#the book is “Grocery List Poems”
Text
from "Habit" by Rhiannon McGavin
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Grocery List -
4.27.24
1984 audiobook
Willow
dish soap
milk
peanut butter
bananas
avocado
cucumber
feta
kalamata olives
chickpeas
tomato paste
tomatos
greenpeans
allanada
things to think about.
being more kind, saying sorry where it’s in need
also understand how to calm a racing heart beat when you’re upset about something, and, i’m talking about me. Understand why you get mad, annoyed, frustrated when your friends drink too much, or when I was the odd girl that shows up at a party. new and quiet. loving every second to talk to listen and to see
write more of this stuff instead of aching for something to change.
1 note
·
View note
Text
I've kept these notebooks that i put everything in. Grocery lists, bad poems, ideas, interesting designs, sketches. They tended to get disguised as sketchbooks, but i've given up on that in the last few years, since there's less drawings in them nowadays and more concepts.
I found out, that book is called a commonplace book! And it's a pretty old concept! Everyone has a different one if they do it, since we think uniquely.
It's like a notebook mixed with a sketchbook and a concept map and a scrapbook, and so messy and at the same time, only clear for the one who made it. Honestly it makes me feel like an old-fashioned intellectual or a full time thinker, which i'm not, and it travels everywhere ♡
Does someone else also use one?
79 notes
·
View notes
Note
more dad friend Angeal and mom friend Genesis pls I need floof 🥺
Angeal And Genesis Parenting Sephiroth Headcanons
• Genesis brushes Sephiroth's hair for him when he's too exhausted or can't muster up the energy to. He makes Sephiroth sit on the bed and takes slow, gentle strokes so that he doesn't hurt him. Sometimes he'll talk softly, others he'll hum or quote a poem.
Sephiroth likes the way Genesis braids his hair over when he does it himself. There's no difference, but Sephiroth claims "it feels better."
• Sephiroth thinks he's being a rotten friend when he steals Angeal's hoodies. He still hasn't caught on that they're all his exact size and preferred style, and will probably never find out that Angeal buys them specifically for him to "steal."
• Genesis likes to eat apples around Sephiroth so he can share it with him. He doesn't think his friend eats enough fruit, and is more than happy to sit with him, cut up pieces with his pocket knife and hand them to him one by one.
• They always put Sephiroth in the middle when they're sitting together.
• This extends to their sleepovers, where Sephiroth sleeps in the middle, sandwiched between them.
• Whenever Genesis and Angeal go grocery shopping (together or alone) they remember to buy Sephiroth snacks he likes and to keep their cupboards stocked with his favorite things. It's one of the many ways they make sure Sephiroth eats since he's prone to forgetting to feed himself.
• Angeal hugs him and doesn't pull away first.
• Angeal likes to cook, Genesis likes to bake on occasion. Sephiroth can cook, but he's not nearly as adept as the other two. Angeal and Genesis share the kitchen sometimes making dinner and dessert respectively.
Sephiroth helps by chopping and stirring things—that is, when he's not sitting on the counter and watching them. Genesis gives him the spoons to lick. Angeal lets him taste things to make sure he likes them.
• Genesis once bought him an "adult" coloring book to see if it would help with stress. He didn't expect Sephiroth to finish it within the week. "Coloring book for Seph" is now a permanent item on his shopping list and he makes sure to check whenever they're running out.
• They will never embarrass Sephiroth by grabbing his hands to cross the street. But Sephiroth walks too fast and often impatiently crosses the street before the light turns green (he has social anxiety to thank for that). So they've developed the habit of walking on either side of Sephiroth and keeping him close, gently nudging him with their arms.
• One time Hojo insisted on keeping Sephiroth overnight to monitor his mako levels. Genesis and Angeal heard this and didn't think twice before going to R&D to stay with him. Sephiroth figured it was the shock of seeing the two SOLDIERs show up at 1 AM that killed Hojo's protests. The three of them sat on a cold metal slab table for hours—with Sephiroth in the middle.
The sound of beeping monitors were drowned out by soft laughter, conversation, and a half-hearted game of Queen's Blood. Eventually Genesis and Angeal fell asleep, slumped on Sephiroth's shoulders. In that moment, Sephiroth forgot what it was like to feel unsafe in the labs.
