Sunshine-units - Sunshine Units

another cool bug on this site is when youre on mobile and suddenly the ads will just move and cover the post youre reading

please enjoy this "vintage movie poster" I saw in a dream which was so funny to my subconscious that I immediately woke myself up to write it down for later

“1. “…and your mother said ‘Happy birthday. I am sorry to inform you that everyone you love is dead’” Explain, with reference to Sylvia Plath’s first suicide attempt and subsequent admittance to hospital, the relevance of the quote above to your childhood, when, upon seeing the brilliant blue of a butterfly’s wings—(10 marks) 2. Should a poet’s work be enjambed or read in sequence? Examinees are encouraged to utilise essay structure and one reference to Walt Whitman in their answer.(5 marks) 3. There’s stardust in our eyes and laughter on our lips, Over and over again the orchestra plays our last dance: Amor, amor, amor—(10 marks) 4. They saw that post you made last night, when you thought they had gone to sleep and you could let the hurt bleed. Give up. It’s over. You’re over. A person who has feelings is a ruined person unless they keep their mouth shut - which is exactly what you didn’t do. (5 marks) 5. I hold stars for the gods, their flashing eyes are nebulae, colours blooming against the universe; their council is the companion of beauty and destruction. The moirai, with their pale fingers, trace my body, as cold and unfeeling as porcelain, each brush a calculation and every new line a fate thrown into existence. They cut my golden hairs one by one; there is no string of fate, destinies are written in my stars— (10 marks) 6. “You trace my scars like you could brush them away and wipe the blood from my mouth as if it would remove the wounds on my lips.” Discuss this statement, with evidence cited from the decline of the relationship between Lucien Carr, Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg to support your conclusion. (5 marks) 7. “Now the sky is still heartbreakingly blue. It’s a blue that lovers kiss under, in the cooling summer air, the kind that drags itself across the skin of my body and leaves a trail of goose bumps to hint at its existence. It’s so quiet I can hear the radio playing somewhere. It’s singing about people, and about feelings… feelings about people. It’s warbling words of love and murdering us with words edged like an axe. It’s crooning the song of death.” Do you agree? (20 marks) 8.Cassandra was gone long before her death, murmuring words, and words, and words; and her mind falling as Apollo watched her beauty heighten in her madness, and the truth will always be madness, but when she died with screams on her lips, she could not help but be satisfied with her choice, though it may never have been hers, because she cannot be her own person any more than you can stand to keep away from blades, do you understand please do you understand—(10 marks) 9. Is opinion a requirement for literature? Are you? (15 marks) 10. If, at 5 A.M. on a Monday morning I still haven’t slept and countless cups of coffee have cooled in my hands, but I’m still reaching for your number in my phone even after you told me “never again”: (i) Explain why the French Revolution was an amalgamation of poor leadership, economic troubles and enlightened thinking, making sure to provide sufficient illustration of the dramatic irony and use of paradox used by the authors of the nightmare you had two hours ago every night but never wake from. (ii) Draw the colour of your soul. (10 marks) — BONUS QUESTIONS: Shouldn’t you have learnt by now? (25 marks) Death won’t get an A on your exam. (25 marks) If I don’t exist, how do I know about me? (25 marks)Please? (25 marks) — All working must be demonstrated. All questions must be answered. Illegibility will be penalised.”

— standard exam, E.C.

having feelings for a guy is crazy im up at 12 am felting him a flock of sheep bc he mentioned that he likes sheep one (1) time

@audiohno

send this to your ex with no context

(x)

an accident by erin m. riley, 2020, wool & cotton, 82 × 100 inches

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On Sunday, a lambent crevice opened up in the street outside my house. By Tuesday, birds were flying into it.

“I probably won’t miss you,” my mother said. “I’m only interested in the end of the world,” I replied.

Many find it difficult to breathe without the atmosphere, but we knew how; we just stopped breathing.

We’re at the Moonlight All-Night Diner, and they’re serving up fruit from the plants growing out of the waitress. The closed sign whispers, “Please, don’t touch me.”

We watch bodies fall to the ground outside like deep sea creatures surfacing. You turn to me and ask, “Do you ever think about suicide?” I look away from you and close my eyes, eat the raspberries to confuse the blood in my mouth.

Now you’re in the only car in the parking lot at midnight and you’re watching me throw stones at the moon which hangs low in the sky so that he can look into your house. Your sister tried to touch him from her window once, and he flinched.

Now he and the oceans watch her with a quiet concern. The lilac sky is trying to rest her head on his shoulder, all trees gradually growing through her.

A hummingbird whispers to you, “Be careful. Under her dress is her skin,” and then builds his nest in the middle of the highway.

I look back to you, and you close your eyes

-Katherine Ciel

Welcome to Night Vale Episode 20 - "Poetry Week"