❁

[mournfulroses]

Lois Lowry, from her book titled "The Giver," originally published in 1993

[lifeinpoetry]

it’s been said that when you step away / from the shadow of any colossal thing, // it shrinks. But the shadow / of my birthplace // is a relentless spirit / refusing to be left behind.

— Saddiq Dzukogi, from Book One, Bakandamiya

[lifeinpoetry]

I refuse the song of hope, tethered to nothing // but more hope.

— Saddiq Dzukogi, from Book Three, Bakandamiya

[lifeinpoetry]

But I don’t want to forgive the betrayal. // Which means I still carry my own wounds. / I still carry a folded tongue, // burnished with silence; / the sweet nectar of poetry withers.

— Saddiq Dzukogi, from Book Two, Bakandamiya

[headspace-hotel]

Here's an idea about why kids are so anxious and depressed all the time...the environments kids are in most of the time are very stressful and don't fulfill their needs for play, rest, proper variety of foods, positive social opportunities, and freedom from fear pain punishment etc

[headspace-hotel]

Like everyone with any basic understanding of animal welfare knows that if you put an animal in an enclosure that is too crowded, without hiding spots, with no freedom to move around, no ability to avoid harsh and stressful stimuli, and scare it by shouting at it and punishing it, the animal will become stressed and start chewing its own fur off or hurting itself or become sick or unable to eat...

But we expect human children to grow up in these conditions and literally blame them when they develop the exact type of problems that any creature under those conditions would

[banji-effect]

Tracey Emin, Here We Are Again, 2025

[ce-sac-contient]

Tracey Emin - Birds, 2012.

Lithograph printed in colours (76 x 60 cm).

[honlei]

the cats are so joyful here. one imitates the birds on the balcony & oh my heart.

started LDN and hoping it may have some subtle impact on inflammation pain. we will see.

burnt out & traversing through processing the last few months. wild to think one of the first things i thought after moving was "oh i can cry here and no one will catch me and be mad".

doozy wobbly days. emotions i am still unsure why *i* am having and not observing from afar in other parts. well, i know why. but i am unsure because it feels like my body and mind are less mine than they already were. it was easier to feel gentleness towards the parts who were hurting. now it's in me i just... it's complex.

they're not fusions, but they do feel like blobs of parts coming together, merging, going back out again, sometimes leaving bits behind in each other, sometimes separating entirely again.

none of it is a choice and i am glad i knew that was a possibility because most of what i see is "you can choose integration over fusion" in the functional multiplicity spaces.

the parts coming to exist was never intentional, even later on. it seems how they interact and morph and retract right now is also not a conscious process.

which is okay, yet i feel unfamiliar in myself. and more familiar with certain parts. and deeply, deeply alarmed by the somatic flashbacks which make me hope beyond fucking hope that child us did *not* feel that and it's an adults re-imagining of what the physical pain was like. i think that hope may be unrealistic. yet also what the fuck bro.

[weltenwellen]

Chen Chen, Your Emergency Contact Has Experienced an Emergency

[asmybreathkissesthewindow]

beautiful questions from Deep listening by Pauline Oliveros

[sivavakkiyar]

Deep Listening

Deep Listening

[fairycosmos]

accidentally got stuck in a compulsive thought loop instead of living any sort of life

[lifeinpoetry]

Do you really not belong to me, dear body?

— Moshtari Hilal, from "Dying Prayer," Ugliness, tr. Elisabeth Lauffer

[lifeinpoetry]

Like a snake eating another snake, / I am still the river // swallowing myself. 

— Saddiq Dzukogi, from Book One, Bakandamiya

[robinboardman]

An albino turtle hatchling sits among other Arrau turtles Tapauá, Brazil Photograph: Edmar Barros

[havingapoemwithyou]

A not admitting of the wound (1188) by Emily Dickinson

[primulaceas]

John Steinbeck, East of Eden

[strangerconnection]

you know, i don't remember