• Genesis always keeps a spare hair tie or two in his pocket in case Sephiroth needs it.
• Sephiroth once fell asleep on the couch in Angeal's office one night when they were going over assignment details. Angeal knew how little sleep Sephiroth had been getting lately, so he opted to carry him back up to his apartment. Thank the goddess that the only person he ran into was Genesis, who followed them back and made a fuss of getting Sephiroth's bed ready for him.
• One time Gen and 'Geal are standing in line at a store. The lady in friend of them makes an offhand comment about how she's glad her child isn't with her to ask for something from the candy display.
Genesis: Tell me about it.
Angeal: What is it with kids and mediocre candy?
Lady: Oh! You two have a child?
*Genesis and Angeal look over and see Sephiroth excitedly coming towards them. He has a box of limited edition materia lollipops in his hands*
Genesis: Close enough.
#headcanons#ff7#ffvii#final fantasy 7#sephiroth#final fantasy vii#ffvii crisis core#genesis rhapsodos#ff7 crisis core#angeal hewley#crisis core
102 notes
·
View notes
Note
SEASHELL: let's look for beautiful things on the beach! send me a line from a book, song, or movie/tv show and a character and i'll write a short (<1k) blurb for you
“i love you i want us both to eat well” with my love remus 💞 This line from "Our Beautiful Life When It’s Filled with Shrieks” by Christopher Citro is my absolute fav!!!
i love love love this poem!! i also love the lore about the author's grocery store setting -- so i took that a bit literally with this! here's some slightly chaotic grocery shopping with remus <3
--
You check your list. Asparagus, lettuce, paprika. That gross cereal Remus likes, some tofu, your favorite brand of sparkling water. Enough that your basket is heavy but not enough that your arm hurts.
Someone clears their throat and you move out of their way and embark on your next and final task: find Remus. Grocery shopping at this store used to be fun and easy. You'd meander the aisles and pick things off the shelf with only a vague idea of what you'd cook together that night. But they rearranged it this year and now it's chaos. That, and it feels like about a million more people started to come here.
So you and Remus have a system. You split the list and do your best to get everything you need in 15 minutes before meeting in the frozen breakfast section, which is hardly ever crowded. Not enough love for breakfast burritos, it seems.
You shoulder your way through produce and past the deli counter and squeeze into the frozen aisle between two carts of old ladies arguing over some tortillas.
And then you spot him. Remus is looking at his own list, basket at his feet. He seems to be counting something on his fingers, hair flopped over his forehead and shirtsleeve shoved up on one arm only. You take a few steps to admire him before he either hears or senses you coming to him and looks up, face transforming to a grin.
"I was starting to worry you'd been eaten by the masses," he says. You set your basket down next to his and stretch your arms above your head. "Did you get everything you needed?"
"Managed to grab some of your nasty cereal, too," you nod. He claps. "What about you?" You glance down at his basket and see the things he'd been tasked with -- some pasta and ice cream, fruits and snacks.
"Got your weird cardboard pastries," he says primly. You'd swung through that aisle and not seen them, so you beam at him.
"Really?" you say. "Oh, I love you."
Remus laughs. "Darling, if I'm entitled to my breakfast you are entitled to yours. Had to fend off a child for them, though."
You feign an outraged gasp. "You did not," you say. "Remus Lupin, a man who steals from children."
You expect him to roll his eyes at you but instead he reaches out to cup your face, thumb tracing your lower lip. "I just want you to have what you want," he says, entirely too tender and sincere for the frozen aisle.
Your cheeks feel hot and you duck your chin and gently grab his wrist. "Yeah, yeah, alright, Romeo," you say. He releases you with a smile turned smirk and you pick up your basket. "Let's fight for a self-checkout."
"Lead the way, darling."
join the celebration!
#fvsbeachday#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x you#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin fanfiction#marauders fanfiction
99 notes
·
View notes
Text
How Emily Dickinson Makes Black Cake
When Emily wasn’t writing poems
she was baking in mammoth quantities.
Her recipe called for something like twenty – no, thirty eggs
all separated and beaten; sacks of sugar, cakes of butter.
