#Written By
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[Text id: I will even make a hole in my heart for you to hold. Do not ask of me, anything more than that]
#poems and poetry#quotes#dark literature#lit#fyodor dostoevsky#spilled ink#charles bukowski#poets on tumblr#bones and all#literature#self loathing#words#dostoevksy#core#dark aesthetic#love and deepspace#spilled words#written by#fiodor dostoievski#the tortured poets department
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She’s the NSAI Songwriter-Artist of the Decade, she’s on a billboard, and she has a new Spotify playlist. ✨ Stream Taylor’s songwriting essentials in her new “Written By” playlist! 🎶
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jaz sinclair behind the scenes of “written by” via ig 🩷
#gen v cast#cast#written by#jaz sinclair#p: instagram#u#i linked the short film! only 15 mins would recommend 🥰#might make stills of jaz later but it’s been a long day
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youtube
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Vida girlies (créditos a todos los autores cuyas imágenes sean de su propiedad)
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System Culture is having a tiny make best friends with someone over frogs
#plural culture is#osddid#plural culture#system culture#system#sysblr#system culture is#system stuff#osdd system#actually traumagenic#written by#🌻#but the tiny is#🐸
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youtube
💖🫰🏻
be my wife?🫠
#dreamcatcher#dami#once upon a time#solo#kpop icons#kpop#kpop rapper#written by#composed by#talent#kpop idol#youtube#wifey material
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#They Love Me#They Love Me Remix#Lio Rush#A.J. Francis#Chris Bey#Man Like Dereiss#real1#SHOTTY HORROH#Wrestle and Flow#Written by#Alesha Green#Lionel Green#Wrestlers#Rappers#No Time To Heal (Album)#2023#Rap#Hip Hop#Spotify
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between the cracks
As a kid, I used to dream of flying.
My gods were mundanity, wonder, and loneliness. My prayer came as a warble in my mind, some coiled frailty in my chest, pulling me along. I balanced between this faith born of hope, of childlike certainty, and this secret awfulness. I wished on every star, begged a god that would not listen, and tried to find my way to faery through gaps in the brush. Escape came just as easily as idle worship. And I tried to bury my gods just as surely as I ran from the dark. What child isn’t afraid of the monsters they can’t see, while baring their necks to those stood plainly in the light?
I dreamt about weightlessness, about formlessness. I dreamt I could be as insubstantial as a breeze, faster than light. I lamented the heaviness of flesh and bone, my internment in a world that stood so solidly ‘round me. I stared through every desperate imagining and saw only my own eyes looking back at me.
If only I could fly away. If only, if only, if only.
Despite every bit of study, every ounce of intelligence, I didn’t know how to get free.
Not of a human body, not of childhood, not of individuals with hooks like claws sunk so deep I hardly ever thought they might come out. My mind was a grave, the dark earth tucking me in, walling me off. Chaining me to the ground, while my eyes roved hungrily over a midnight sky. I wasted, there, inside, myself and echoes for company.
Dreaming still, but quietly—so unsure, every second a stutter.
I got used to static, to numbness, anticipated the blank nothing.
Dreamless existence, sleep choked with nightmares.
Reality bent under the weight of my terror.
Fear swept in and out, this tide I had no name for—and no words to describe. I remembered only what was necessary for my survival, and dreamed about time like a lover—as if maybe, one day, I might learn every inch of her skin with my mouth. As if time were a taste I wanted to know with as much intimacy as blood. Daring only to dream of dreaming, taking nothing, asking only what was necessary.
Don’t ghosts fly? I wondered. Maybe if I really was nothing at all, nothing in particular, I could be free. I could go. There would be some release from the constant weight. The immovable object pinning my limbs and leaving my body exposed. My skin writhed with phantom agony, scar-tissue shining and silvery. Bleached white, but never erased. Ever-present.
How do I get out of here…?
Please.
Let me go.
I can’t anymore.
Who could ever withstand this much.
I need to find some way out.
Get out.
Leave.
GET OUT.
Bend reality far enough, and it
b
r
e
a
k
s
What’s a mind if all it can muster is the shattered pieces of a child that grew like weeds, scattered by a hurricane, by scavengers and opportunists? What’s a body that goes on only because it doesn’t know how to stop, a dream that swirls ‘round and ‘round, approaching the drain like an addict flirting with the edge? What is a wish that cannot come true?
What is forgetting your own name over and over and over again?
What is going unheard, yelling into a void choked with broken things?
What do you do, when you reach the end of your own capabilities?
I
sat
down.
And waited.
I collected my breath, and every whispered fragment that made it as far as I had.
I took one breath, then stood, and took a step.
