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unspokengrief · 10 months
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My father is in the kitchen cooking dinner. Pots are banging, and the peas are overflowing. I ask him for the fifth time when dinner will be ready. ‘When it is in front of you’ he says.
Now the kitchen is empty and I am alone at the dinner table. Grief is the only thing in front of me. I am not ready. I wish you had of asked me if I was ready.
I am alone at this table and I am not ready. Patience was not his virtue but grief is setting the table and I am not ready to say goodbye. I wish you had waited till I was ready.
And in a whisper, I hear my father say ‘but here it is, in front of you. Grief does not wait for dinner to be served before it takes a seat at the table.’
— Hannah Green, ‘Knocking On Heavens Door.’
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sotakeabitofcalpol · 9 months
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sometimes your only common language is violence
Mirror Traps, Hera Lindsay Bird // Batgirl (2000) #73 // Eat Your Young, Hozier // Batgirl (2000) #68 // WIRE MOTHER ENERGY DRINK, Daniel Lavery // Batgirl (2000) #25 // @/honeytuesday // Batgirl (2000) #72 // Night Terrors, Hannah Green // Batgirl (2000) #73 // On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Vuong
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sinligh · 1 year
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In the name of healing I bite chunks of myself daily, spit them out in my hand with the intention to wash it away later
Eventually, i end up over analyzing them, like everything else in my life
grafts of all the causes I’m still here, glued together by my mother’s fears
be the Alpha female, she said. “feed on your most beloved, a cup of the moon’s blood every night before bed for you to run alone forever, run wild, never slip”
I Shower myself with self-loathing, lick my own wounds close Keep me sane, keep me safe
loneliness to me is just another insecurity that is dangling from my prefrontal cortex, dangling right in front of my eyes… for me to see the world through it.
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I spend hours looking at the bloody chunks in my hand, thinking where did i go wrong ? how much can I hold on to this heartache ?
I've been running around it all my life, running around red lines, red lines circle me, i run in circles around myself I’m all that I’ve ever knew, yet, I only know myself in fading
A distant memory, a deja vu…
All I really know, is that the only stable in my life is the fact that I exist, and that it’s a temporary state.
jamais vu.
will the lines fade if i eat what i bit off of myself again ? if i chew and chew and chew… If i teach myself to stomach it will i be whole again?
is holding on to those pieces enough to satisfy my desire to be held ?
Or does it make me a feral rogue ?
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Schizophrenic delusions ticking in my head…
Sometimes I wonder if it’s my fault that I’m this alone…
then again I wasn’t the one feeding myself all the insecurities as a young child.
I wasn’t the one playing pretend.
It was never my fault, my mother thought faking happiness is the way to protect me, it was never my fault father wasn’t interested in the details, as long as I was his perfect girl…
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Now, I can’t hold on to anything the way i hold on to the lunatic turmoil that makes me sway and laugh on my own personal misery.
Call it history.
Hide behind defensive humor, get my inner demons drunk on caffeine, mistake that high for happiness cause mama did too…
And wait for caffeine withdrawal to wake us up, both of us…
I’ve never been hangover, but I imagine this is how it’ll feel
The aura ? The migraine?
The urge to throw myself up to be reborn clean.
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•••
•Quotes: Olivia Laing/Heather Havrilesky/ Olivia Laing/ Marya Hornbacher/Anaïs Nin/Camille Norton/ Alice Oseman/ eduardo C. Corral/anne carson/ Joanne Harris/ Hannah Green/Hannah Green/Lisel Mueller
•Original context: sinligh
•Art reference:
1. Sasha Hartslief, Late Night Shower, 2021. 2. Getting Up by Vincent Giarrano. 3.illustration by Owen Gent. 4. The Lovers on the Bridge, 1991. 5. "Beverly Edmier 1967' Keith Edmier, 1998
•song recommendation:
P.s: the whole album is a masterpiece ! Give it a try, thank me later.
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ang3l-t33th · 7 months
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musings on mothers. - bad at being a daughter. worse at being a son.
Real Men - Mitski // What a Body Inherits, Sweet, Young, & Worried - Blythe Baird // She Should’ve Been a Son - Nirvana // unknown [ghostogogk] // Class of 2013 - Mitski // on love arriving unannounced - @halfof-mysoul // Real Men - Mitski // My Mother Never Loved Me - Hannah Green // Mama - MCR //
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oppred · 2 years
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on grief and tragedy, inhibiting a body not your own
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the god between spaces on substack / galanterr/ hannah green / Farewell by Kiyoshuki on DeviantArt / ocean vuong / ghostbri on tumblr / naomi shihab nye Chantal Horeis on Twitter / olivia laing / sylvia plath
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mccoppinscrapyard · 1 year
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Read in 2022 (6/?)