When Emily wasn’t writing poems she was
entertaining crowds of friends and neighbors
with her mammoth quantities of baked goods.
Perhaps it was her defense against criticism.
Keep those verse tucked away on scribbled
scraps of paper in books next to recipes and
grocery lists. Instead, sweeten the world around
her with mammoth quantities of delicious
baked goods and witty conversation
about the weather and all those friends and
neighbors indulging in Emily’s cakes.
by Jennifer Dotson
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
Was It Over Then? (Is It Over Now?)
We need more Mello content so I spat this out guys sorry. Let me know if I should continue?
September 24th, 2005
Lorelai Grundel wrote in her diary. She sat in the Bar of her Apartment Complex trying to figure out something to write down before her therapy appointment. She didn’t like writing very much, she was always better at numbers. Doctor Lambardi told her she could use it to write down anything she wanted.
Doctor Lambardi clicked her pen once…twice…three times before she said, “Ms. Grundel, if you aren’t going to say anything I’m going to have to ask you to communicate with me in another way.”
Lorelai furrowed her eyebrows, “How so?”
“Well you could always draw how you feel?” Lorelai made a questioning face while Doctor Lambardi continued, “I didn’t think so, how about this…”
She stood and pulled a journal out of her desk drawer and handed it to her. “You could write. It is obvious you do not wish to speak about what happened and I’d hate to have to sit here in silence once a week. Write whatever you want in it, how you feel, poems, song lyrics; hell you could even write your grocery list in here. Just something, anything to help me help you. Can you do that Lorelai?”
Funnily enough, she had agreed and that's why she's at a bar with a notebook in hand.
It’s not like she didn’t say anything during her therapy appointments on purpose. She just couldn't get out what she had to get out. Every time she tried to talk about what happened, nothing came out. The journal method seemed to be working better compared to the previous meetings. From just two entries her Therapist was able to discover that, since the incident, Lorelai went out once a month and saw her family even less.
Lorelai was about to write another to-do list when someone sat two seats down from her. A man with sunglasses and blonde hair threw himself into the seat and ordered a drink she didn’t catch. He didn't seem to notice her there because he continued to talk on his phone.
“Just make the deal Tony, I want it done by 6.” He hung up the phone and glanced her way. “Can I help you with something?”
“No.” She said dryly before turning back to her notebook.
He turned to face her a little and took a sip from his drink, “You a writer?” he asked.
At first she had no idea what he was talking about. Then she glanced down at the open notebook and her disheveled hair that she had been tugging on the entire time she was sat there. “Oh. No this is something else, I’m much more of a math person.”
He nods before turning back to his drink. She took this as an opportunity to study him. He wore a leather jacket and trousers. He had blonde hair to his shoulders and was wearing sunglasses. She guessed the sunglasses were an attempt to cover the obvious scar on his face. Or maybe to hide his identity.
She couldn’t help herself from asking, “Do you live in this building?”
He smirks before picking up his now empty drink and shaking the ice around, “Who wants to know?”
Unimpressed, she sighs and rolls her eyes. Staring at the empty journal in front of her she starts to panic. Why couldn’t she write anything down? She had so much to think about. So much to say and there isn’t one word she could use to begin to describe it. In frustration she slams the book shut and stands from her seat.
She hears laughter, “Whoa,” the blonde laughs out, “What's the matter with you?”
Lorelai shoves in her chair before saying, “Stuff it Blondy.” And leaving him at the bar.
__
“I feel like we’re moving backwards with these meetings, Lorelai. Which I didn’t think was possible, but here we are.”
Lorelai did feel bad. It’s not like she was doing this out of some vendetta against Doctor Lombardi. She just couldn’t think of anything at all to write.
“Here’s what I think we should do.” She adjusts her glasses, “I think you need to reconnect with the world again. Go to a bar–a real one–meet a friend for some drinks, something to get you out of your apartment.”
The Brunette scoffed, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I don’t have that many friends.”
“You don’t talk to Paisley, from University?”
“I do, but–”
“I know this isn’t what you want. Especially right now but I really think this will help you. It’s one night, why don’t you just try it?
