Downey & Dog Days

Late 20s, RDJ, TV Shows, Poems, Common Sense, Sad Times ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[inkskinned]

you get used to it, but it's tiring, because they need you to understand your own life as a series of goalposts. what college are you going to, what's your major going to be, whatcha gonna do with that, oh where will you settle down, when can i expect grandkids.

for the longest time my goals have been so blurry that they track into each other, their undefined edges slipping quietly back into the soft night. today i want to be a writer; tomorrow i will want to be a doctor, later i will wish i took that law school free ride. how the fuck do people just know what they want to do with their life?

where do you want to be in five years? i want to be alive; which is a huge step for me. ten years ago i would have said i want to be asleep and meant i hope that i'm dead by then.

but i want a yellow kitchen and a stand mixer. i want a garden and a fruit tree (cherry, if i can make that happen) and a big yard for my dogs to play in. i want to come home and read poetry out loud to someone and have them close their eyes to listen. i want a summer watergun fight. i want to make snowmen. i want to be the house to go to for halloween. i want my life to settle around me in a softness, for it to lay down gently. if i am very, very, very lucky, i want to travel; finally go someplace overseas.

of course i don't know what i want to be doing professionally. what i actually want to be doing is curling up beside my dog, settling in to read. i want to be making myself a cup of good coffee.

i can't answer the other questions. whenever people asked me what do you want to be when you grow up, i used to say i hope i'm happy.

i hope i'm still kind, five years from now. i hope i never get jaded and mean. i hope i have stayed in therapy. what do you picture yourself doing? when will you actually be an adult about this? why are you so afraid of being ambitious?

am i not ambitious? the other day i rearranged my furniture which doesn't quite fit into my apartment. i watered my plants. i'm going to try to propagate a cherry seed. my five year goal is to spend more time laughing. to lie down in a patch of sunwarm moss. to relax for a minute. to close my eyes and think oh thank god. this is why i stayed. this is finally it.

[64mpg]

“but if i communicate it perfectly then they will understand me” WRONG 10,000 years of suffering

[inkskinned]

beloved , on this the eve of your punishment (10 thousand years suffering immediately no parole), you may be tempted to think - but i really could have communicated it better, then they would have understood me.

you can try as long as you like to explain something: if the other person is not curious, kind, and willing to learn, no explanation will ever work. you would know if someone was trying their absolute best to understand you, despite the immortal problem of all humans being exactly the same and also never quite alike.

there is a difference between being heard and being listened to. i am a little blind in my left eye - you can explain what i do-not-see, but i will not be able to see it. i will listen, though, and you will feel heard. my perspective maybe not be exactly what you meant, perhaps, but no poem ever really escapes unscathed from the poet. the book i write about you will never really capture every facet. communication is imperfect and fluid; that's why it is behind all forms of art.

sometimes it is not even that you said something wrong, sometimes it is that you said something at all; and they do not respect you. sometimes it is that what you said is true, and they are scared to face that truth. sometimes it makes them feel wrong (guilty, ashamed), and they cannot listen or they will have 10 thousand years suffering in the personality equivalent of forced rhubarb growth.

ah. i see you rattling your chains. yes, my love, the hard part: this means the largest part of it was them, and their choice. after all, if you had been approached by someone pleading for understanding, wouldn't you have endeavored to at least attempt some degree of civil engagement? you would have, i know you. which means they saw you like that - desperate, wild, someone they were supposed to love - and they still thought this is not enough.

you have been begging them. they have watched you beg them for understanding, and they have not moved. you did not have a communication issue. the issue was with how they treated you.

this is the manner where we will begin your torture. what is immediately and impossibly evident to you is impenetrable to them: and that lack of understanding is, in all likelihood, at least a little bit on purpose.

i am sorry to say it because if you turn your eyes downwards to my ankles you will find i am also serving my 10 thousand years. i am saying this from the place you will be soon. before the dungeon swallows you, one final remark, i suppose: it wasn't your fault, and I love you.

[renni-bear]

Item: A Fancy Mirror Rarity: ✦ Uncommon

Which video game character do you most identify with (and why, if you like)?

Feed your dashboard by answering my question, blogger.

