#Escapril day 9 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flugsvamp88 · 1 year

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(9/4/23)

bold and bright as it burns in if i shut my eyes it doesn’t leave blaring noise trying to read my mind the more i speak the worse it gets if i speak no more they will not know my day to day life and how to ruin it

c.m

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clinksandgroans · 1 month

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bad habit

I’ve stayed up too late

once again.

I can hear finches.

#escapril 2024 #day 9 #bad habit

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barelyevenwriting · 10 months

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Day 9 Paradox

Was I conditioned to hate you

The same way I was to love you?

Inevitably,

Like sweet droplets of rain

On too warm windshields

Gathering in senseless rivers

Leading everywhere and nowhere.

Unawares, perhaps

Incidental, maybe

By some happenstance

Of situational context.

Were we made to cling to each other

Like pollen on dandelion seeds?

Did you fall gently,

Or did you go too far

Out there out of reach

In peaceful quiet

Where nothing else would ever touch you

Did we stray too far

Out of sunlight and anger

Until sweet words

And careless disposition

Dared to paint our walls a deeper green

In sadness.

When did we fall out of love,

You think?

Where and why?

Was it simply the quiet?

Or were we made to hate each other

The same way we were dragged into loving?

Awful, hopeful, terrible and quiet.

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circadeacademia · 1 month

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Prompt: Bad Habit (Escapril Day 9)

A list of bad habits I possess:

• Profusely biting nails when the butterflies in my stomach transform back into caterpillars.

• Staying up late at night because my brain identifies as darkness.

• Not drinking enough water ever since I'm drowning with my head afloat.

• Slouching like an open first bracket as I struggle to keep the burden off my shoulder restrained.

• Being a woman and (not) utilising my uterus up to its full potential.

#1 confession : my nails often look like the map of sri lanka

They live at the mercy of my incisors, much like slapstick characters next to my mother's precise C-section. I destroy them with the same audacity like butterflies in my stomach go through retrogressive metamorphosis. At times, I think of ripping my torso open like a rotten tree and unleashing the apex predator inside.

So the next time I declaw myself, spare me as a creature of habit. Because maybe if I try, I can make it precise.

#2 confession : unbothered, hydrated and in my lane (?)

3 litres a day, I thought would be enough to just ‘live, laugh, love’ through life. But I'm 7 part saltwater and a pretend salmon. Some days, I also mimic a biblically accurate eye candy : sour & pre-saturated in brine.

Make it make sense, but it's not really my fault if I remind you of a fish, actively drowning while gasping for water.

#3 confession : this rusty old uterus will be my endgame

Bloody hell! innit? You should've seen their faces when I decided to keep the river flowing and leave the barren field for aesthetics. This old hag is in her main character era and will chew right through your nerve endings to prove so. Enough with the uterus talk you say, but old habits die hard.

On a side note, I could've lectured you about the ‘Y’ in audacity, but well, what would I know? I'm just a woman and a woman I stay.

— circadeacademia

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cjoatprehn · 1 month

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Happy Escapril! I hope everyone’s having a good day so far. I’m dropping my 3rd poem this month with @adventurerswritingguild third Escapril prompt combined with an AWG specific prompt from their lists! Day 3 is “Eye Contact” with “hand / god / knife.” I shocked myself once more with my writing. There was such emotion this nearly became a short story than just a poem. I channeled several songs and a Rick and Morty quote for inspiration.

Songs and Episode Playing:

Dynasty by MIIA

VILLIAN by Neoni

Freaks by Jordan Clarke

Randy McNally (No Love Like Christian Hate) by TX2

Heaven Was Full (I'm Headed Straight to Hell) by TX2

Step Over a Body by TX2

Rick and Morty S03E06: Rest and Ricklaxation

youtube

Trigger Warnings

Religious Imagery

Death mention

Biblical Scripture

Familial Abuse

Christianity Indoctrination

Animal Death Euphemisms

Zombies mention

If There’s (a) God…

By CJOAT

Will update with spoken poetry video later today. 👍🏽

9:01 PM: Updated with a clearer stitched screenshot with Alt text. Dropping the spoken poetry video below:

[#escapril Spoken Poetry] If There’s (a) God… by CJOAT for @adventurerswritingguild’s Escapril

Please leave a like and/or comment on my videos—it helps knowing I’m not getting buried and some people enjoy them.

youtube

For my work to cause such a viscerally deep reaction in a relatable or impactful way is my whole drive for creating. When I was younger, it was just to create things that mashed folks smile, like Vincent Van Gogh’s Starry Night did for me. Now, since I’m aware of many difficult and often traumatizing concepts that folks go through but it kept being swept under the rug or shunned for any reason—I want my work to provide the space for discussion of the uncomfortable.

