"sometimes, I Thought My Father Was A God. I Loved Him That Much."

love is the point (wip)

Tara thought she had kicked her habit of being easy to blush somewhere along the line of surviving the dead walking and trying to tear her throat out. But apparently not, because her face was warm as she hastily tugged Noah away, “We don’t even know that she likes girls, I mean she and Abraham are, you know, them.”  

They were far enough away that she didn’t have to worry about Rosita overhearing them, so she didn’t tackle Noah as he scoffed, “Please, she’s totally been staring at you, and Sasha, and maybe Maggie but I’m not totally sure about that one.” 

Tara fought the urge to snap back around and stare at Rosita as if she’d see a flashing bisexual flag above her head, or just a rainbow, rainbows were very nice. But she did not, because she was a survivor, because the world was ending and she was so much more mature than that. “You’re an idiot, Noah.” 

Hehehe what if the world has always been ending and by that I mean mortality constantly looms over our shoulders and what if it wasn’t actually the end it just gave life meaning?? Hehe what if

“Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed.”

i love Spotify playlists with everything I have

addy would breathe in and out and it wouldn't hurt ..

"B-but Palestinians can get their freedom with peace not violence 🥺🥺" no. Screw your feelings. The armed resistance against colonizers and murderers is what will give Palestinians their freedom and what will eventually achieve real peace.

An enemy that bombs and uses white phosphorus against civilians doesn't know nor practice what your broken moral compass describes as "peace". Freedom was proven throughout history not to be achieved through kneeling and asking the oppressor to kindly stop. Freedom needs to be taken by force. Your little Utopian way of thinking doesn't work in the real world. Your feelings don't matter because you're not the one living under occupation. Your feelings don't matter because you're not one of the thousands of children who lost their limbs. You're not one of the children who became orphans due to this genocide. You're not the mother who lost her child to the carpet bombing. You're not the father carrying the remains of your child in plastic bags. You're not the newlywed woman who lost her husband. You're not the one at risk of either getting killed any second or losing your loved ones in the blink of an eye!

"Peace" is not really a thing you see during a live ethnic cleansing!

on tragedy, fate, and inevitability.

oresteia, robert icke // theatre of the oppressed, augusto boal // song of achilles, madeline miller // the book thief, markus zusak // antigone, jean anouilh // revisiting mockingjay ahead of the hunger games prequel, entertainment weekly // romeo and juliet, shakespeare // h of h playbook, anne carson // war of the foxes, richard siken // the road to hell (reprise), hadestown // planet of love, richard siken // they both die at the end, adam silvera

@aimseytv

My Aimsey and Guqqie art that I started a while ago, forgot about and finished! Fitting for pride month 🏳️‍🌈 (also don’t look too closely at the eyes, I suck at drawing them)

Please stick to ONE TASK, brain!!

🧠: No. :)

Gen Z

Born in the shadow

Of 9/11

Birth certificates

Make a spectacle

Of how gullible we are

.

The news channel

Like a lullaby

Our parents watch

Not wanting to wake us

We go to sleep knowing

That the monsters

Were never under our bed

.

And despite what we go through

Despite how many horrors

We are witness to

A gag is on our mouth

Told we are

Too young

Too stupid

Too naive

And we are

.

I am

Too young

To be scared of going to school

And watching the life pour out of my friends

Because skin isn’t impenetrable like titanium

Ricocheting bullets embed themselves in soft skin

And now I’ll never be able to say

“I’m sorry” for that dumb fight during lunch

Bulletproof backpacks

Were never in the school wish list

Look around the class

Who are you willing to die for?

Are you strong enough to comfort their mom?

She’ll be crying on your shoulder

As you tell stories

How everybody copied off their homework

Because they were the smartest

Or how they never failed to make the class burst in laughter

Explaining the inside jokes that died with them

In a pool of their own blood

Right by your desk

.

I am

Too young

To find my friend’s body

Slumped over

On the bathroom floor

Candy coloured pills stuffed down their throats

Dothiepin, Amitriptyline and Imipramine

Or maybe crimson blood pouring down their wrists

Because we never questioned

If they were hot with a sweater during summer

Too late to help battle whatever demons they were facing

Too late to be the knight in shining armour they needed

And a note lays in their hand

Apologizing for what they did

When you know the person that should’ve apologized

Was you

Because maybe

If you had listened more

If you had asked the right questions

If you had done this or that

It doesn’t matter

Cause when suicide

Is the 2nd leading cause

Of death in youth

What’s the point

Trying to be the superhero with the red cape

When you might be the one at the noose?

