May 2013
77 posts
4 tags
May 23rd
Today I sink back
into darkness, into
my straight-sided hole
learning to
not reach out
not speak
not stand up
in your callous crowd.
No questions
no protests
no thoughts
that are not red and wild.
Who wants this mind?
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Tumblr is an unfriendly place sometimes, like reaching out your hand in a crowd and having people look at you strangely and turn their backs. Then you worry for the rest of the day about your actions, and turn further in on yourself, and stop reaching out your hand.
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May 22nd
Things to do on an interstellar flight
.
Fight entropy.
Keep your mind tight,
your hands splayed out.
Count your fingers. Relax.
Watch the stars.
Remember the lives you loved
and how
in an instant
they will age and you will not.
Remember
you will return to age and dust.
Keep your hands tight,
your mind splayed out.
Count the stars.
Watch your fingers as
knuckles become bone and
...
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Having learnt that Chris Pine studied Literature I’m suddenly finding him attractive. Dammit, Jim.
castiel-is-wonderful:
sionainnlindsay:
castiel-is-wonderful:
WAIT HOLD THE FUCK UP
IS ‘MRS’ JUST MR’S
LIKE BELONGING TO MR
OMG
Mr comes from the French monsieur, which I think literally translates as ‘my lord’ and basically just means master, and Mrs comes from maistre which is the feminine form of master, so actually—for once—no.
This was an extremely relevant comment and I thank...
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martytodpete reblogged your post: Today has been foot in mouth day. I resign from…
I’m sorry…I didn’t help at all….;-(
Will you stop that! I didn’t have any bad conversations with you at all yesterday!
Today has been foot in mouth day. I resign from all communication with individuals. Bleugh.
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May 21st
In here I dwindle to a stick,
a spine, tight-locked. Eyes down.
A mind somewhere, hunkered in.
Fingers curled, my shoulders small.
While
you move. You mill.
You are a pack.
All backs and breasts,
your murmur an unholy thing.
A moving sea, a drowning voice.
I am a stone. A creature caught,
a paralytic thing. Only
waves will wash me up.
Your group will spit me out.
Indigestible. Alone.
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“Nurse Chapel is a beloved [Trek] character,” says Orci. “Even before the first...”
– Bob Orci talks to BuzzFeed about fan references in Star Trek Into Darkness. [x]
All I have to say about this is:
(via numbtongue)
#the misogyny is so fucking palpable im going 2 throw up #you had the opportinity to introduce another female character #(having more than 2 is too much for you...
A Mad Tea Party: aconitum-napellus: Sylar, how can... →
didremcdeath:
aconitum-napellus:
Sylar, how can you be such a psychopath but so damn attractive at the same time?
Not to be a smart-ass, but when not using the words ‘psychopath’ and ‘sociopath’ as substitutes for ‘an evil person’ but as they are intended medically, the answer is already captured in…
An intelligent and interesting response on Tumblr is a beautiful thing. Thank you...
5 tags
May 19th
Drop me
into this void.
This ripple-widening silence.
Cold bones, bent, the awkward poise.
Eyes down, hair a curtain
for privacy, protection.
This moment could stretch,
a stilting, empty thing.
You part your lips.
Don’t speak.
Breathe out.
Breathe in again.
Bite your tongue.
Regret. Words.
Don’t speak again.
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It’s Eurovision! Time to get drunk and watch people singing strange, bad songs!
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May 18th
So, you decide to sink,
silt-blessed. Let water wash
your arms, your lungs.
Your breaths are sand,
alveoli caverns for protozoa.
So, in turn, your legs become spars,
your clothes sail-cloth moved by tides.
Your bones will be coral, branched,
picked white, a driftwood not flung up.
So your hair is seaweed, played in,
a forest for fish. Your hands are starfish,
your eyes anemones starting...
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May 17th
The stillness now is this.
A time to lie, proterozoic,
a silt-pressed cell, waiting for
oxygen to gather, waiting
for life to push its redness into rock.
Something will spring itself to life,
dividing, multiplying,
grasping air and breathing in
and laying down the frame for
a fossil future. Later
I will curl, an ammonite,
thankful for the warmth,
and things will come of this
in...
3 tags
how to decode a person with an anxiety disorder
brttaperry:
lundibix:
This is by far one of the most important things I’ve seen on tumblr because It describes things I was not able to
Read More
Oh, hey, this is me. Not that I have panic attacks, thankfully (does the occasional fainting fit count?), but the worrying about everything. Yes, yes, yes.
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May 16th
The dandelions are a Van Gogh night
in day. The air so cold. No sun.
Numbers all that count. Because
today I hate myself.
Today the words don’t stop and
sounds move on.
A flatness and a falling,
shutupshutup a new-made verb.
All the people are cut-outs,
eyes and mouths pasted on,
spy sentinels around my tower.
I am made of stone, with
stone-bound eyes. I watch
and turn away
and rest...
Dear Tumblr,
please stop showing me how many followers I have. I don’t want it to be a popularity contest. I don’t want it to be a numbers game. I just want to express the things I like without constantly feeling judged by how many eyes are on me.
1 tag
iggypoptarts replied to your post: May 15th
I’ve given up on the poetry for now…this is good though
It gets wearing, doesn’t it? And thank you :-) Took Alex for a routine check up for his hernia/testicle. He’s fine - but he suddenly seemed to recognise the hospital and got all scared and clingy, poor thing.
7 tags
May 15th
Today you were an octopus,
your arms around me, suckered on.
Your mind a complex thing.
I wonder
how you would find your way
through holes, from dreadful spaces,
how you would escape.
I wonder
how deep your memory goes,
how intricate are those
folds, those sparks,
neurons kissing neurons.
All your experience
folded in your mind,
a private world.
Your arms around my neck,
an...
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May 14th
How I bore you.
How each word inflates
and hangs
and dissipates with Brownian motion
until
each syllable is wrapped
about a molecule of air.
How my sound becomes
snow, flaked, heavy,
a crystal concretion
and drops.
My words are a rainfall,
and you are drenched.
And I hang my head,
ego crumpling beneath
the weight of words
and sound hanging
in the air
between us
in every breath.
6 tags
May 13th
We sit, sucked into darkness,
into the soft shroud. Inside
there is no other life. All muted.
Lips closed, hands locked. Eyes
forward, wide.
Our pupils are gaping holes,
air-lock doors, waiting to learn.
Skin and bones become ears,
sound an illusion, a rumble,
a hum and scream. Enveloped,
we open our minds to
red blue yellow white wide eyes
wide arms fabric leaf fire ash.
We have...
REBLOG IF YOU ARE A BIG CHOCOLATE SLUT
teroknortailor:
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New Star Trek film is awesome. End of.
Well, not really end of. I mean, I could pick holes in bits of it. But it was still awesome.
(For some reason I tagged this ‘Star Trek Into Jeeves’. If I said I knew why, I would be lying. But Star Trek with Jeeves would be awesome too.)