I didn’t fight, anymore. Looked up from my path only to glimpse a sky made of blackness, interrupted only by gold veins—this glow like the stuff of pure memory. Made of nothing but the nameless dreamstuff, a whole mind’s eye of light.
I taught myself each new thing, each step, each hurdle—returned knowledge where I could, but left many areas dark and unlit.
Precautionary darkness.
Failsafe pockets, where I might bury myself again.
I didn’t dream of flying again. I dreamt of food, of water. I dreamt of rest without interruption, and silence that didn’t bite. I dreamt of lungs and hearts, of flesh and blood and cells. I dreamt of steady hands, and scrubbing the blood out from under my nails.
I took my time where I could, chest heaving.
Straining to continue—always with an undercurrent of weariness.
But time came to me like a dog, forgiveness settled gently ‘tween its teeth.
And together we went.
One foot in front of the other, that light filtering down through the darkness to brush the crown of my head only. A chaste kiss from hope and memory. A solemn promise.
#personal essay#did#queer writers#writeblr#kind of a poem#written by#txt. 🦝#posted by#txt.🖤#series: complex haunts#tw abuse
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Can we talk about this?!
All the season references!!
The JUMP!!
HOW HAVE I NOT SEEN THIS BEFORE?!
#david tennant#doctor who#catherine tate#john barrowman#written by#Jennie Fava#Donna Noble#How have I not seen this before?#All the references!#Russell T Davies#era#the tenth doctor#the 10th doctor#captain jack harkness
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i think i know which one but i wanna see what y’all say
#dick grayson#dick grayson dc#richard grayson dc#richard grayson#nightwing#dc nightwing#taylor swift#Dick Grayson Taylor’s version#lana del rey coded#taylor swift coded#phoebe bridgers coded#lana deal rey#phoebe bridgers#written by
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she commit acts of intercourse on my erogeneous zones until i achieve sexual climax
#pattern recognition has transitioned from a reliable ally into a dangerous enemy#alternatively: memes that were written by data from star trek
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You guys rlly don't realise how much knowledge is still not committed to the internet. I find books all the time with stuff that is impossible to find through a search engine- most people do not put their magnum opus research online for free and the more niche a skill is the less likely you are to have people who will leak those books online. (Nevermind all the books written prior to the internet that have knowledge that is not considered "relevant" enough to digitise).
Whenever people say that we r growing up with all the world's knowledge at our fingertips...it's not necessarily true. Is the amount of knowledge online potentially infinite? Yes. Is it all knowledge? No. You will be surprised at the niche things you can discover at a local archive or library.
#rambles#if you are a person who is into delicate skills#like lacemaking or printing or sewing#you will know fair well just how non expansive the knowledge online is in comparison to written guides from like the 50s#there was a time where at least one person in the household had to know a constructive skill#but in the modern day there is just less ans less demands for comprehensive guides#library propaganda#im stuck doing an essay rn but bc i have covid i cant go to the library and its totally fucked me#i want to source a lot of the stuff i read irl but i just cant go and get it and theres no online ver
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Keep seeing that post where OP starts like 'Thinking about...grieving the undead' and then adds on about like. Real life situations where people have not died but have left your life and you would have reason to grieve them.
All respect, that's an important concept, but that is not what I am thinking about when I read 'grieving the undead'.
#your brother is a vampire. he's sitting across the table from you chatting with your mother about her day#and he's dead and he's gone and he's never coming back.#he laughs the same and he talks the same but his arm is cold when he grabs you in a headlock and your dog won't be in the same room with hi#he'll still hang around watching TV with you and give you wedgies and make stupid jokes#but you can't tell him about the bullies at school anymore because this thing with your brother's face will just find them and kill them.#and not even stupid fucking Jason deserves what the monster in your dead brother's skin would do to him.#your brother is dead and lost and right there in arm's reach and gone forever with no hope of ever getting him back.#i'm sure there are corollaries to be written about like ghosts and zombies but this is the one i'm personally hung up on recently
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can you believe that we have fanfiction. that we have websites dedicated to fanfiction. that there is a place that you can go and read tens, hundreds, thousands and thousands of pieces of writing that strangers have made. people who are not "writers". people who come home at the end of the day and have feelings and say, i am going to put that into words. i am going to share those words. short, long, sweet, sad, horny, funny, wonderful words. we are all just human and we all love to make and remake and share that with others. can you believe that.
#ao3#archive of our own#fanfiction#sometimes i can't even believe how much i myself have written. like i think i am not a writer. i am not doing enough. i do not write enough#and i look back and i have 34 (34!!) works on ao3 and reams of unpublished work on my computer and so long left to live. so i think#we will be okay.#writing
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