—
Paisley Tomphson was a blonde, energetic girl who had majored in Finance. She and Lorelai met in their sophomore year of school at Columbia. Unbeknownst to Lorelai, Paisley had missed her dearly. She never knew why the girl stopped reaching out to her after they had graduated.
Of course Paisley hadn’t known what happened to her. So Lorelai sat on her couch in her place staring at her phone. For some reason she just couldn’t pick it up. Fifteen minutes had passed before she finally thought what the hell.
“Hey Stranger!” The sweet sound of Paisley's voice rang in her ears.
“Hey How’ve you been?” It came out a lot drier than how she had wanted it to but it was better than her first thought which was to hang up.
“I’ve been good, I missed you though. I haven’t spoken to you in three months.”
“I know, I’m sorry time got away from me.”
“Yeah it did. It’s ok I’ve been busy too, I moved back home for two months.”
Another thing that Lorelai had liked about Paisley was that she was very low maintenance. They each had their own lives and things to deal with and they both respected that. “You still in New York?”
“Yeah. I was actually thinking about meeting up for drinks? Maybe tomorrow?”
“There’s nothing I’d want more. I’ll meet you at your place at 8 tomorrow.”
Lorelai sighed, “I’ll be here.”
#mello
13 notes
·
View notes
Note
I’m not sure where to start.
I feel like sometimes I want to type out my thoughts with your most recent chapter right next to me, but then I would probably write you a review as long as your chapter and that seems excessive. I would like to begin but saying your authors note made me laugh. A log adrift in a sea. I believe your story is worth the wait. I truly love a good slow burn.
The “Pffft” sound is truly one of the sweetest sounds in the world. I have always thought there’s a lot of beauty in sharing oranges or any other type of citrus. I think it’s a fruit that is meant to be shared and offered. LAfter readying that in your very first chapter- I listed a little more closely when I ate a mandarin and fell in love with the sound. To see Azriel recall that moment was so sweet and moving.
The relationship you have given Nesta and Elain is beautiful. It’s actually a relationship I share very similarly to my sister. I’m older but I’m definitely more the “Elain” while she is the “Nesta”. I don’t know anyone as strong willed as Haley to be quite honest with you. I find more and more of my Haley in your Nesta. All the more reason to love your story.
I’m so glad Lucian finally knows. 😭😭😭😭 I have a lot of love for him. It’s a relief to know that they’re okay. The realization that Azriel really did want to murder him was hilarious. And when he gave her fallacy it made my heart so so happy.
I too, fuck heavily with cheese. All kinds. I used to work in a fancy grocery store deli, and I am a cheese connoisseur (unofficially).
I’m excited to see what exactly happen with the Reyweavers. 🤸🏽♀️ You’re creativity is the reason I breathe.
Why do I feel like Azriel is going to have to go out and find Elain??? 😭 “I will find you always.” Man I’m not ready for what’s to come. AND WHEN HE GAVE HER THE CARVING I JUST ABOUT DIED.
I’m going to read your story from the beginning again. I always reread chapters but I feel like I want to start it from the top again, you know?
I know you mentioned that there would be letter sent back and forth in the next chapter and I’m so so so excited! I’m currently reading a book called Divine Rivals and that’s an element to that story. I love love letters. It’s so underrated and I wish more people would send them. I recommend the story. It’s a YA novel but it’s so romantic and beautifully written.
P.s. I’ve always imaged Az and Elain the same way you have. I just know Elain has some nice defined eyebrows and a big ass.
All that’s to say- Elisabeth you truly are a star.
A poem I think of often.
My Azriel (minus the stubble)
1) yes big ass Elain 2) girl your azriel is tasty take me to Italy and sprinkle some Romano on that man I’ll eat him for dinner. 3) i too need cheese like oxygen.
4) nesta is sacred to me too. I love her and truly believe her and Elain balance each other and have shared trauma in a way that binds them to be immeasurably close if SJM ever allows it. 5) i will pocket your recommendation thank you.
6) I love that you love the clementines. I believe that sharing food is really intimate. In the books Feyre + Nesta eating / weight gain is part of their journey away from trauma. I am choosing to have Elain slowly offer foods to Azriel in a parallel of that, the offer to nourish his heart and body since no one really has.
your comments give me life 🥹 love y’all.
