open when you miss me, write back when you read me.
“you know, as i’m writing this, you actually sit not even five feet from me. you look beautiful tonight, and while its crazy, I stare at you in the same way I think a student states at paintings in art museums. You’re home for not much longer, this I know. So I study you as if you are acedamia. I long for you as i do a good slow dance, and i stare at you as if you will disappear at any second. You will.
But, this is not a paper of melancholy. You miss me, no? Of course you do, i would miss someone as extravagant, lovable, gorgeous, and unforgettable as me as well. Fairly, I would miss you too. Im sure at the time of you reading this, I do. I have. I will. Just the same as you. Im sure I miss your smile, your hair, your skin. I’ll miss the way you never miss to groan when a good song comes on the radio and you see me stand and know you must stand also, take my hand, and twirl me around the kitchen. i know you love it. i know you’re miss it. i miss you.
i want you more than i could ever want anything, and you have not even left me yet. i rue the day you do.”
- excerpts from a story i have yet to tell
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I just think that 'animals are living intelligent creatures that have feelings and deserve to be respected' and 'when done properly farming is beneficial to both people and animals and there's nothing wrong with raising and killing animals for food, clothing, and other products' are concepts that very much can and should coexist
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so sad that in america the only options after a terminal cancer diagnosis is either to make meth or make saw traps
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Donna Noble really got in the TARDIS and on trip number ONE like ONLY the FIRST trip she was like we are going to change history to save a single family because that is how it should work so that is how it does and then on trip number TWO on the SECOND trip she was like we are going to destroy an entire culture of slavery because it is right I don't care if we're two people and then on the THIRD trip she was like I am going to be unbelievably brave to save my home and everyone I love and then on the FOURTH trip she was like no living breathing thinking creature is less than a person and how dare you try to dehumanise someone like that how dare you not give her a name and the list GOES ON this woman NEVER MISSED there goes one of the kindest bravest most constant women you might ever meet and she's a temp from Chiswick
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We were so close to smoking not being cool anymore. We were so close. Then they flavored it mango and now it's taboo to criticize it anymore. People don't ask if they're allowed to vape indoors, they aren't considerate of people who may have health problems that are triggered by the chemicals or if it just bothers them, people don't care that they're supporting an industry built on corruption and greed, they can't see it draining their pockets and much less their health. We were so close to smoking not being cool anymore.
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I can't tell when people are flirting with me I'd rather you just pin me to a wall and tell me how badly you want to make out
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I'm just imagining being annoying as fuck and the boys decide to fuck with you back.
So they take turns throwing you around to each other. Like, at first you're squealing and flailing but eventually you realize they're not going to drop you and you just kind of give in to their strange punishment.
And, of course, Price chooses to walk into the rec room at that very moment. He just watches over his coffee cup as you're tossed around from Sergeant to Lieutenant to Sergeant.
He turns and leaves. He doesn't have time for this.
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having bpd is actual hell on earth cause no one tries to fucking understand you and they write you off as being difficult and too much and they leave and we’re left with this fucking personality disorder that consumes my entire fucking existence and they act like its THEIR inconvenience that IM ill.
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DIRECTOR'S NOTE • Nov. 2023
You can't go home. This play has a particular
care for and interest in its victims. The resident
inciting event is endless. tragedy is much more
concerned with footnotes than it is with gods.
well acquainted with what happens afterward,
storytellers claim they can't diverge from what's
written: resist. rage against what must be.
tell a story about war without talking
about love. survive its aftermath. fail
to find resolution. make this suffering
a home. There's no breaking this chain—
fate, as always, gets its way.
Poetry assembled from the program of an Oresteia production. Nov. 2023.
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