The Apartment I Moved To When I Left

Hie/Hira This is where I will put my prose, poetry, thoughts, letters. and maybe some perfume reviews.

[jellywrite]

Hi, I’m jelly

They/them pronouns are good

INFP 4w5

All I do is eat cheese balls, suck at video games, and sleep

And sometimes, when a feeling hits, I’ll write

welcome! I’m so glad you’re here

I wanted a place to put down some ideas that I’ve been having. Some of these poems are old, and some are new. The stories are mine, it’s all very personal, in some cases maybe too personal.

I’m also a peer-reviewed autist, and my special interests include history, languages, art, music, and niche perfumes

Please leave me prompt ideas if you’d like me to try writing about something specific, fragrance suggestions/questions, even just a kind word if you’d like.

Please be gentle with me, with others and with yourself. In a world that’s got so many sharp edges, staying soft is a strength.

Thank you for hearing me ♥️

[fluidstatick]

with apologies to nathan and karina drawfee

[chateauofmymind]

slaughterhouse-five, kurt vonnegut

[jellywrite]

As I fade away from you I refuse to feel any guilt.

After all, if I wanted to die, you’d just let me.

I need someone who wants me, not a thought of me

[jellywrite]

Hey maaa

Met a boy whos gonna let me die mama

He doesn’t see

The way I let it go for too long til I black out

It’s fine with me

I’m cryin tho he’ll never know what it’s about

So I’ll just be

Starving quietly

Except the rumble in my heart

It’s threatening to tear me apart

Hey ma

Met a boy who’s gonna let me die mama

It’s okay, it’s fine why would I lie mama

It’s fine But I’m so tired

I’m so so tired mama

I hate it here

Playing pretend used to be so much fun

I’m turning gears

They uselessly click in my brain til I’m numb

Swallow all these salty tears

it’s been more than thirty years

And you remember who I was

But I can’t reach out because

Hey mama

I feel like I can’t look you in the eye mama

kicking, screaming, please just let me die mama

I’m trying to stay alive

I’m so so tired mama

They don’t know

People think they wanna know me

When they’re gone, I vanish,

And maybe I’m better as a memory

I’ve tried and strived

And I need to do so much more than just survive

If I can’t thrive

Then hey ma

I met a boy who’s gonna help me die mamaa

He’s sweet but he’ll just twist and wring me dry mamaaaa

But he’s a man so he can’t see

Just how much he steals from me

I love you ma

It’s not your fault and please believe that’s true mama

You did your best and I think I did too mamaaa

But sometimes you just gotta heave a sigh

Even if it makes you cry

Good bye

[jellywrite]

Me: *brushing my teeth*

My brain: tonight, on minty minutes! Hime bangs after 30: cute, or cringe??

[jellywrite]

It is the wildest, cruelest tragedy of life that those we love the most have the most power to hurt us, and in some ways? They absolutely will. It takes so much grace just to understand who is in your corner, and who has what capacity for which thing. Round it out with a “why can’t you get it together”, “when will you figure yourself out”, and the sense-ations ping about inside my skull, incessantly, painfully buzzing with each impact. People can only meet us as far as we’ve met ourselves, but the way to do that is through interaction with other people. Otherwise you get lost among the eels circling you, being zapped and shocked in ways that don’t sound like pain but taste like it, metallic in my mouth, itching at the back of my neck, searing lines between my brows.

[jellywrite]

“Inspired” by Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life

The scene in this movie with all the old men typing away as the building itself starts to blow by, it let me down an unfortunately existential path. Alas;

Click clack on a type writer

Life written out at 70 wpm

Print hides brave story and subtle triumph

Life comes to a close in it's own time

Letter by letter snapped on a crisp page

Is this whole place moving or just you?

Life catches on subtle breeze

Blown about little kites, with your words

As if they never mattered enough

to type out in the first place.

You're withering and gray,

You couldn't catch Life if you wanted to

Do you?

Perhaps you should just get off

At the next corner

Perhaps Life will find you then

At the end of your road

You should look where you're walking

Not only your infirmity should stop you

at this particular curb

But the sight of Life there,

Bleeding ink in the filth of the gutter

Pick it up gingerly now

lest the last precious page tears

Age-lined eyes pick up the few lines of Life

Left to devour

Fewer still to think upon

Let Life go, my dear

We were never meant to last

[jellywrite]

Healthcare

I can either go through the pain of the procedure, and maybe live, or I can wait for the relief of the symptoms, and maybe die.

We’re all dying anyway, so I lose nothing by choosing the latter, and I’m in no pain.

Remind me how the former is healthy? Remind me how it’s caring?

[jellywrite]

Meditating on Medicating

[so-many-ocs]

no dude it's so cool how attached you are to that character who is singled out and ostracized due to the external monstrousness that clashes with their internal spark of humanity. and i love how drawn you are to themes of horror and love, nature versus nurture, otherness, isolation, and the abject. i bet you have normal feelings about your own personhood

[jellywrite]

Hey…shush pls 🫣

[cloudy-rina]

Creature getting ready for winter 🥹🥹🥹 So princess coded 💖💖

Also challenged myself to draw an actual background this time hahaha

[jellywrite]

One thing that anime has that I don’t think I’ve really picked up on in any western cartoons is the realistic lessons on the positivity in striving, and joy in thriving. Not just surviving. All we do is survive, and we’re taught to do it on our own, and that the nature of economics or some such bs is why we all are just barely surviving. As though we couldn’t be doing better, for ourselves and each other. As though we should be living to work, instead of working to live, as though we’re not all walking ghosts, waiting for a strong breeze.

My mom told me she’d been reading articles (four, at least) on millennials’ failure to thrive. Apparently there’s a remarkably high number of us. It just makes me wonder why my thoughts on thriving and theirs, while different, aren’t both valid. Luckily, I believe mine are. Now. And I’m just finding that I’m maybe okay with always being afraid of being wrong, and of failing. I’m figuring out how to be. And I will strive to fucking thrive anyway.

[jellywrite]

When you leave

I’m gonna shave my head

I think it will feel good

To destroy something you loved.

[jellywrite]

If I leave on your birthday, would you see it as a gift?

[jellywrite]

It’s time to have muuuuuuuuch more audacity.

[jellywrite]

The commodification of life is the same as death.

The commodification of life is the same as death.

The commodification of life is the same as death.

The commodification of life is the same as death.