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
hello hi, hope y'all are doing ok :)
this is just my take on this aesthetic, my personal brand if you will, so please don't come at me if it isn't completely accurate
(i do not know where a few quotes are from so if you do, please lemme know so that i can list them)
poetcore // chaotic academia // downtown girl
vibes: grocery stores, existential poetry, psychology/english major, iced caramel lattes, old bookstores, anatomical heart emoji, thunderstorms, wired earphones, art museums, dyed hair and a nose ring, vintage posters stuck on bedroom walls, blue hour, ink stained hands, latin curses, 3 am showers, voice notes, smudged eyeliner, cocoa lotion, choco chip cookies, silver rings that clink against ceramic cups, native language nicknames, annotated books, commentary videos on youtube, forehead kisses, candles, love letters, lullabies, sunlight through curtains, libraries at night, homoeroticism, angry girl music, pressed flowers, coffee cake and coffee eclairs, glitter pens, lipbalm, dog cuddles, super specific playlists, daily outfit pictures
fashion: small shirt big pants black nailpaint mismatched earrings signature perfume hair sticks black turtlenecks cardigans fingerless gloves nose rings high waisted jeans linen shorts lipgloss cotton dresses waist jewelry heart shaped locket moss coloured bralettes bandanas tank tops crystal necklaces white eyeliner oversized earth toned sweaters cargo pants vintage band tshirts charm bracelets and anklets crop tops smudged eyeliner harem pants claw clips fairy earrings tote bags doc martens with everything lots of antique rings
songs:
ribs - lorde
coffee breath - sofia mills
movies - conan gray
how long - hadestown
sunflower - post malone, swae lee
i want you to want me - letters to cleo
bookstore girl - charlie burg
sappho - frankie cosmos
achilles come down - gang of youths
girl from the bookstore - jack jones
poet - bastille
all too well 10 minute version taylor's version - taylor swift
artists: mother mother, bon iver, girl in red, arctic monkeys, daughter, florence + the machine, hozier, the neighborhood, taylor swift [folklore and evermore in particular]
movies: shutter island, dead poets society, lady bird, 10 things i hate about you, five feet apart, potrait of a lady on fire, kill your darlings, fleabag, perks of being a wallflower, all the bright places, loving vincent, call me by your name, eternal sunshine of the spotless mind
books:
crush - richard siken
a little life - hanya yanagihara
the song of achilles - madeline miller
ode to aphrodite - sappho
the bell jar - sylvia plath
and then there were none - agatha christie
envelope poems - emily dickinson
the secret history - donna tartt
the picture of dorian gray - oscar wilde
a room of one's own - virginia woolf
the robber wife - margaret atwood
the yellow wallpaper - sam vaseghi gilman
quotes:
what we love, we mention. - Marie-Helene Bertino
you said i killed you. haunt me then. - Emily Bronte
loneliness is still time spent with the world.- Ocean Vuong
let me stay tender hearted, despite despite despite.
that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. - Walt Whitman
i love you. i can't tell you. the sun on your face will do it for me. - tumblr user tturing
i will love you if i never see you again, and i will love you if i see you every tuesday. - Lemony Snicket
someone has to leave first. this is a very old story. there is no other version of this story. - Richard Siken
nothing ends poetically. it ends and we turn it into poetry. all that blood was never once beautiful. it was always just red. - Kait Rokowski
love is real. i saw it once outside my window and it stopped to look at me but kept on walking and i thought it'd come back but in the end maybe it was just passing through.
in ten years' time, i want to live in a house with big windows, i want the house to be large enough to have a kitchen table with four chairs but not too roomy to ever feel the depth of my aloneness. because i'll probably be alone. but i think aloneness won't feel so all-consuming with windows that protect me from the world but still let me watch it. - Maeve Wiley, Sex Education
male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it's all a male fantasy: that you're strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. even pretending you aren't catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you're unseen, pretending you have a life of vour own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. you are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. you are your own voyeur. - Margaret Atwood
take care, love love >3
#poetcore#chaotic academia#downtown girl#please add other tags i am exhausted after writing this whole thing 😭
35 notes
·
View notes
Note
Have you read much African literature (apart from Coetzee?)