“Art disturbs the comfortable, and comforts the disturbed.”

That’s my main goal with my work. A driving force to not only comfort but build for better in society.

This deviated from the point of this update as it’s now 9:15PM; but I’m happy to have vocalized it. Today was rather turbulent, so I wanted to get it out.

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moonstruck-writing · 1 month

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I want to roll into a ball

lie in bed and cry

I say it’s my period coming

but it really is my bad habit

— keeping everything inside

I grieve in cycles

like the crimson tides

the moon moves and

draws and I feel the pull

but I do not know the

origin so I punish my

sadness by being more

productive and then I

wonder why I feel so

tired all the time

feeling guilty for resting

or doing something similar

but not actually restorative

is one of the unconscious

habits that hold me hostage

and make my inner child

act up by revenge-procrastination

a break of 30 minutes turns into

2 hours because I’ll get the job done

anyway but I don’t get the resting done

so I do it against my own will and then I

wonder why I cannot trust myself there’s

been a fight taking place inside of me for months

I’ve sold and bought the tickets even been the coach

for both fighters and still I seem to forget all the tricks in the midst

of playing dirty until a thought that doesn’t sound like myself breaks

through

and shines on the truth

that I’m not celebrating

all the hard work that is

existing and wanting it to

mean more than to survive

written for Escapril day 9 — bad habit A/N: I tried to fix the formatting but couldn't. Depending on the device you'll experience a different version of ~the waves~ (for desktop users reading it from my blog could help)

@moonstruck-writing

Do NOT repost or use my writing in any way

Reblogging is okay

#escapril #escapril 2024 #poets on tumblr #poetry #poems and poetry #original poem #original writing #poetic #poem #poems on tumblr #writers and poets #luna writes poetry

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wheatfieldspoet · 1 month

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ode to my phone alarms

after Pat Schneider

i reach for you as i begin to wake to take away the purpose i gave you. low and dull under my pillow you shake, but i sink back into a dream re-do.

you do your best to keep reminding me, just as i trained you, to uphold my plans so i squint against your light blinding me, and i finally hold you in my hands.

your mission is close, but still far from done since the movement is only in my thumbs. it won’t be long ‘til the battle is won— in a moment, the next set of bells comes.

a thankless task, to push against the shove, but, patience— is this not an act of love?

— Jade A.

escapril day 9: bad habit

@adventurerswritingguild day 9: an act of mortal love

napowrimo.net day 9: Write an ode celebrating an everyday object.

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oceansabove · 1 month

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escapril day 9: bad habit

i have a bad habit of never letting shit go. not to write yet another anxiety poem but i have a bad habit again of rehashing the same seven grievances. a bad habit of a repeated autopsy, of waking up in the middle of the night to crawl to the morgue, scissors out, tweezing around for the one thing i’m sure i missed in the corpse of my perfect new year. and while i’m doing it i’m not wearing gloves, not gowned up, elbow deep in the entrails of conversations, hands covered in little scrapes from picking at my skin, portal of entry for the intoxicating infection of regret, all my vulnerable circulatory system exposed.

#oceansabove escapril 2024 #escapril #escapril 2024 #original poetry

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unawware · 1 month

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ESCAPRIL, DAY 9.

----------------- Bad Habit. ---------------

I bite my nails down to the quick.

Nail polish chips in flakes

Splatters itself on my fingertips.

The clouds cast a shadow overhead

And this land beneath my feet,

That stretches to infinite roads ahead

Which will not take me

where I want them to.

I walk on wilted flowers

And I think of the locality

that used to be ours to explore.

The houses never changed

Just the trees went to full blossom

Every spring they’d be pink

In the monsoon, a lush green.

Sometimes I get so homesick

I imagine me,

Touching the doorknob of my room

With the same swollen fingertips

And black nail polish splattered onto them.

Old habits I should’ve left there.

But they form a resonance;

A bond, between you and i.

Bad habits, how I cling to them

Like a wishbone,

As if they’d take me back to when

I’d turn the doorknob of my room

And you would still be there.

