Not every story is about seeing yourself in it. Sometimes it’s about learning to see other people too.

I just wanna grab Eddie sometimes and go:

"All my other couches came with girlfriends" OKAY SO TELL ME HOW THIS IS DIFFERENT EVAN? WHAT DID WE LEARN?? I'M ALL FUCKING EARS

While reading Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein it reminded me of something I used to ponder on excessively when I was younger. As humans we are incredibly diverse and complex and are continuously learning as we live; children are born no choice of their own and are sort of dumped in this bowl of knowledge and the knowledge consumed is different from child to child, but some similarities remain—one of these being that the world is not a fair place. Now you may be asking how does this relate to Frankenstein; frankensteins’s monster at the point of animation can be seen as a child or a new developed sentient consciousness— either way the “monster” is dropped into the world and just like the rest of us begins learning of the world he finds himself in as well as as his place in it. Now as obvious from the story the “monster” learns that he is not only different from everyone else but he is not welcome either, this is attributed to his appearance as well as how he came to be. He in no shape or form is seen as human or as part of the collective—he is othered and more specifically seen as inhumane. When I was younger a I learned a lot about the world and for some reason I was obsessed with global tragedies, man made tragedies. From the partition to slavery to apartheid to the holocaust and both world wars; after learning about all this my outlook on the world changed from “there is more good than bad” which most children think to “maybe humans are inherently evil”. When ever something is morally wrong we tend to say its inhumane as to distance ourselves from the bad, as if to put ourselves as a pure and moral race like that is our default. I guess what I’m saying or asking rather is do we as humans with all we’ve done, with all we are, have the right to call something inhumane, to name something “monster”?

Iman Vellani after seeing the reference to Earth 199999 :

I get really sad when I think about my childhood, the thing is I don’t really know what pains me more; the fact that I wasn’t happy or the fact that I could’ve been

Men are such predictable things, driven by fear…in the end all they respect is violence

-Sophie longerbane, carnival row

“I’m not a poet, I’m a lover of poetry…just because you love something doesn’t mean it’s for you”

Excerpt from my current wip

My mother accused me of hating her

I don’t say anything in fear I might say the wrong thing…no in fear I might tell her some truths—I mean really how does one respond to that. It was not phrased as a question nor was it said with surprise; I think to deny it, tell her she’s wrong that it’s all in her head but what effect would I have on these words carved in the stone walls in her mind; “YOU. HATE. ME” she spits like it is a fact—I think to tell her that my hate only exists as greatly as my love but I hold my tongue, cause telling her this will only give her satisfaction. That she is right, that I DO HATE HER; It doesn’t matter now anyway, for she did not bring this matter to me tonight, nor yesterday night, nor the night before that; In truth this was so long ago that only the memory of the emotions I felt in that moment remains

You hate me my mother says and I say…nothing

“The fact that I exist never settles right with me;

I fear it never will”

the feminine urge to become fluent in every language on earth so I can read literature in poetry in their native tongues to get the full effect

“I’m not telling you to make the world better, because I don’t think that progress is necessarily part of the package. I’m just telling you to live in it. Not just to endure it, not just to suffer it, not just to pass through it, but to live in it. To look at it. To try to get the picture. To live recklessly. To take chances. To make your own work and take pride in it. To seize the moment. And if you ask me why you should bother to do that, I could tell you that the grave’s a fine and private place, but none I think do there embrace. Nor do they sing there, or write, or argue, or see the tidal bore on the Amazon, or touch their children. And that’s what there is to do and get it while you can and good luck at it.”

— Joan Didion, Commencement Address at UC Riverside (1975)

Homicide, suicide…which shall I commit first

There is so much pain, and hate, and tragedy in the world and I don’t understand how people ignore it or simply can’t see it at all.

I don’t know what to do with everything I’ve learned; I wish desperately to unsee it all but I can’t

Fighting the urge to tell my father “death comes for us all” every time he comments on my weight and eating habits

come and get your badges everyone, today’s the day!

i am starting a collection