in War of the Foxes (April 28, 2015).

Emily Palermo, "What I Could Never Confess Without Some Bravado," The Rising Phoenix Review, March 15, 2016, https://therisingphoenixreview.com/2016/03/15/what-i-could-never-confess-without-some-bravado-by-emily-palermo/.

Georges Bataille, My Mother/Madame Edwarda/The Dead Man (January 1, 1966).

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (April 1, 2000).

Frank O'Hara, "Homosexuality," Poetry Foundation, May 1970, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse?contentId=31570.

Heather Havrilesky, "I'm Broke and Mostly Friendless, and I've Wasted My Whole Life," The Cut, November 28, 2018, https://www.thecut.com/2018/11/im-broke-and-friendless-and-ive-wasted-my-whole-life.html.

Lucille Clifton, "climbing," in The Book of Light (July 1, 1992).

[beguines]

[127leilas]

i just dont think we were made to look at ourselves

[malaak]

Fernando Pessoa - The Book of Disquiet //  Milan Kundera - Immortality

[stainedpoetry]

Jiske liye tum khud se dur huye vahi tumse dur hogya

Ab kis chiz ka malaal karoge

Use khone ka ya khud ko khone ka?

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Jab chahun tumhe mil nahi skta lekin

Jab chahun tumhe yaad toh kr skta hun

[dogrotpdf]

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How do you un-breathe borrowed breaths?

[altruisticwriter]

“I killed a plant once because i gaveit too much water. Lord, I worry that love is violence.”

-joseolivarez

[altruisticwriter]

Plant

[195195119511951-deactivated2021]

“Leisure, Hannah, Does Not Agree With You,” Hannah Gamble

[merelhyn-deactivated20230720]

[Image description: a poem that read:

My house disgusted me, so I slept in a tent. My tent disgusted me, so I slept in the grass. The grass disgusted me, so I slept in my body, which I strung like a hammock from two ropes. My body disgusted me, so I carved myself out of it.   My use of knives disgusted me because it was an act of violence. My weakness disgusted me because “Hannah” means “hammer.” The meaning of my name disgusted me because I’d rather be known as beautiful. My vanity disgusted me because I am a scholar.   My scholarship disgusted me because knowledge is empty. My emptiness disgusted me because I wanted to be whole. My wholeness would have disgusted me because to be whole is to be smug. Still, I tried to understand wholeness   as the inclusiveness of all activities: I walked out into the yard, trying to vomit and drink milk simultaneously. I tried to sleep while smoking a cigar. I have enough regrets to crack all the plumbing. I’m whole only in that I’ve built my person from every thought I’ve ever loved.]

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