enough apologies

howwhywuz, howwhyam: sept. 14, 2007 - may 28, 2009

[widenerlibrary]

Charming images from an Italian children’s book about bears invading Sicily.

La Famosa Invasione degli Orsi In Sicilia (1945)

#bears #orsi #dinobuzzati #childrensbooks #library #illustratedbooks #books (at Harvard Yard) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5JDgYvHqtk/?igshid=1l07t90kusvwy

[naturaekos]

“because this is what you do. get up. blame the liquor for the heaviness. call in late to work. go to the couch because the bed is too empty. watch people scream about love on Jerry Springer. count the ways it could be worse. it could be last week when the missing got so big you wrote him a letter and sent it. it could be yesterday, no work to go to, whole day looming. it could be last month or the month before, when you still thought maybe. still carried plans around with you like talismans. you could have kissed him last night. could have gone home with him, given in, cried after, softly, face to the wall, his heavy arm around you, hand on your stomach, rubbing. shower. remember your body. water hotter than you can stand. sit on the shower floor. the word devastated ringing the tub. buildings collapsed into themselves. ribs caving toward the spine. recite the strongest poem you know. a spell against the lonely that gets you in crowds and on three hours’ sleep. wonder where the gods are now. get up. because death is not an alternative. because this is what you do. air like soup, move. door, hallway, room. pants, socks, shoes. sweater. coat. cold. wish you were a bird. remember you are not you, now. you are you a year from now. how does that woman walk? she is not sick or sad. doesn’t even remember today. has been to Europe. what song is she humming? now. right now. that’s it.”

— Survival Poem #17,” Marty McConnell (via naturaekos)

[electricraccoonincident-deactiv]

– Louise Bourgeois, detail from 10 am is When You Come to Me (2006)

[lifeinpoetry]

I look at photographs of us

by those bodies of water, your ripe mouth frown-stained, as if I was fiddling with that grandfather

clock built into your chest. There was a time when I knew you though—face, hands, pendulum.

Now I’m undressing with my winter teeth.

— Caitlin Scarano, from “What You Killed, What You Thought,” Do Not Bring Him Water

[giadaganassin]

[folkjunk]

[woundgallery]

tracey emin, no you still hurt, 2007

[recaption]

[andlifemovesonn]

[lifeinpoetry]

“I’ve been trying to go home my whole life—”

— Chelsea Dingman, from “Psychogeography,” published in The Los Angeles Review

[emotionalwords]

[perrfectly]

“I found peace in your violence”

— Marshmello (via neckkiss)

[designbby]

[salemwitchtrials-deactivated202]

[ID: excerpt from “4.48 Psychosis,” Sarah Kane 

my body decompensates  my body flies apart’]

[blua]

[enoughapologies]

an exercise in telling myself what i need to hear when i have no one to turn to

“hey. i know we haven’t talked in a while but i’m really struggling with existing inside of myself and i could really use a friend right now. i really need to be reminded of why i fighting so hard to keep going when giving up sounds so nice.”

“fuck margo. think about we went through, what happened that led us, all of us, to each other. remember when we existed on linear timelines? when we would lie around and talk about how no matter where life took us, that we’d end up neighbours in our 70s and grow old next door together? remember when you didn’t believe me that ice and salt burned through skin so we tried it and ended up severely burning the tops of our hands? remember when we were addressing envelopes for rhonda, blasting eminem in the admissions office, and you cut your finger and bled all over the entire stack so we had to start from the beginning? what about when we stole jaina’s redbull and candy and for some reason kelsey or whoever it was took the blame for some reason? and we stood in the back hallway and giggled about it while we stuffed m&ms into our mouths? we used to play scrabble every day for hours, got so good at it that we could beat the whole school. you remember how you became friends with x? i heard her puking in the bathroom but was too nervous to offer her help. you walked right there, though, and talked to her. she cried to you on that green bench and you were friends ever after. that’s the kind of person you were then. and that’s the kind of person you are still. you’ve fought so hard to come this far. think about all the people we’ve lost - we’re the lucky ones margo. our battle didn’t kill us. we’re still here fighting. we gotta fight for them too - carlos, the boy who sang a dashboard confessional for kendra in front of the entire school, albert the brilliant artist, jeff and his huge stupid grin, for liam and alden and jacob and tom, fuck, remember when jacob ran to the school building through the snow barefoot because he didn’t want to mess up his shoes? for andre and sam and everyone else. we’re here, we’re lucky. we got another chance. so you better believe that this isn’t the end for you. you better believe there’s more out there for you. never forget that we went through hell and still came out golden.”

[julykings]

“Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it’s noon, that means we’re inconsolable. Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. These, our bodies, possessed by light. Tell me we’ll never get used to it.”

Scheherazade, Richard Siken