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@finnualabutler
My name is Finn. I'm 26. She/her.
Hi. For anyone who is interested, the above is my blog now. I haven’t posted regularly for quite a few years, but I’ve been doing a little more writing recently and will try to share some things from time to time.
I miss this community a lot.
Finn
Hello friends,
These are ten poems I wrote between 2016-2018, whilst I was living in Japan. I originally shared this collection on Instagram in September 2018, along with the text below. I’m really grateful to anyone who is still following this blog and I am excited to share this work with you.
Over the past few years I haven’t been writing much at all and when I have, I’ve been rejected from literary journals and hidden my work away in shame to the point that I’ve been questioning why I even desire to make art. When I was younger I started writing songs because I had no other outlet for my emotions, and maybe since then I’ve just become better at expressing myself in real life, but in many ways I feel more repressed now than I did as a teenager. Like my feelings are something to be absolved of, or to be made palatable for those around me, or to be broken into some kind of art approved by people I don’t even know. I really want to be free of that. I really want to make something exactly as I want to make it. (But then here I am on Instagram seeking your approval? Don’t @ me.) Anyway, I finished compiling this a month ago, but I’ve been very hesitant to release it because it is probably the most intimate work I have ever made (or at least shown anyone.) Although these poems are addressed to a number of different people, above all this is a kind of love letter to myself, saying... I was here, I was alive, I felt this. I felt this, that’s all.
CW for brief reference to self-injury.
What is the shape of your loneliness today?
Is it wide like mine, a street lined with pulled down shutters and laughter behind?
Is there too much space?
Or does it come in miniature, an amulet around your neck,
or a ring around your finger tightening with warmth and time?
Is loneliness wrapped as a gift on your doorstep,
longed so long for, which now demands respect?
Is it a flower?
Pressed between the pages of a book, can you steal its vigour?
Is it the size of a single night that grows to take on a lift of its own?
Is silence the sound of loneliness?
Or is it your lover’s breath, even as a sheet,
imprisoning you as they sleep here free?
What is the shape of your loneliness today?
Can I meet you in that space?
5 track album
I finally released my EP two days ago and I don’t think I realised until then just how much of my heart was, and is, tied up in it. Of course I knew I was writing about real things, and real people. And I relived things both joyfully and painfully whilst trying to put them into words. I re-read journal entries and tracked down notes on my phone and finally created something that felt honest, and I thought it ended here.
Maybe I thought that by creating something out of these events I could gain some kind of ownership over them. Or, knowing I can’t change the past, I hoped I could at least find some meaning in it. Really, I think I was hoping that releasing this would bring me some kind of closure.
Instead, it’s the opposite, and I’m questioning myself now more than ever. Have I done justice to these things? To these people who mean so much to me? I feel like I’ve cut out a sliver of my heart and put it on show for everyone I know. And I can’t take it back, and I can’t hide it, and I also can’t force it down anyone’s throat. You may never hear the song I wrote for you, and I have to be at peace with that.
See, for as much as I talk about honouring the past, I’m sure there was a subconscious part of me that believed I could somehow change things. That if I could just write something beautiful enough, everything would be perfect.
I can’t change the past. So why did I want to create this at all? Although difficult emotions and strange experiences influenced this work, it was really born out of a desire to give thanks for the people and places I called home for the past few years. When I look back, I think of a ferris wheel lit up against a dark sky, I think of sitting back to back on a playground swing, I think of kissing in the middle of the road, I think of building blanket forts and waking up aching all over, I think of steps and back gardens, I think of laughter. In my fondest memories, we’re laughing.
Hey friends I know this blog is basically defunct but I am still making music and you can listen to it on bandcamp and soundcloud!
the nights move slowly but by morning I miss you less than expected
Most recent first: my spine still hurts from the hardwood floor and cushions she pulled down in her wine-steamed dance whilst I made tea and laughed as the pegs snapped and sheets fell again and again and our entourage atomised until we were only three and like a charm, on ‘it’s your birthday, give it one more chance,’ suddenly she had pulled a new layer of night around us, and we lay in the dark and talked about being afraid. Then our third left, to save his back, and the two of us lay there for a minute or so thinking we couldn’t possibly get to sleep here. Seems that was enough of a lullaby. The next morning she told me we had a conversation whilst I was unconscious. She’d said I was having a bad dream and I didn’t believe her. How could it have been, if she was there?
extract from a poem about every bed I’ve ever slept in (via dystopiandreamhotel)
Hi friends,
I know I’ve posted about this a hundred times before but this is just a reminder that I no longer post any original work on this blog. I now write on a new blog, greatestreality, so please follow me over there if you want to continue reading my work as I’m going to shut this blog down at the end of the month.
Thanks as always!
Finn
LAST CHANCE! I’M GOING TO LOCK MY BLOG TOMORROW this evening! If you want to continue accessing it (i.e. my old work, largely from 2013) afterwards you can message me at my new place or email me at [email protected] and I’ll give you the password.
Hi friends,
I know I've posted about this a hundred times before but this is just a reminder that I no longer post any original work on this blog. I now write on a new blog, greatestreality, so please follow me over there if you want to continue reading my work as I'm going to shut this blog down at the end of the month.
Thanks as always!
Finn
My book is available on Lulu! And yes, this poem is in it.
Free shipping until January 17th when you enter the code SHIPSHAPE14 at the checkout!
My book, From The Wreckage, is now available to buy on Lulu!
