saphho

" Oh Captain, My Captain ! " - she/her - pathological people pleaser and liar. the confessions of a teen girl or something

[saddosaphho]

feel like im gonna look back and cringe on this in the next minute to 30 years.

bit wild to me that some people genuinley want to be alive. theres a lot more things that suck than not. and things worth living for come with sucky parts. the alternative seems much better. need some poetry to revive me. and no the smell of coffee isn't good enough!

[saddosaphho]

current itch

i want to do something teenage. i want to do something reckless and secret. i want to sneak out or get a tattoo or a piercing. i want to just do something im not allowed to do.

[saddosaphho]

nothing is going the way i want it too.

i liked person B for a cold minute back in feb. now person A is rumoured to like me. this is possibly the most middle school thing to happen to me since middle school. I do not like person A. at all. I respect person A. im supposed to me a poetic and introspective on this account but im just a teenager trying to figure out how to let someone down slowly, and try not to think that i have never ever been liked by someone who I like. and that its not my fault, and that im not attracting traits/values that I have. but i feel like a mean bitch who thinks im above than person A, all theyve really done is texted me more than often, always with good intentions, but i hate the idea that screenshots of my messages are being sent to group chats with their friends, or that people think im rude for ignoring his messages sometimes. I want to be blunt I want to pretend i don't know why this change has occured and I want to say, why are you texting me all of a sudden but dont ever really speak to me at school. you know what i know we aren't compatible so should i just reply and say, i think you are trying to be my friend here are all the reasons you wouldn't want that 1. i don't find even slightly misyognistic jokes funny 2. im vegetarian and will be for life 3. I don't believe in god 4. I hate swearing, and think its immature 5. I don't find you funny, my humor is mostly saying things at random times or making a situation awkward on purpouse, your humour is not.

6. I am way too woke, i know this because we had similar upbringings, and i strayed from it, while you stayed

7. i dont like that you text more than speak IRL. keep it face to face. Many of these things can be explained away give him a chance, what if the only reason your finding excuses is because you think hes chopped. you don't know him that well, give him a chance, be friends. okay i just wish i didn;t know he had a crush on me. and i don't like how his friends speak about girls. i don't like teenage boys period. they all seem a little bit evil. i hope they grow out of it, but girls are also a bit evil idk boys' evil seems a bit more targted at the farier sex. (irony...) ugh screw thissss

i think if this person looked more attractive to me this would be a very different post. i genuinely did not think physical attraction mattered this much. but also if this person was a girl i would give them a chance, because there isn't the looming knowledge of an "ulterior motive".

no conclusion no resolution everything just sucks.

[saddosaphho]

GATHER YE ROSEBUDS WHILE YE MAY!!!

THE FLOWER THAT BLOOMS TODAY WILL TOMORROW BE DYING !!!!

currently reading orientalism by edward said... i think thats his name. i am intellectual, i look beyond the surface level of every text and i hate sharia law! and i hate america! and i hate russia too! YES I CAN HATE BOTH and i wish marx was write but the world is to corrupted for socialism... thats what my dad sayz cuz he lived through the bad bad bad. anyway after i read said, i read marx, then i read kant, then i read socrates. then i read all the big brains from every community on earth, ive already read the riot grrl manifesto and i know about mongolian nomads. EVERYONE YOUR THINKING IS ABOUT THE BE ABSORBED AND ANALYSED BY ME!! WELCOME ME WITH OPEN MINDS AND ARMS!!!!

[saddosaphho]

mon, feb 23. 2026

okay its almost offical. i like a boyyyyyy. i have crush! this is a big deal... like the first one in year or so. and its weird. im having fun. and i feel so giddy !!!!!!

also this started about 2 days ago, where i asked myself... wait did i just feel a feeling about this guy. and then i moved on from that, and then swam, then we shared earphones, then he touched my hand, then he hugged me, then he sent me an instagram reel. alll over the course of 3 days, i think a got a crush.

i solemnly swear to not tell anyone and be very smart

and on the 2nd night when i really thought about it, i had resolved to tell him because i have this thing where i can't lie to him. or i can't be neutral... does this make sense? anyway i fell asleep and now i don't remember what i was planning to say and i why i thought it was actually a good idea... anyway when i last had a crush, all of my journalling type stuff became about that person. i will NOT be doing that thank you very much. and don't you worry some new opinions coming soon!!

[saddosaphho]

sun. feb 8 - wed. feb 11

how did i already fail at keeping this up...

this is my apolgy post witch is a work in progress tbh because im currently cooking up an opinion.

1 something learned/

okay i cannot believe i procrastinated this, THIS badly. its now feb. 11 oopsie! I think this is proof that i need to do it more because this is genuinly hard. to do everyday. 1 opinion/new thing i learned

i learned that organic fertilizer isn't accessible, i will find out why soon...

i learned that zionism can be funding israel in any way, and some people believe that there should be no state of israel, and do not recognize it in the same why most of the world didn't recognize Palestine. i think that 'zionist' is a word overused, it has lost meaning to some.