#escapril 2024 #escapril #writers on tumblr #art #exerpts from a book i'll never write #poetry #poems and poetry #literature

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jellicle-shifters-au · 1 month

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it's that time of year again!

the prompts for escapril 2024 have been posted, and i'm in the process of figuring out what i want to do for them

i want to focus on the older cats (since they could always use some love), but i would love to get some suggests from all of you! i have plans for days 6, 9, 12, and 28 but the rest are free game :)

#prompts #cats the musical #cats 1998

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encrucijada · 7 months

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WTW GHOST GALA - DAY 9: Candy Corn

tell us how you chose the title of your wip

when putting my yearly escapril prompts into collections i picked a line from the first entry to turn into titles. my 2020 collection was titled underside of my tongue (from a poem about eos and hemera) and my 2021 collection was titled what the sun tastes like (from a poem about icarus). the first entry of my 2022 collection was about a concept that, ironically, came to me in a dream. it involved young adults with powers of oneiric creation filming themselves pulling things out of their dreams. the line i chose was originally "if you keep staring i'll never fall asleep" in full, and so we got keep staring and i'll never fall asleep.

when i decided to adapt my pjo ocs into an original ip i had to find a replacement for demigods, having been unable to make something out of that idea of oneiric creators i began worldbuilding around the concept of dreamers. i don't consider a wip official until it's titled and keep staring and i'll never fall asleep was just... perfect. i picked a different line from that first escapril 2022 entry to retitle the collection (until the dream dislodges) and the old title passed onto my new wip. it's an obvious title for a contemporary fantasy book revolving around oneiric creation (along with other dream-adjacent things). but i find it sort of poetic. i love that it feels menacing, almost like a warning. i love that it makes sleep seem almost dangerous. if i made the effort to keep analysing it i could say it relates to adam and piedad, the main conflict of the book, who haunt each other in dreams. i could say it's about the oneiroi (the physical manifestation of dreams) keeping watch over the dreamers.

#the albino rabbit with the red eyes is Such a look actually #wanted to make the covers blue because that is the Colour(tm) of keep staring. but i couldn't find photos i liked #or that i could edit in a satisfying way on canva #wtwevent #wtwcommunity #( wip ) greek tragedy!

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blkpetrichorr · 2 years

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“we’re not alone” - a poem by amaya branche

*back from savannah brown’s escapril event, day 9 🫶🏾🌌

—

“we’re not alone”

by amaya branche

[ i experience ]

a restless synesthesia of sensations

my soul its own dimension

of loosely woven associations

And

nuance

sometimes i think i pay a little too much attention

my jaw perpetually clenched

strained by the daily omission

of ineffable prose

so today i embrace my sensitive observations

indulging in the union of all things

i notice what’s not necessarily there

i talk around and not through

i challenge claims of irrelevance

and forever hold

that “farfetched” is a cowards favorite word

because yesterday i felt seafoam green

And

this room smells like winter

And

my skin squirms like earthworms

when i see bumpy trees

and that’s the only way i know how to put it

my love language is longform

i let my teeth tear away at the succulent flesh of a cherry

and savor it as i would a lover

picking their brain before reaching their core

the juice dripping down my lips as it fountains from their hips

a delicious mess

i don’t just take note

i see the universe in you

i think in words

i speak in pictures

i feel sounds like textures rippling through my veins

i walk backwards and run forwards

And

i am never satisfied

i am the consequence of an infatuation

prolonged

by a silver tongue

and resulting miscommunications

so it is in my nature not to be straightforward

pheromones released and a love drunk mistake

bore me:

a curse from the cosmos

an /enigma/

to the masses

[ [ a living, breathing retrograde

] ]

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salmonberrypj · 24 days

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Escapril Day 9 - Bad Habit

“I can do without anything,” Saint Augustine tells me as I brush my teeth.

“Anything?” I ask, in a soft tooth-pasted accent.

“Yes anything,” he says. “Violent shows, the theatre,” he looks at me in the mirror, “Women.”

“How?” I ask. I spit out the toothpaste, wash out my mouth, and return to the mattress on the floor. The homework glares up.

Saint Augustine is back in the doorway.

“I simply hate that my flesh is weak and I want earthly things,” he says, which is absolutely what I thought he was going to say.

See, that’s the problem,” the paper is so convoluted, so long, forms of formants from fricatives to floating tones I can’t place on vowels. Yes, I’ve tried. “What happens when you hate wanting earthly things, but not enough to quit wanting them?”

“Evidently you don’t hate it enough,” he says.

I’m not getting anywhere with the formants. I set them aside, pull up some essay prompts. I’ve never had an opinion in my life. “I wish I did,” I say. “I wish I hated wanting anything, so much that I only ever ate miso soup and drank eggnog. I wish I hated it enough to never feel tired. I wish hate was the strongest curse word I’d ever used, and the strongest thing that had ever burned and intoxicated me, and I never sat down to watch TV.”

“Good,” he says.