I don’t have any 😭 video games make me dizzy 😭

[reemillustrated]

love u all

[bebx]

“We hope this email finds you well” babe, the only emails I hope find me well are the ones from Archive of Our Own

[crisismoth]

sometimes i be saying im gonna go to bed and then i dont go to bed. frequently in fact. this is because i have the heart of an optimist and the soul of a liar

[sourdough-seal]

hyperfixation please stay with me long enough to complete the project. hyperfixation do not fade. hyperfixation finish what you started for the love of god

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

MAY YOU NEVER LOSE YOUR HYPERFIXATION

[feelingsinclouds]

— heroes are only heroes until it takes its toll // p.s.

[ageofultron]

I learned a secret…

[oscar-isaac]

ROBERT DOWNEY JR. Announces his return to the MCU as Doctor Doom at SDCC - July 27, 2024

[inkskinned]

i would cry about movies and kpop and birds flying home. i cried because there aren't any true midnight rainbows, i cried because what if cars are afraid of high speeds and that's why they shake. i cried when my friends were nice to me, i cried over good food, over kind gifts. i have cried at weddings and i have cried over fanfic.

when i talk about what happened, my body goes all numb. like everything turns static where it used to be vibrant. i shrug one shoulder and i wait for the breakdown - because it surely should be coming, right? - but somehow. somehow. this terrible open calm comes over me, a frigidity like deep ocean. i just stand there in the memory and say: yeah. i guess it shouldn't have happened.

[inkskinned]

everyone says you can always restart. that your future isn't forgotten, just sort of misplaced. they name actors and singers and authors who started at 46, 59. they cite chappell roan's 10 years. they tell you to push and push, that some day you'll open a door and the truth will be behind it.

but what if you aren't a celebrity in sheep's clothing. what if you're just a normal person. most people aren't exceptionally talented or else talent wouldn't be exceptional - right? what if you're just another median person; not ever startlingly bad nor terrifyingly good.

you put the shopping carts back and you walk your dog and you write poems on the internet. you have grown a plant or two; killed a few others. you did okay, overall, and you've been okay most of your life. not valedictorian, but you were a smart kid. you had some hard knocks, but you got up again. your life is just - average. you probably will never sing onstage at coachella. most of the time you are at peace with that - someone needs to drive the speed limit. life isn't about extraordinary circumstances, it's just about building a life you love and figuring out how to live in it.

but you would like to feel as if you'd found "the answer." everyone else seems to have some kind of talent they are born nesting in - and meanwhile you just exist. is that why you cycle through crafts and hobbies and activities like a roulette wheel? are you waiting for the moment where it turns out - all this time, you've been a visionary. a genius. all this time, you were special. even you: someone who has-never-been.

crawling up your throat: something bitter and savage. not quite a feeling of wasted potential. after all, you need to first have potential in order to waste it.

[inkskinned]

you're not quite an emergency, is the thing. you're just having a bad spell. so what if you can't ever really catch your breath. can't ever really feel at ease. a buzzing, terrible feeling.

but emergencies are loud, and passionate, and hit the floor. you are not a lion or a hurricane, you just live in a pretty okay apartment and your back hurts. you wake up and drag yourself out of bed and banish what if i was dead thoughts like cobwebs. you pick out your clothes and try to stay active. you apply for jobs on the internet.

the anxiety is a wave, and the depression is a spiral. the other stuff keeps things "colorful." you mitigate your symptoms and take your meds when you have them and you try to hang out with friends. you go home and your head is full of riverwater. no matter how much you sleep, you still stay tired. you journal and practice gratitude and build from the bottom upwards. and still, the haunting.

you're not a 911 call or a shriek. you're just staring up at the ceiling and feeling the house settle into your bones. you feel you are playacting as a wolf when you're only a sheep. not quite dry and not quite drowning.

over and over, you slog through the creek.

[valtsv]

i've had enough of being so brave about it i want to start screaming

[feralrizz-deactivated20230802]

The psychological thriller of figuring out what you want and what you’re going to do about it

[last-honey]

in 2025 let’s bring back being enthusiastic on ao3. leave a comment on every chapter. leave kudos and, if necessary, leave “double kudos” in the comments. tags and notes on bookmarks. the whole nine yards. let’s show fanfic authors how much we love them.