1 thing that made me angry/happy

my friend asked me about the greatest fanfic of all time, with genuine interest also i was sad because i saw a brokeback mountain edit and then all the following videos were depressing guitar covers and more brokeback mountain edits. the algorithm knows me too damn well!!1! i listened to some songs that an old friend had recommended me, yes friend i have a playlist about you. technically... 3! they made me happy

something i read:

if mary looks different in every country, that must mean there is no true face for her, so she must not be real. Don't you think? Latley I've thought about how easy life would be if I were to give up on God and the whole thing

[saddosaphho]

sun. feb 8

how did i already fail at keeping this up...

this is my apolgy post witch is a work in progress tbh because im currently cooking up an opinion.

1 something learned/

okay i cannot believe i procrastinated this, THIS badly. its now feb. 11 oopsie! I think this is proof that i need to do it more because this is genuinly hard. to do everyday. 1 opinion/new thing i learned

i learned that organic fertilizer isn't accessible, i will find out why soon...

i learned that zionism can be funding israel in any way, and some people believe that there should be no state of israel, and do not recognize it in the same why most of the world didn't recognize Palestine. i think that 'zionist' is a word overused, it has lost meaning to some.

1 thing that made me angry/happy

my friend asked me about the greatest fanfic of all time, with genuine interest also i was sad because i saw a brokeback mountain edit and then all the following videos were depressing guitar covers and more brokeback mountain edits. the algorithm knows me too damn well!!1! i listened to some songs that an old friend had recommended me, yes friend i have a playlist about you. technically... 3! they made me happy

something i read:

if mary looks different in every country, that must mean there is no true face for her, so she must not be real. Don't you think? Latley I've thought about how easy life would be if I were to give up on God and the whole thing

[saddosaphho]

wed. feb.4

1 opinion/new thing i learned

i learned that polyrythyms is just a time signature where the denominator is 8, david bowie died on my friends birthday

i don't know a lot, and a lot of the things i assume about myself i struggle to do, i have traits i dont like in others. i hate confontration and talking about feelings, send a manic pixie dream boy my way and let him teach me compassion!!!!

1 thing that made me angry/happy I was angry at my friend so i did a petty thing, and now im angry at myself for being petty something i read: okay i don't know if this counts but i make the rules.

0.58 - 1.40 of Troupeau bleu by cortex

"used to be one of the rotten ones, and i liked you for that" - broken social scene --- I have assimlated, and hidden everything unique about me to fit in, i used to be weird a 'rotten one' and ive lost that because, im scared? of what? now im in a weird middle zone, not counter culture and creative enough for the artists and not normal or rich enough for the plastics... help!help! get me out of here... maybe uni will make me weird again, fresh starts, no one knows me, uh oh but i don't know me either...help!!

[saddosaphho]

im back for good

i have a problem. i am not opinionated, thoughtful, or passionate. so im going to write what am i going to write?? i dont know ive tried to do this before on my notes app but i was inconsistent. I saw someone who writes 3 good things about their day everyday on substack. So what if i write 1 opinion/new thing that i learned 1 thing that made me angry/happy So lets start with today. 1. I learned yesterday actually how to say im pissed off in french, je suis trop deg 2. I was angry when i realised that someone i know works 7 days a week, with basically no labour rights. I realised that i benefit off of many people in my country with 12+ hours work day. I was happy when i was petting my dog in the sun and he started to fall asleep My new problem is that i don't know what to do with these things. but atleast theyre here for now. Anyway posting keeps me accountable soo yippeee!

[whenwegotolder]

hey you! 🫵

are you tired of doomscrolling?

do you want to read more but have a terrible attention span?

do you by any chance have a complicated relationship with your mother?

if you answered yes to any of these questions, may i suggest checking out my substack!? it’s the perfect place to find community, read my articles, and most importantly have fun!!

article one is out now :) i promise i have so much planned for this! it would mean the world if you read my article and or subscribed!

@percy: https://substack.com/@percysworld?r=6hw0oj&utm_medium=ios&utm_source=profile

food for thought | Substack

for the eldest daughters, for the youngest daughters, for everyone who wishes they had a sister, and for everyone in between

[saddosaphho]

How to get your parents to divorce tutorial no glue no borax???

[itsanidiom]

Burn - piano sheet music 

Composed by : Lin-Manuel Miranda

Transcibed by : ME

I transcribed this by listening ‘Burn’ on the Hamilton Cast Recording for about 8 hours on repeat. It’s an accompaniment, meaning PLAY AND SING ALONG~ HAHA do it it’s fun! 

If you DO play it make sure to link other people back here so they can find the sheets and learn to play it too AND if you record it please message me so I can listen and share with everyone! 

I’m going to continue writing sheet music until @linmanuel​ releases a score book! Next up is Farmer Refuted!

