Lovisa Wallin
How I’m trying to live life
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@pettyghosts
Lovisa Wallin
How I’m trying to live life
The Paper-Airplane Collector
― Elena Ferrante, The Story of the Lost Child
[text ID: To write, you have to want something to survive you.]
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Paparazzi (1964), dir. Jacques Rozier
“We are our own dragons as well as our own heroes, and we have to rescue ourselves from ourselves.”
— Tom Robbins, Still Life With Woodpecker
Happy New Year peaches xx
On Halloween 20, 31st October
The uk were just waiting for this to be over
The kids all dressed up but can’t go trick or treating
Because all the adults were waiting for the government speaking
He borrowed time, he wasted
As we got wasted too
One hour went down, our bottles count two
The scientists did tell them. The numbers did say
But bojo ignored it, to the nations dismay
Don’t wear a mask. But wear a mask
Don’t go out but eat out
How can we continue like this,
The nation will shout
The nhs is breaking, but he doesn’t care
Even on Halloween, he will not be scared
He’s caught it. He’s been there, but he will not be told.
He was fat, but it’s not fat that brought him this cold.
This first wave has brought us quote unfortunately so many deaths
And how many colours should we see on your graphs
But he is afraid. And cannot ignore
Yet when he read what’s written for him
I will forgive my snore
Nobody wanted this. Neither did you
But right from the beginning you were shown what to do
Strong local leadership that you did ignore
Don’t insult them with thanks, when their voices were cut
Cut like the taxes which your cabinet don’t pay
Cut like the payment to that hospital bay
Cut to the business that had to call it a day
And cut to the child that did not have a say
I’d rather stay at home and build my own kingdom
And if I had children I’d take time to show them
That although this isn’t a world war three
It certainly feels like it, but maybe that’s just me
I cannot look at Churchill in the same light
To know that he also had to pity the plight
Of a nation in uproar
A nation in doubt
You say we’ll get through this.
But you said that back then.
You seem like a stuck record
Going again and again
You talk and good talk and you paint a good picture.
I wish I could see the team behind all the scriptures.
Throughout all the posters. The sayings and lies.
This poem has ended. It ended with lives.
The Family by Justine Kurland