I confess (if this is a topic requiring confessions) that it hasn't been an area of focus for me. I've one read novel each by Achebe (Things Fall Apart), Salih (Season of Migration to the North), and Gordimer (The Pickup). I've read Soyinka's most famous play, Death and the King's Horseman, his state-of-the-world Reith Lectures (Climate of Fear), and a handful of his other essays on art, culture, and politics. I read Okey Ndibe's Foreign Gods, Inc., and then went to hear the author speak down the street at the Soap Factory, when it still existed; he and his book are very funny. I've read (I even taught) Phaswane Mpe's Welcome to Our Hillbrow; my friend from South Africa, Maurits, now a professor at the University of the Western Cape, pressed it upon me in graduate school after I conceded I'd only read Gordimer and Coetzee. And Alan Paton. We read Cry, the Beloved Country in high school; I think it counted as the non-European selection in 12th-grade world literature. If the colonial diaspora in Africa counts, I've read Olive Schreiner (Woman and Labour) and Doris Lessing (The Golden Notebook); if the postcolonial diaspora in America and Europe counts, I've read Chris Abani (The Virgin of Flames), Teju Cole (Open City), and Marguerite Abouet (Aya de Yopougon). To what continent of the mind does Cavafy's Alexandria belong? Perhaps neither to Africa nor to Europe, to no land at all, but to the Mediterranean Sea. Nevertheless, I have read Cavafy's Collected Poems. Some of Senghor's poetry, too, and his "Negritude: A Humanism of the Twentieth Century." Some of Ngũgĩ's polemics also, e.g., Decolonising the Mind, but not yet one of his novels: illustrating the geographic inequality still obtaining in what our Marxist friends call the "system" of world literature, I keep waiting for the call from Stockholm to impel me, though I do suspect the Swedes gave his prize away to his lesser-known exegete, Abdulrazak Gurnah. I want to read Gurnah's Paradise along with Ngũgĩ's Devil on the Cross. If only for a final reckoning with Marxism, I want to read Burger's Daughter by Gordimer. I know I have to read Bessie Head someday. Soyinka's seems a sensibility as bottomless as that of Joyce or Borges, so I know I have to go back to him, to all the plays and to The Interpreters and Aké and Art, Dialogue, and Outrage. I must return to Egypt—not to Cavafy's Alexandria next time, but to Mahfouz's Cairo, where I fear I've never been. Nuruddin Farah and I used to shop at the same grocery store, but I still need to read him. The to-read list goes on: Mia Couto, Christopher Okigbo, and especially Dambudzo Marechera, whose experimental and anarchic works I've only browsed, but whose cosmopolitan motto I admire: "If you are a writer for a specific nation or a specific race, then fuck you." And a book I should have read 20 years ago, 25 years ago—they should have just made us read it in Catholic school—which I still keep meaning to get to: the Confessions of St. Augustine.
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Letters to the Lover Unknown...
A story of two poets (Zola & Jermaine) who meet through a poets pen pal program . They are matched up and write poems to one another, they eventually get to know each other through letters and decide to write a poetry book together about love since most of their poems are about the trials of their love lives. They eventually meet and fall in love.
Zola
Set the Mood:
“New Apartment-Ari Lennox”
“Starting Now-Brandy”
“Self Care-Savannah Christine”
The big move...
I have spent most of my life in San Myshuno, being a true city girl at my core. I’ll miss the hustle bustle of the city but I need a change of pace. Windenburg was really 3rd on my list of places to move but Newcrest was still devoloping and San Sequoia was too family oriented for me. I still wanted to experience a good night life while also having the option to live in suburbia quietness. It’s also not too far of a drive, 4hrs was not too bad and a 1hr flight was something I could stomach.
My older brother Sailen (Say-Len) was helping me with the drive and moving into my new place. I got lucky with the place I found. When I was scouting one weekend. I happened to look in the classifieds and saw a 1/1 available with some stipulations. I later called and spoke with an older widow named Peggy, she said the rent would be lower if I did grocery shopping for her weekly and came by to help with her garden. She lived in Henford-O-Bradley which was a 20min drive from my new home. She seemed sweet and like she could use some company. I love my elders. Hearing their stories from youth until present day is my favorite pastime. They have so much wisdom and beautiful life lessons. It also gave me something to do while exploring and hopefully meeting new people.
