Somebody broke me once
Love was a currency
A shimmering balance act
I think that I laughed at that
And I saw your face and hands
Colored in sun and then
I think I understand
Will I understand?
Will we fight, stay up late?
In my dreams I'm to blame
Different sides of the bed
Roll your eyes, shake my head
Now we're stuck in the storm
We were born to ignore
And all I got is a chance to just say
(I'm in love and you've got me, runaway)
You steal the air out of my lungs, you make me feel it
I pray for everything we lost, buy back the secrets
Your hand forever's all I want
Don't take the money
Don't take the money
I slept on my own those nights
Was still in my parents' house
And I cut off my t-shirt sleeves
And claim a new continent
'Til I saw your face and hands
Covered in sun and then
I think I understand
Will I understand?
When you're looking at your shadow
Standing on the edge of yourself
Praying on the darkness
Just don't take the money
Dreaming of an easy
Waking up without weight now
And you're looking at the heartless
Just don't take the money
Macdennis as Don't Take the Money by Bleachers
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reason #??? i want to live away from people: YOU STEAL THE AIR OUT OF MY LUNGS, YOU MAKE ME FEEL IT! I PRAY FOR EVERYTHING WE LOST, BUY BACK THE SECRETS! YOUR HAND FOREVER'S ALL I WANT! DON'T TAKE THE MONEY! DON'T TAKE THE MONEY! (“baby, love me! you've got me, runaway!”) YOU STEAL THE AIR OUT OF MY LUNGS, YOU MAKE ME FEEL IT! I PRAY FOR EVERYTHING WE LOST, BUY BACK THE SECRETS! YOUR HAND FOREVER'S ALL I WANT! DON'T TAKE THE MONEY! DON'T TAKE THE MONEY!
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somebody broke me once
love was a currency
a shimmering balance act
I think that I laughed at that
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so behind on all things tumblr
will catch up today (maybe?)
have the song living rent free i my head
love to all
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
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I went to an Ilan Pappé talk yesterdays - I really recommend his books if you've not checked them out already. He's arguably one of the worlds leading experts on Zionism and the "Israel"-Palestine conflict, so obviously everything he said was great, but what I want to highlight:
Someone asked him if he thought the protests and petitions and calling you reps and shit would work, and he said no, it never will. It's still important to do that but the powerful will never surrender their power to the powerless just because they ask for it. Asking the UK and the US to cut ties with their imperial outpost in the Middle East is like asking an animal to gnaw off it's own limb - it won't do it unless its only other choice is dying completely.
So who does have the power to put a stop to this, we asked. The working class of the imperial core. That's us, and we are the most powerful people in the world right now, because this war machine can't function without us. Movements like this can only be built from the ground up, so stop looking to the government and start looking to your community. We need to make it more unprofitable to support Israel than it is to cut ties with it.
This is a call to action. The people HAVE the power, and we have to use it. Yes, that's you. Contact your trade union, your workplace, your school, your church, your university. Your friends, family, any connections you have. As many people on board as possible, with one goal: shut it down. Take direct action now.
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