[chronictranssexuality]

"you don't owe anyone anything" You are a tar pit. Speak for yourself. I personally owe the cafe employees my dishes put away and my friends a listening ear and small scared insects a cup and a gentle trip outside. Hyperindividualism is a rancid infection borne of capitalism and willfully misinterpreted therapyspeak and I will defy it by continuing to be kind regardless of whether or not it benefits me personally

[dreamsister81]

Jeff Buckley by Shoshana Berger

Guilt and Pleasure, Fall 2007

I first saw Jeff Buckley perform at McCabe’s Guitar Shop on Pico Blvd. in Santa Monica. It was a sold-out show. I got in as the guest of the editors of Bikini magazine — a sort of proto-Maxim. David, a friend from childhood, and his pal Steve, a photographer, were acting as co-editors. In their late twenties with thick heads of hair and a whiff of immortality, they were the kind of bon vivants who took full advantage of their position on the masthead of a skin magazine, frequenting rock shows, calling in free swag, and scoring with models as often as possible.

I was twenty-three, and I had just left grad school to pursue a career as a freelance writer. I had never published anything outside of school journals and small literary reviews. David and Steve were my way in.

They had been playing me this Jeff Buckley record since I had arrived in Los Angeles. He was the son of the famed folk singer Tim Buckley, who died of a drug overdose when he was twenty-eight.

Jeff walked onto the stage with the lights still dimmed. In silhouette he had the look of a street urchin: wiry with a shock of wild hair. He held the microphone against his mouth and took a few audible breaths. Then, it began — the humming prelude to his song “So Real.” It was the saddest, most ravishing sound I had ever heard. He sang as if his life depended on it. From that moment on, I was transfixed.

The next day, David had an interview scheduled with Buckley, but David woke up a wreck. Over morning coffee, he asked if I would write the story instead. Steve would take the pictures while I interviewed.

We picked Jeff up a few hours later from a hotel in Hollywood. He hopped in the car with mussed hair, a black T-shirt and jeans, and an impish grin. If James Dean and Edith Piaf had done it, Jeff would have been their love child. The night before, he had created an operatic drama on stage, but in the daylight he was just a goof who knew his own charm. He did Elvis Presley impersonations. He ran off at the mouth. He gave off a phosphorescent heat.

Steve took us to his friend Kim’s apartment, which he thought would have nice light for photos. When she answered the door, I sank: she was iconic and blond, the kind of L.A. girl the rest of the world sees only on posters. I retreated to a windowsill and peered into the courtyard while she made us tea. Steve came up to me and said under his breath, “What are you waiting for? Start asking him questions.”

I had never done an interview before and had no idea where to begin. That morning, I’d feverishly jotted down a few ideas — questions that, after fourteen years of writing for magazines, I now know to be ridiculous.

Jeff sat across from me at the window. He had found a finger piano and was playing me a little tune. One question I remember asking him was more like an involuted analysis of his lyrics. I said it seemed he had had his heart broken, but was coming back for more. He looked up at me, eyes flashing, and said, “No, that’s you.”

Steve fired off a few more shots, and then it was over. The sky was on fire with sunset. We’d spent the whole day at that window, asking and answering.

Back at the hotel, Steve and I walked Jeff into the lobby and said goodbye. He and Steve pushed each other around the way cool guys do. Then Jeff put his arms around me and, holding tight, whispered something in my ear.

That summer I became Steve’s girlfriend. He drove a Mustang convertible, and we’d drive down the Pacific Coast Highway with our hair flying everywhere, belting Jeff Buckley songs. I remember thinking that Jeff’s cover of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” was like undressing in front of someone you love for the first time.

I saw Jeff two more times before he died. After his concerts, I’d go backstage to say hi. One night, about a year after we’d first met, he was sitting on a couch, surrounded by a lot of great-looking people, and called me over. His album Grace had come out and catapulted him into stardom, and it felt pretty great being the girl he asked to sit next to him, but as we talked I could tell that he had changed. No more rascally rabbit. No more easy smile.

A few years later, in 1997, my father brought me a newspaper clipping. Jeff’s body had been found washed up on the banks of the Mississippi River. He had been recording a new album in Memphis and, after a long day in the studio, had stopped with a friend to take a dip. They were playing music, and Jeff, in his old prankster way, had waded into the water fully clothed; he was pulled under by the swell of a passing barge. He was thirty — two years older than his father had been at the time of his death.

In “So Real,” Jeff’s voice recedes, then rises like a tidal wave. “I couldn’t escape from the nightmare that sucked me in and pulled me under, pulled me under. Oh, that was so real. Oh, that was so real.”

I can’t tell you what Jeff told me that day in the hotel lobby. Anyone who has fallen hard for a musician and his music will understand. It’s like hearing a secret language whispered in your ear.

📷 Stephen Stickler

[crpl-pnk]

draw stick figures. sing off key. write bad poems. sew ugly clothes. run slowly. flirt clumisly. play video games on easy. you do not need to be good at something to enjoy the act. talent is overrated. do things you like doing. it’s ok to suck

[saddosaphho]

I wish

[manafractal-deactivated20250906]

GOD EVERYWHERE

[saddosaphho]

Happy birthday to me... im older. And thank you to jeff buckley for your voice.