Listening To Suzanne By Leonard Cohen Repeatedly And I Am Sick I Am SICK, She Feeds You Tea And Oranges

And just like that, and now I am

Unsettled in my life again

The bubble burst, the joy all spent

Alone surrounded by my friends

They love me but can’t understand

There’s nothing more that I could ask

What is this discontented grief?

I feel incurably unwell

Though none externally has changed

Boat capsized at the smallest shift

My heart a songbird in a cage

It’s wailing, howling, and for what?

For all I ever dreamed is here

Perhaps I let my dreams decline

The bird remembers it could fly

And dreamed of more than comforts then

Yet still I think I’ve made a life

Worth living and rejoicing in

And my malaise in paradise

Just proves the problem wasn’t there

It’s in my head, its me, its me.

Actually I am going to love as hard and as fully as I can knowing it will crash and burn and disappear because what loss is worse??? The person or the possibilities??? No pain is as great as I should have, and so I will cry over happy memories instead of wasted ones. Good night, love recklessly everyone

It is father’s day in this foreign country, and I miss my dead father, and I didn’t intend to bring him up at all, but my host mother of all things mentioned that anne hathaway is jewish because she was on the news, (I can’t understand well enough what they’re saying on tv so I couldn’t tell you why) and I said that I’m jewish, and that my grandfather came from Russia, and she asked if it was my mother or father’s father and I of course said my father’s and she said not your stepfather who lives with you right? It’s your father who doesn’t live with you anymore? Which in retrospect is a bit intrusive, and I was like yeah and she said, does he still live in America? and I just said, because I don’t know any euphemisms or nicer ways to say it in their language, he’s dead. And I feel glad to have spoken of him aloud today, to have remembered him, but I made things uncomfortable and awkward and I could have avoided it, and I feel a little shame, but I haven’t done anything shameful, so I am writing this out in my own language to process it. Thanks for listening void :/

I can’t believe Russell T. Davies just invented camp

July <3

Lola Ridge // Zhukovsky Stanislav // Charlotte Eriksson // my photo // Rick Bass // @burningmine // Allie Ray // @geopsych // @thepoetryofascension

Curse of crush on unattainable boy

Listen guys I love the raven cycle I am such a fan I have spent many hours reading and contemplating this book and being in love with every character but I gotta say my favorite quote and the one that sticks out to me the most is. In the dream thieves between Maura and Mr. Gray of all people, when he pulls the 10 of swords and they say, “you’re going to have to be brave” “I’m always brave” “braver than that” I think about those words every gotdan day and they actually motivate me so much anyway all this is to say that today I am going on my first run since freshman year of high school! 6 years! I will report what Emotion I am feeling at the end ✨

lately, when I think of summer, I think of

being sixteen and overgrown backyards with their old fences and rusted latches that were no match for graceless feet and hands.

warm evenings spent on balconies with our backs pressed to brick or iron, old wood and secrets splintering between us.

breathing in chlorine and lilacs under the rustling shade of a maple tree, and wondering how long you’d smell like home.

long drives and old forts and even older rivers, and the way our legs dangled off the edge of the locks, palms pressed to concrete instead of together.

roadside restaurants and souvenir shops and the way we shared sodas and honeysticks, tasting each other the only way we knew how.

the way you said, “this was fun” and “I’m glad we met,” and the way I asked, “will I see you again?” and all you could do was smile.

lately, when I think of summer, I think of you.

tracking mississippi mud along the richelieu river

support me on ko-fi ☕

Per sognare nell’estate

È una volte splendissima,

Il piú dolce, il piú gioiosa, sempre allegra

Voglio dormire sotto il caldo occhio della grande blu

E stare inutile e pacevole al fine del giorno

Trying to stay motivated with my Italian this summer, so I wrote some small verse using only words I already knew. Notably I could neither remember the word for sun nor sky, resulting in the strange little metaphor above. If someone more learned than I notices an error I would be ever so grateful for a correction, even a snotty or disdainful one! Arrivederci, amici, bacci!

Reading the articles of confederation for my con law class and wanted to let you know that paupers, vagabonds, and fugitives from justice are NOT entitled to privileges and immunities of free citizens! Thats such a funny list of exceptions to me,, I want to know the legal definition of a vagabond, we may as well add rascals, menaces, and scallywags to the list at this point. Also paupers? They said no <3 to poor people, what’s new I guess, anyway reblog if you are a pauper, vagabond, and/or fugitive of justice 🫡