I Never Promised You a Rose Garden by Joanne Greenberg (Hannah Green)
❝ You know... the thing that is so wrong about being mentally ill is the terrible price you have to pay for survival. ❞ 
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golf-lpga-world · 9 months
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quotesfrommyreading · 2 years
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In 1960, in the lead-up to the trial of Adolf Eichmann, the psychologist Bruno Bettelheim wrote an article for Harper’s Magazine, titled “The Ignored Lesson of Anne Frank,” that blew me away. He said Jews had a death wish and had gone passively to their extermination. At a New Year’s party, I cornered a survivor named Walt and asked if it was true. “It’s nonsense,” he said. “Number one: Where would we get the guns in order to resist? Number two: The poison was already there and waiting to be used against us. Number three: How do you escape with all the kids and Grandma? Who will take you in at the cost of their own lives?”
“How could Bettelheim write such a thing?” I asked. Walt shrugged and said, “When you have an experience that is so far out of the usual, so traumatic, you either change it or you forget it. I had forgotten the specifics of my experience when I had done slave labor. I know where I was and what I did, but I let go of the feelings that surrounded it. This Bettelheim has changed his experience, made it fit with his understanding of where he is now.”
  —  What It Took to Finally Write Honestly About My Mental Illness (Joanne Greenberg)
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hergifs · 2 years
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the 100 309 “stealing fire” deleted scene featuring abby griffin, charles pike, hannah green, octavia blake (mentioned), marcus kane (mentioned), lincoln (mentioned), jacapo sinclair (mentioned), and jake griffin (mentioned).
pike (to hannah): i want you and monty on surveillance in case kane’s people try anything.
hannah: you think octavia’s coming?
pike: the way this place leaks? first sign of her, she becomes priority one. this insurgency ends tonight.
hannah: yes sir.
abby (to pike): tell me it’s not true.
pike: i’m sorry. i know how much you care about marcus, but-
abby: -even on the ark, we made exceptions for the people who benefitted our group. don’t think of them as criminals. think of them as an engineer, a soldier, a leader.
pike: your husband benefitted the group. did you argue against floating him?
abby: no. and it haunts me to this day.
pike: this wasn’t an easy decision, abby, but it is the right one.
abby: at least let me say goodbye.
pike: (sighs) of course. i’ll arrange it.
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untilthenexttee · 23 days
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(via Next Tee News - March 5th, 2024)
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lovejam · 4 months
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Reading Christina Rossetti’s Poetry
View this post on Instagram A post shared by Dalnavert Museum (@dalnavertmuseum) The readings of Christina Rossetti’s poetry. For more information on Christina Rossetti, here’s a link.
View On WordPress
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unspokengrief · 5 months
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If there is a god, he knows I’m coming. If there is a god, he’s familiar with my screams. Silence is not something I am privilege to. Every molecule of my ache hissed. Every rip of my skin, the crack of my bones, it was all familiar. A lamb waiting for slaughter. A girl in a dark alleyway. The bitter taste of my fury. It was all too familiar. My body, an echo chamber for my screams. I do not have enough time to tell you my story. Listen for the screams. Silence is a privilege.
— Hannah Green, ‘The Opera’.
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highladyofterrasen7 · 4 months
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Has anyone read The Queen’s Fool by Phillipa Gregory?
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sinligh · 2 years
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Couple of minutes separate me from sunrise
I supplied my own mind with all the destructive material it might need to ruin us; And it honored it all.
I asked for mercy, promised that I’ll create a better environment for both of us…
It deemed it all lies; and so it took control, spoke to me only in my dream flashes of the words I choose to swallow haunted me in my sleep.
All that broke me All that made me be.
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I’m calm, tranquil, existing…. a sweet taste is left in my tongue from the last conversation i had. Citrusy; because of all the words I swallowed.
It’s still dark, i had enough of the night to decend to the basement of my soul and bury some of the rage, along with all the faith i had in it.
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Hanging by a rope I climbed back up.
Now, I’m seriously considering using that same rope that is covered with the dust of the grave I buried my rage in
To drag the sun down.
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The urge to wrap myself around her Is infuriating to nuzzle my face and melt slowly…
On second thought, the sweetness of melting slowly
Should be reserved only for August.
Apparently, I’m calm enough to wait for another day.
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•••
•Quotes: Carlie Hoffman/Joyce Carol Oates/Sylvia Plath/Alice Hoffman/Anne Sexton/Hannah Green/
•original context: sinligh
•Art reference:
1. Untitled, by Monika Mostowik. 2.art by Truls Espedal. 3. Moonchild, 2017 - Santiago Caruso. 4. Art by Thomas Blackshear. 5. Yellow shadow by Margaret Durow.
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batfamgalore · 7 months
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Oliver: I knew you two couldn’t stay mad at each other.
Dick: Oh yeah. We’re closer than ever.
*Dick and Roy hold up their hands and they are both handcuffed together*
Bruce: You wanna tell me how this happened?
Roy: Well, Wally thought-
Bruce: Oh man, I wish that boy would stop doing that.
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paiagata · 1 year
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Estou contando isso porque quero que você entenda que é impossível tentar refazer o mundo para proteger as pessoas que amamos. O que não significa que você deva se mortificar por ter tentado.
- Eu nunca lhe prometi um jardim de rosas
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