A Poetic Mindset

is way fucking harder than a lot of people realise.

So you have this story in your head right? And that’s the problem, it’s stuck in your head. You have to try and get it out.

So it comes piling out onto pages or into a document on a word processor and you’re relieved. Then you read it, and…it’s crap. Garbage. Bollocks. Absolutely fucking awful, and you’re disappointed because you know that this is a good story. That has nothing to do with ego, you just know it’s worth hearing; that there are voices that need to be heard in the world outside of your brain.

So you try and rewrite it, but the words don’t come, because none of them are good enough. These characters are now real, and you desperately want to do right by them. But you want to do right by your readers and not control everything because you hate it when authors do that to you.

So you sit there, that stupid little flicking cursor being mean to you and instead you talk to one of your best friends on AIM about cats, because cats are always amazing and can nearly always be described as “fucking awesome.”

I know I've started blogs before, but this one is actually going to be decent. And permanent.

Palettes and Poetry

Content due soon.

Well, alongside Dulce Et Decorum Est.

Away and See

Away and see an ocean suck at a boiled sun
and say to someone things I'd blush even to dream
Slip off your dress in a high room over the harbour.
Write to me soon.

New fruits sing on the flipside of night in a market
of language, light, a tune from the chapel nearby
stopping you dead, the peach in your palm respiring.
Taste it for me.

Away and see the things that words give a name to, the flight
of syllables, wingspan stretching a noun. Test words
wherever they live; listen and touch, smell, believe.
Spell them with love.

Skedaddle. Somebody chaps at the door at a year's end,
hopeful.
Away and see who it is. Let in the new, the vivid,
horror and pity, passion, the stranger holding the future.
Ask him his name.

Nothing's the same as anything else. Away and see
for yourself. Walk. Fly. Take a boat til land reappears,
altered forever, ringing its bells, alive. Go on. G'on. Gon.
Away and see.

- Carol Ann Duffy

YOU GUYS, I AM, SO EXCITED.

it's nearly 3am and I can't sleep.
Since I came back I've had about 10 hours sleep. Since Sunday morning.

Does anyone know any good sleeping medication? Over-the-counter?

I am so bummed about about Bob leaving Chem :(

That is all.

We stopped and stood together
Under the sky,
Which reddened towards darkness
With towering teeth
Biting towards the falling sun.
We spoke of how
We fell as drifting
Falling leaves that clung to summer
And how the park ached
With the oncoming autumn.
We held hands and watched
As the birds circled overhead
We said nothing then
Just waited there
For the summer to end.

THANKYOU FOR POSTING THIS, st_xjimmy

I CANNOT STOP SQUEEING <3