seizing the freedom... @citronellaww - Tumblr Blog

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still absolutely surreal to know my work is in Peter's zine ❤️

#peter doherty #the libertines #pete doherty #Instagram

dyslexic scholars, disorganized archivists, high-contrast photographers, producers with inadequate equipment, shortsighted mystics, placid hallucinators, pedestrians in empty parking lots, compulsive scribes, those whose work is poisoning them, indecisive traitors, prison tattooers, bored waitresses, new world geologists, functional alcoholics in useless professions, filename poets, amateur degenerates, anyone whose pet is really weird, street sweepers, those whose holidays are celebrated ironically, paranoiacs who have been right one single miraculous time, patchy shavers, sloppy conspirators, honest teachers, failed influencers, those wearing too many layers on a warm day, unqualified translators, prisoners making good use of their time, mendacious cartographers, generous bartenders, and so on, and so forth

#Yes.

papayajuan2019

lately when i've been going to bed i've been trying to imagine a darker shade of red than i did the night before

torrel

rothko sleep

allsadnshit

We are all shedding old skins this year I can feel it in the air and I think although we all handle it differently - we are gonna come out a little lighter and feeling possible again

#Amen

chronicpoetry

You know, we thank some people for merely living at the same time as we do. I thank you for the fact that I met you, that I will remember you for all my life!

- Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights

carterinwanderlust

Now more than ever we need people to make and distribute Zines

suchasinistergame

Jon McClure of Reverend and the Makers has been putting together a collection of letters people have written to their 21 year old selves, and Carl contributed a letter ❤️

#I really really love this idea and Carl's letter is very beautiful and emotional in many ways.#It really did make an impact on me when I read it and I still have some lines from this pinned on my moodboards.#For instance — “don't seek validation. validate yourself”#“your passion has a place. Your frustration has a purpose.” << These too!!!#And the ending!!!! Still bawling my eyes over it.

pictureinme

breakfast on pluto (2005)

#lives rent free in my head #Along with the music

Using England's finest cowboys to lure you into reading my new Substack, and as a country chick at heart, I'm not ashamed one bit. It includes a poem or two, plus loads of pictures and silly musings! Click, or a seagull will steal your chips.

#the libertines #personal essay #substack #poets on tumblr #writerslife

nevver

Bust a move, Ronit Porat (because)

gary-banksy

Monumental Momentum a quick zine about persevering

inkpressedpetals

My birthday is coming up, and I caught myself thinking about the past year — a very life-changing, bloodsucking, brutal, brilliant, genius year — and stopped at the realisation that this summer marks 3 years since I came back to writing and wrote the first poems under the HEAVY influence of The Libertines and affiliated bands. They ripped my heart open, and I thank 'em pirate bastards every single day !!

To honour this, here is a message to the old me — and maybe to all of me — to the melancholic girl in short ripped shorts frolicking in the garden in humid summer rain, humming the tune of Salome and Grimaldi, and later blowing the dust off the old Soviet typewriter that's missing several letters: keep doing that, no matter what they say, how they'll try to mold you, make you smaller, make you pale in your face... Keep being the poet you've been so mercilessly growing into. There's this Columbo with a soft voice and a big heart (and warm hugs), and an anecdote or two (that you'll forever grin about), whose words about your poetry will one day make you weep the tears of joy of finally being seen & understood — and this will not even be the peak of that magic. This will be the beginning.

and!! cannot forget this ethereal Mallorcan god/guy (who's actually not Mallorcan but could pass) who will stick your William Blake book and your poetry in the back pocket of his sprinted-on skinny jeans (and then sit on it, I think), and grin at you like he already knew you called him a William Blake scholar in the dedication (he probably sensed it from the tremble in your hands) and you will experience a full-circle moment so grandiose, so consuming, you will fall on your bum on the stairs and have all of that tattooed in your very embarrassed consciousness (and bones) forever.

Fuck (and cringe) forever, little girl poet. (but do try to hold onto the rails sometimes, pls.)