The only night I remember is the dinner of neighbors at which a man I never had met before said I don’t fear dying— look at the past, people have been dying forever, and— then he stopped and shook his head— I drank too much. I was almost saying that people have died forever and all of them survived, but of course—he made a hard laugh—God, of course they didn’t survive.
Mar 21, 2024

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by Audre Lorde: And when the sun rises we are afraid it might not remain when the sun sets we are afraid it might not rise in the morning when our stomachs are full we are afraid of indigestion when our stomachs are empty we are afraid we may never eat again when we are loved we are afraid love will vanish when we are alone we are afraid love will never return and when we speak we are afraid our words will not be heard nor welcomed but when we are silent we are still afraid   So it is better to speak remembering we were never meant to survive.
Aug 28, 2024
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Ocean, don’t be afraid.  The end of the road is so far ahead  it is already behind us.  Don’t worry. Your father is only your father  until one of you forgets. Like how the spine  won’t remember its wings  no matter how many times our knees  kiss the pavement. Ocean,  are you listening? The most beautiful part  of your body is wherever  your mother’s shadow falls.  Here’s the house with childhood  whittled down to a single red tripwire.  Don’t worry. Just call it horizon & you’ll never reach it.  Here’s today. Jump. I promise it’s not  a lifeboat. Here’s the man  whose arms are wide enough to gather  your leaving. & here the moment,  just after the lights go out, when you can still see  the faint torch between his legs.  How you use it again & again  to find your own hands.  You asked for a second chance  & are given a mouth to empty into.  Don’t be afraid, the gunfire  is only the sound of people  trying to live a little longer. Ocean. Ocean,  get up. The most beautiful part of your body  is where it’s headed. & remember,  loneliness is still time spent  with the world. Here’s  the room with everyone in it.  Your dead friends passing  through you like wind  through a wind chime. Here’s a desk  with the gimp leg & a brick  to make it last. Yes, here’s a room  so warm & blood-close,  I swear, you will wake—  & mistake these walls  for skin.
Jul 1, 2024
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ok last one: They are always with us, the thin people Meager of dimension as the gray people On a movie-screen.  They Are unreal, we say: It was only in a movie, it was only In a war making evil headlines when we Were small that they famished and Grew so lean and would not round Out their stalky limbs again though peace Plumped the bellies of the mice Under the meanest table. It was during the long hunger-battle They found their talent to persevere In thinness, to come, later, Into our bad dreams, their menace Not guns, not abuses, But a thin silence. Wrapped in flea-ridded donkey skins, Empty of complaint, forever Drinking vinegar from tin cups: they wore The insufferable nimbus of the lot-drawn Scapegoat.  But so thin, So weedy a race could not remain in dreams, Could not remain outlandish victims In the contracted country of the head Any more than the old woman in her mud hut could Keep from cutting fat meat Out of the side of the generous moon when it Set foot nightly in her yard Until her knife had pared The moon to a rind of little light. Now the thin people do not obliterate Themselves as the dawn Grayness blues, reddens, and the outline Of the world comes clear and fills with color. They persist in the sunlit room: the wallpaper Frieze of cabbage-roses and cornflowers pales Under their thin-lipped smiles, Their withering kingship. How they prop each other up! We own no wilderness rich and deep enough For stronghold against their stiff Battalions.  See, how the tree boles flatten And lose their good browns If the thin people simply stand in the forest, Making the world go thin as a wasp's nest And grayer; not even moving their bones.
Jul 1, 2024

Top Recs from @catgirl505

having older friends who can share their wisdom and life experiences and older-person quirks is so fun and wholesome
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genuinely believe journaling has saved my mental health but doing it in public alone is such a better alternative to going on your phone and also if you have a pretty notebook it's a great conversation starter
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if you expect everything you make to be a masterpiece you’ll never get started on anything….let yourself make “bad” stuff in order to get to the “good” stuff
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