☀️🖤☀️

[roosnithecheilte]

Fáilte! Call me Roo 🖤

⋆.☘︎ ݁˖ Roo | he/him |

⋆.☘︎ ݁˖ Beekeeper/insect enthusiast

⋆.☘︎ ݁˖ Musician! I play 8 instruments (bodhrán, low, mandolin, violin, piano, guitar, viola, strumstick.)

⋆.☘︎ ݁˖ Singer/songwriter/writer

⋆.☘︎ ݁˖ All-around idiot

Here for a good time (and to share the drudgery of working on an album) awake at odd hours, trapped eternally in the throes of creative anhedonia. I’m terrible with social media — apologies in advance! Friends are always welcome. Message me anytime 🖤

Addendum: Just so all visitors to this blog (and to my art) are clear.

- Fuck ICE

- Saoirse don Phalaistín (🇮🇪🖤🇵🇸)

- All human beings deserve legal rights, bodily autonomy, a living wage, and freedom from oppression.

- No AI is welcome to learn from any of my songs

Times are hard. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out and I will do my best to help you. Whether it’s a listening ear, a resource, a place to stay - whatever I can do, I will do. All love 🖤

[roosnithecheilte]

No matter how old you get, your mam will always ask to see photos of you in your new trousers

[weltenwellen]

Taking Care  Callista Buchen

[roosnithecheilte]

why am I always writing when I should be asleep? Untenable, lads. Help me

[hannisconfused]

rip pádraig mac piarais, you would have loved “foreigners god” by hozier

[spaceboytoy]

Hello bisexual community

[spaceboytoy]

Begin killing

[tartrazeen]

[abyss-in-machines]

We owe it all to them.

[aeolianblues]

To repeat the message louder: musicians, journalists, radio stations, listeners, record companies, streaming sites, discos; anyone remotely involved with popular music, you probably owe a big chunk of it to black musicians.

[roosnithecheilte]

Heavy on this shit. Pay attention.

[seen-the-stars]

do u know how dire things have to be for hozier to agree with the pope

[roosnithecheilte]

I keep coming back to the post where that person calls me a liar. I don’t even know what to say about it. It’s insightful, anyway.

[apoemaday]

Mid-Term Break

by Seamus Heaney

I sat all morning in the college sick bay Counting bells knelling classes to a close. At two o'clock our neighbours drove me home. In the porch I met my father crying — He had always taken funerals in his stride — And Big Jim Evans saying it was a hard blow. The baby cooed and laughed and rocked the pram When I came in, and I was embarrassed By old men standing up to shake my hand And tell me they were ‘sorry for my trouble’. Whispers informed strangers I was the eldest, Away at school, as my mother held my hand In hers and coughed out angry tearless sighs. At ten o'clock the ambulance arrived With the corpse, stanched and bandaged by the nurses. Next morning I went up into the room. Snowdrops And candles soothed the bedside; I saw him For the first time in six weeks. Paler now, Wearing a poppy bruise on his left temple, He lay in the four-foot box as in his cot. No gaudy scars, the bumper knocked him clear. A four-foot box, a foot for every year.

[roosnithecheilte]

Together we made one white pair of shoes.

[roosnithecheilte]

Sometimes I stretch and am hit with a cramp in my leg so vicious I begin to think myself Achilles

[roosnithecheilte]

Let it just be stated I am NOT celibate and I resent the implication.

[roosnithecheilte]

One of my many miscellaneous curses is of course the deep and pervasive guilt.

This morning when I woke up there was a sleeping wasp on a basket of clean clothes in the bedroom. The act of putting her beneath the glass bowl woke her, and watching her tap sleepily at the new prison I’d devised for her made me so immensely sad. I brought her outside then (still clinging to the shirt she slept on) and tipped the glass bowl off her, but she was still too sleepy to fly away so I left my shirt out there. Hopefully she’s gone by now but the guilt will stay. I wish I could’ve kept her safe.

[weltenwellen]

In The Garden Christiana Castillo

[roosnithecheilte]

I’ve gotten notions about putting honey in some tiny glass syrup bottles I had. The labels won’t come off and I’m too tall to stand comfortably in front of the kitchen sink especially today (ouch! my back!) so soaking in a bucket of soapy water it is!

[roosnithecheilte]

Fuck the silo! Fuck the voice memos.