You can also get free shipping until the 17th January when you enter the code SHIPSHAPE14 at the checkout.
So, a little about my book. It is very short, at just 24 pages, but in my opinion it’s 24 pages of my best work from the past year. It covers my personal journey through depression, anxiety and eventual recovery. (Still in progress!)
Buying the book: At present you can buy my book through Lulu. I’m hoping to get it on Amazon in the future too.
Personalised copies: I’ve had a few enquiries about personalised copies and I’m thrilled to hear that you’re interested. Send me a message and we’ll see what we can do. I’ll do everything in my power to keep a personalised copy at the same price as buying one from Lulu, but international shipping may cost slightly more.
Cost: I am not publishing this book to make a profit. I am publishing it because I am proud of my work and I wanted to thank my readers for supporting me always. I’ll be making just over £1 from each copy sold. If you are seriously struggling financially, shoot me a message and I’ll see what I can do to offer you the book at a discount, probably at the printing cost (no profit to me). I’d so much rather have many people read my book than make a big profit from few readers.
Trigger warnings: Ultimately, From The Wreckage has an uplifting message, but since it is about mental illness, yes, there are brief references to self-harm and suicidal ideation. If you are concerned about triggers, message me and I’ll give you more information.
After reading through the proof copy I was truly happy and also a little bit teary-eyed and I hope that’s what you’ll feel too.
MY BOOK IS HERE!
you look up to the empty clouds shuffling by and I look at you as if you are the sky.
Finn Butler (via nemikham)
Some News
After months and months of indecisiveness, I've finally put together my book, and I'm currently waiting for the proof copy to arrive before I put it on sale. It's a short collection called From The Wreckage which chronicles my personal experiences with anxiety and depression, and recovery from some of the darkest periods of my life. It contains around 24 poems, including some of the most popular works I've posted on my blog. If I'm happy with the proof copy and don't need to make any changes, it'll be on sale through Lulu in early January.
I know that many of my followers really wanted a collection of everything I wrote over the past year, but when I tried to put together that book it just didn't seem to be working. My poems about depression didn't fit with my poems about love with poems about random events in between and all in all the book didn't seem to have any 'truth' to it. From The Wreckage may be a lot shorter than the 365 book, but I feel it has a much more honest quality to it, and is a much better example of what I wanted to achieve with my writing.
If all goes well with From The Wreckage, I'm considering publishing another short collection of my love poetry, some of which I'm really proud of, but which simply didn't fit into this first book. Please let me know if that's something you'd be interested in!
As I've mentioned before, I won't be posting any new work on this blog from now on. I'm moving here, where I'll probably be posting less, but more quality pieces.
2013 has been an incredible year. I've written and achieved things I never thought myself capable of, and so much of that is thanks to your support. I will never stop appreciating that. As we move into the new year, I will be taking a step back from the tumblr community to focus on my novel, which I am still very passionate about, my studies, and my development as a writer outside of this blog. Of course, I'll never leave you entirely. You made me who I am. Thank you.
So look up, love, tonight: an identical light will fall on your tired, upturned face as falls on mine. Whatever traces remain of you here survive independent of place.
from Anywhere But Here, by Andrew Motion (via greatestreality)
My Reality
It’s been a strange and wonderful year. Although I think that anyone who writes can consider themselves a writer, in 2013 I felt myself become a poet, truly. I started university, and I fell in love. I achieved a lot this year, and yet I am still disappointed. I can’t say why. I look over photographs from this year and I don’t recognise myself; it’s not my own voice I hear when I read back my poetry.
I have not been honest. I have romanticised things that hurt. I gained a small following from my writing this year, and I started to write the things I thought you wanted to hear, rather than what I really feel. I left many things unsaid.
So why the new blog? I want another chance to recreate myself- no, to become myself. To be honest, and to be raw.
Is "everyone who terrifies you is 65% water" yours? Because if so, publish in some review. Get a little money, get the recognition you deserve. That is some good stuff (speaking as an ex-editor). Flog that shit to the journals. Get it more public than tumblr will take it.
Yes, I wrote the poem. I have to be honest; it doesn't move me, and I'm actually kind of embarrassed by it sometimes, although of course it means a lot that my poem has offered some comfort to a lot of people. But anyway, what I mean to say is that I have little reason to want to publish it in a journal, and unfortunately very few journals accept submissions that have already been published, and even if I removed the original post it seems to have been re-posted all over the internet already! It may sound pretentious, but I don't feel that "everyone who terrifies you" reflects my best work as a writer, and though my newer poetry may not be so popular, I'm having a lot of fun trying out new styles! "Everyone who terrifies you" was a big breakthrough for me, and helped me gain a lot of support, but for now, I'm happy to leave it in the past.
marathon,
I was thinking about how we all have to go at our own pace and my best friend told me not to say "I love you" back for at least 2 months but I did it anyway and just told her I was still thinking about it "thinking about what?" and I realised I'd never thought any of it through only felt it never realised I was out of breath
we all have to go at our own pace I know but sometimes you have to chase after hope when it's something you love all you feel is love you don't realise you're running you don't even consider the possibility that you could let it slip away
I am stuck in traffic in a taxicab which is typical and not just of modern life mud clambers up the trellis of my nerves must lovers of Eros end up with Venus muss es sein? es muss nicht sein, I tell you how I hate disease, it's like worrying that comes true and it simply must not be able to happen in a world where you are possible my love nothing can go wrong for us, tell me
Frank O'Hara, Song
