#massivetragedyblizzard

[massivetragedyblizzard]

11/5/2025

We fuck and you put this down in your case files. We fuck and I shower. I eat. I write about virginity and not about you. We fuck and you make a star chart. We fuck and I take walks. I go to class. You know I'm a [the] cancer. You disagree. Hey. It's funny. Laugh! Laugh because it'll help you when this implodes. I thought *I'd* be the starstruck one. You've been getting girls in your bed since 12 but I'm the nonchalant one? You know I don't care. I mean I do, you say it all the time. Do I? I extend the mic to our live studio audience. They'll never know. Only me and only you.

Which of us will die, drugs in our veins? Me? Lean into the mic before you answer - they need to hear this. Who?

I joke about narcotics, and you've seen them. You work in hospitals and I stay in them. My heart, thinning, and your hands on a scalpel taking a look. Your days working and my days starving myself out. Your visa and my appointment with the bathroom floor. I'm curled on *your* floor, knees to chest, covers over my body. I'm curled in pain, waking with cramps, walking and hoping I don't pass out, and you're whispering in my ear.

I'm so hot? I'm perfect how I am? This isn't me. This is me dying, trying to make myself holier. But keep going. This is how you know me: hot and tragic. You won't see me in a week, head over a bowl, tears down my cheeks, snot in my nose. You didn't see me, repulsive to my friends, chest stripped of flesh.

[massivetragedyblizzard]

4/8/2025

every day here i get ready, put on my headphones, and walk from the metro to the centre. i watch the planes take off and land at reagan, and i watch as they speed away, train barrelling into the trees. i feel sweat on my neck, under my tits, in the pores of my face, and i walk right by the bus stops, gesturing for the driver to move on. i sign my name like elementary attendance sheets and put my bag in my cubby like my highschool locker and take out my pencil like im taking notes. i am a good psych patient. i work the puzzle obsessively, i speak in every session, and i strive to make providers laugh. i make conversation at the table and am honest on surveys. i am not afraid to say 'suicide' and i try to give good advice to group-mates. i take my meds. i get my vitals taken, standing on the scale with my back as straight as i can make it, laying with the cuff digging into my arm, thinking of all the needles. what i mean by this is- what i mean by this is i still spend hours in pacing the supermarket and i still hurl and i still feel the stagnation stuck like sweat on my skin. i still feel like a complete mess, and i am terrified. i am terrified. i am terrified. what i mean by this is-

[massivetragedyblizzard]

found some shit from november (11/2024) that I like the look of. old work but good work (I think):

"Bend bend bend but not a break. Yet. My bones are brittle nowadays, but my back still performs backbends and my hips still stretch to a split. My hands are still thinner than I know what to do with, but the scar on my pointer stays in place. I painted my nails. I shoved them down my throat. I did my laundry. I languished in a fresh bed with smeared makeup. I cleaned the bathroom, and now I’m doing my best to keep the statement simple. I. cleaned. The. bathroom. Nothing more? I hope so.

I have eaten cereal boxes in an hour and I have written essays in the same amount. I am a stranger in a city of sterile columns and I am a friend in a city of curiosity. I see art in the world and my breathing stops for a minute while my mind catches up. I resume with vigor and I resume with love. 

If life is a sludge of bad moods and bad bass transitions and untasting mouths and untouched bodies, life must also be jazz room joy and new albums and new foods and lined eyes. I am a ball of flesh but I stay rolling. If there is a slope to hell I must feel the rushing wind as I slide down."

[massivetragedyblizzard]

reflecting but gamers its been sad

3/8/2025

the memory of being so young and so fucked up will never get out from you. not from your mind but from the way that you act about work and school and friends and everything. you get out and you feel like a rabbit with their foot still in the trap, a mile away hopping three legged, alive but lesser. you have the cred - the one that got out, the one coming home to a burrow, but you will never walk the same. for years after, every choice feels like a knife in a robbers hand in an alley - you dont know if they have it, but you cant act like they dont or you could end up bleeding out in the backstreets. for years, you will not trust a good day, always remembering the last relapse, the foods that had you bent over a toilet, the nights you woke up starving, the days you spent in a haze of depression, daydreaming about death before school before dance before art before friends before sleep before brushing your teeth before moving your covers to get out of bed. for years you will feel haunted, remembering your past better than it was, reading journal entries and seeing how profoundly miserable it feels like you have always been. you will see pictures of a young you and see her as a different girl. a different child. a different soul in a different body, a body that never went through high school and being sexless for two years and being cold in what were supposed to be the best of times and being winded at your hobbies and being on your bedroom floor sobbing and crying at your father when your hiccups drew him to your door, being on the curb of a suburb at 10 pm, stopped by a kind father who saw you when driving by and knows nothing but that your eyes were yearning for death and he needs you to go home, and being on a bridge over familiar rivers watching your hometown pass, thinking of all the reasons you need to live so that you dont just hop over.

[massivetragedyblizzard]

current wip

You must think I'm higher up than I am: in some ways you might be right. I said might. Thats not a point for you. Im advancing my right to tell you to shut up.

From here I can see you up on that mountain, greek columns and an empty pedestal, kneeled and mumbling something. Your voice drowned by the sound of dirt falling - mostly through my hands: I'm digging my way out of this pit, digging myself into it with the same movements.

From here I can see you down there, body poised like the modern thinker - Every thought visibly lights you up - macho ideas and ego fueling your behavior in predictable patterns. I know I sound egotistical now, but you need to know how you look when you do that shit. At this distance I know I wont be getting hit, so don't worry about sending a flare.

[massivetragedyblizzard]

yesterday i was on an elevator with my mom and dad and got stuck cus we had watched sinners the night before and my dad and I tried to execute an irish jig while descending from the 19th floor... we had to call the reception via elevator button and got firefighters called to bail us out. cue my dad pressing all buttons, my exasperated mom, me diffusing tension by talking my head off: ending with the doors opening to a crew of fighters, us mid-laugh... we are the most unserious ppl wtf

[massivetragedyblizzard]

5/6/2025

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That's how it goes when you come from a line of lunatics both ways. No turn on red here. Just a catholic guilt complex and manipulators agogo.

But hey.

You see dead people and I see myself dead. Comme ci comme ca, right? Both fucking insane.

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Sore on my arm, piercing gone: just my watch, earrings, eyeliner, and an opal necklace. Fuck you I'm ready.

I'll take the bus and listen to music. It's nothing but 3 hours to live through.

[massivetragedyblizzard]

7/7/2025

Its modern jesus: a psych ward hallway, a small girl in platforms with frizzy hair, 5-6 apostles holding her hands and feet. It's dark and she's crying. She's sobbing, really, sounding like she has a razor in her throat.