.

I am

Too young

To see familiar faces on the news

Afraid to see my friends body

Drape over a white sheet

As if that covers up the horrors

“Don’t shoot!”

Shouldn’t be

Someone’s last words

He looked older in the dark

He only fired in self-defense

Blue lives or black lives?

Which ones matter most?

You might call me obnoxious

Because i don’t submit to your ideals

But let me ask you this

When did people go to an academy

For their skin?

When were people given uniforms

For their skin?

When were people given guns

For their skin?

They just wanted to go home

To their families

That’s what we all want

But only one of us will go home

The other laying on the concrete

Covered in a white sheet

Like cheap Halloween decoration

The blood seeping through

Scratchy white fabric

.

I am

Too young

To be sent out of class

Because my skirt was too short

“The boys will be distracted”

They said

But I look around the room

They’re doing their work

They’re focused

So why are you not?

Why are you looking at my legs?

I’m walking down the street

A man old enough to be my dad

Is looking at me, staring

Like a lion watches his prey

Looking for a moment to strike

A cobra swaying from side to side

If I’m not careful

His poison will flow through my veins

I can feel his eyes on me

As if I somehow share his sins

They are crawling on my back

So maybe I should’ve put on that jacket

Maybe I should’ve worn pants instead

But it was a nice day

And I had just ironed my skirt

And maybe I should’ve asked someone

To come get the mail with me

Because now if something happens

It’s my fault

.

I am

Too young

To be crying at my friend’s funeral

Because no matter

How many times

I told them to stop

They wouldn’t

A loopy wonderland

And meaningless smiles

Were too much

Of a temptation

Against a brutal reality

Of a cold and desaturated planet

Shouts still ringing

In their ears

And last week

Their mom found their body

Overdosed in the bathtub

Eyes still wide

Staring

Pupils dilated

And now

My last memory of them will be

Silky smoke in my face

Burning claws in my lungs

While I’m still sitting on the couch

Drinking Diet Coke

Because I “don’t know how to live”

But apparently

Neither do they

.

I grew up in a world

Where violence is common

A bullet flies by

But I don’t notice

Desensitized and numb

.

And now that I have a voice

That you’ve never heard before

You will try to silence me

But can you really blame me

For my shouts?

I was born with information

At my fingertips

Connected

To every news source in the world

And you expect me

To stay at the kid’s table

During dinner?

Because the adults are talking?

.

But you have brought me onto this earth

Where the expectation

Was to watch the world burn

And you don’t care

Because you’ll die

Before you see the sun explode

But I will remain

We will remain

To see our flesh melt off

You brought us here

In the middle of a battle

And you have failed miserably

The battles you won

Will be meaningless

Against the war that we will win

.

We will rise from the ashes

Of what you have already burned down

i saw the tv glow is like. your childhood queer best friend got out of your town and got to live their better life as themself. your queer friend got out of your town and killed themselves because their delusions won them over. no matter your interpretation, you never see them again.

Martyr and Icarus, a story.

Icarus, another young mortal full of hopes and fears calls hesitantly, Icarus, tell me a thing, please. This human, so flawed and such a helpless dreamer, has bright eyes that can shame gods and a smile so sharp and beautiful that stars don’t shine at all; an impossible love breathes within bones and flesh, like fire.

Was love worth the fall, Icarus? Please, tell me it was, I hope it was, this mortal, youth that is heroic and shattered and slightly afraid, pleads to the sky, pleads to the sea. Hope is almost as dreadful and tricky as freedom, love is even worse.

Oh, Icarus, I think I want to love something divine so hard, I think I want to kiss something divine so much, this young mortal sighs and blinks with tears like shards of glass and blood alike liquid gold. A boy with wings made of wax and flesh as soft as a rose petal cries, for fate is unfair, fate is always so unfair.

Run away from your monster of a lover: they’re going to eat you alive soon, and this night isn’t a night for tragedies, Icarus whispers softly all the things he wishes he’d known.