“Those things never pay off, though,” I say, the petulant sort of vain that’s almost comic relief.

“Then hate things more,” he suggests.

I can’t think of a second paragraph idea for this prompt. “You’re giving lackluster advice for a guy who wrote thirteen chapters on the subject,” I accuse.

“You’re being vain and foolish,” he says.

“You’re being a pompous, holier-than-thou old man.” I want to paint my nails, but I keep needing my fingers for something.

“I am,” he agrees, “Holier.”

“Break it up, break it up,” says God. I don’t recall at what point He got into my room. Maybe I’d feel more awake if I did some pushups. “You’re both perfectionists. That’s My job.”

“But I’m not a perfectionist,” Saint Augustine and I both answer, “Otherwise I would be doing everything right!”

-PJ

#Escapril #Poetry #Poem a Day #Creative Writing #Writing #Saint Augustine #I... may have got a little angsty with this one #Please excuse #I'm misinterpreting a lot of the Confessions on purpose I think because I need somebody to represent perfectionism #And Augustine is pretty good for that #But I don't actually mean any disrespect

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barelyevenwriting · 10 months

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Day 9 Natural Light

Nothing wicked grows here,

Nothing good either.

.

You must first allow

Air and water and light

To come in for things to be born.

I cannot.

.

I can't open palms against deserted hallways,

Fingers plucked clean off misfortunes

Through pale aching hours.

.

Not even sunlight comes to die in here,

Artificial and raw.

.

I've managed to grow a tower

in the middle of the irony.

.

(Do not call this a wreckage, please)

.

Be mindful of brittle bones,

Because I've lent out even forgiveness

In times of dreadful dawn.

.

Nothing grows if not allowed.

.

So climb inside this tower and look up,

Step by step until the cracks become apparent

By the streaming morning light.

.

Reach the languid beams

Streaming through the gaps between protection

And understanding.

.

I have given it all away,

Traded secrets stories and wonder

For shortly lived glories.

.

Come in with the afternoon glow,

And please stay

past midnight.

.

Nothing good grows in here,

Nothing wicked either.

.

Only silence and dreadful bore.

.

#thought cabinet #my stuff #writer has anxiety and will post old poems in queue to avoid further anxiety #escapril #escapril 2020 #klaus #borrowed stories #day 9 #my writing #poem #poetry #excuse the . in between paragraphs

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circadeacademia · 13 days

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Prompt: The absolute limit (Escapril Day 27)

A sample math paper that no one asked, but I set up anyway —

i. Find the tongue circumference of a pathological liar if the radius is 1⅘th the normal size during active lying. [ Manipulation error should be considered in the formula as and when applicable ]

ii. Consider the variable “H” to denote heartbreak and propose a mathematical framework quantifying the impact of a rapid heartbreak on a bruised heart. [ Discuss the challenges of measuring cracks on a glass heart to determine the emotional melting point ]

iii. Let M(t) be a function representing the current state of melancholy, where t is measured in tears. Determine the percentage of blue in respect to (dM/dt) where t = ∞ [ Interpret the outcome in context of a forced tragedy. ]

iv. Suppose the relationship between happiness and delusion is described by the function H(D). Determine the absolute limit of H(D) as D approaches e=2⋅718281….[ Discuss the impact of this limit where delusion introduces faulty values for happiness in the problem ]

v. Consider a scalene triangle with the points A,B and C. If the lengths of the sides depend on the intensity of mutual feelings, determine whether it's a “love triangle” by calculating the emotional dynamics from all angles. [ Calculate the intensity upto 4 decimal places ]

vi. The intensity of envy (E) is represented by the function E(g) = ag²+bg+c, where g is measured in guilt. Determine the coefficients a, b and c based on the following conditions: At g = -∞ , the envy level is 0 ; At g = 0 , the envy level is ∞ ; At g = ∞ , the envy level is -∞

vii. On the same set of axes, plot the graphs of the fury function F(e) = e²+5e+9 and the desire function D(e) = 3e²+7e - 13 where e is measured in expectations. Use red for fury and purple for desire to distinguish between the graphs. [ Label the axes clearly and mark any outbursts, collateral damage or other critical points on the graph ]

* All the questions are compulsory to answer in order to be accepted as a socially functioning human *

— circadeacademia

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totaldarksublime · 1 month

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escapril 2024 day 9: bad habit

slouching

and picking at my fingernails

and loving you.

in quiet moments

i find myself falling

back on the same bad habits.

to stop completely,

i would have to be a different person.

i changed for you once. maybe

i will learn to change again.

- JD

#escapril #my poems

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