S:“Ayeee man turn this lovey dovey shit off! Put on something else, bout to fall asleep at the wheel”
Z:“Nobody wants to listen to Rod wave crybaby ass!”
S:“N**ga I’m driving so I get the Aux anyway!”
Rolls eyes and switches the playlist, he so aggy man.
S:“30 more mins and you’ll be starting your new life! how you feeling bug?!”
Z:*Sigh* “I’m excited but a little nervous. My head is all over the place to be honest. Everything is secured but I’m just worried about making friends. I have not even met my new co workers yet! Idk I know I’m overthinking it but I just want to this to be a good decision ya know?
S:“Do you ever really know if something is good or not? Tbh it could be a bad one or it could be the best decision of your life, the only way to know is to try. To experience it. You don’t want to get old and regret not going for it and any where you go you’ll meet someone who'll like your weird ass lol.”
Z:“Shut up! I really can’t stand you sometimes but you’re right”
S:“And don’t worry about friends I’m going out tonight I’ll bring you back some “friends”
Z:“You better not bring no strange hussies to my new apartment lol”
My brother and I could not be more different but he truly is my bestie. I was sad to be leaving him and the family back at home. But I wasn’t happy and they knew it too. My brother was my number one supporter for this move, probably because it gives him an excuse to come to party and have a place to crash at afterwards. He is quite the explorer but cool with never leaving home fr. He’s kinda a mommas boy lol and my mother and I ehhh.
S: "We here bug!"
We finally arrived to my new place, I could not wait to fill this place with furniture but mostly new memories and fun times. Time to blast Ari Lennox “new apartment”
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lucia Cherciu - Butter, Olive Oil, Flour
Even the grocery list is a love poem, a prayer—
God, let me keep what I love.
Peaches, cheap. Books, brilliant—
mine so I can underline.
How aromatic the apricots,
how sharp the novels.
Together,
we have planted an orchard.
I don’t understand the word defensive:
are you supposed to just sit there?
I don’t think we have this word in Romanian;
we also don’t have a word for camel toe.
Or panty line: if you don’t see one
does it mean you’re going commando?
You always put a spell on me.
And everything I want is here—
but where am I?
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you. Spread the positivity! ❤️
Oh I love this! Thanks @kraytwriter!
Fellowship. I love the quiet conversations I can have with my sisters, the way little things make us erupt into loud laughter, the way we "get" each other so well because these are the two I've known longest. I love the way I can just chill with my dad, whether we're talking about something or nothing in particular, or making each other smother laughter in the grocery store aisles while people look at us like we're weird for enjoying the mutual company, or driving to do errands in cozy silence. I love that I have family I'm not related to by biologically--but in every way that matters they are my family. I get to have older sisters! As an oldest, that is special. I get to share jokes, make food, adopt bits of their isms, and become friends with them more deeply day by week by month. People who have no apparent reason to care two beans about my existence love me enough to call me sister, to stay up praying with me when the pain is too much, to plan fun things, to talk shop about books or science or crocheting or creating or future plans. I love the fellowship with my wider church body, the music, the prayer, the care, the mentorship. I love being surrounded by all these people who see me as worthy of love, so I can see myself that way. People who mirror the love of Christ, so I can follow their example.
Being outside!! Sometimes the most healing thing is just to exist in nature. If you're feeling anxious or depressed (or sometimes both), or you just need a change of scenery, heck, you don't even need a reason--GO OUTSIDE!! Notice the textures, the gorgeous colors, the air! Appreciate the sound of birds, of wind, or running water. Move your body, if you can, and be thankful for what it can do for you. Look at the world, and fall to your knees in awe of the one who made it so lovely.
Words!! I wouldn't want to live without them. The stories and poems and I've read and heard and memorized have shaped not just the way I look at the world and the way I think about life, they've literally made ME. I wouldn't BE me if I hadn't begged to learn to read when I was two, or read the Jungle Book when I was five, or devoured the Chronicles of Narnia a year or so later, or seized upon Prydain as a middle schooler, or loved so dearly any of the dearest books to me. I wouldn't be me if I hadn't been singing since before I can remember, hadn't always loved and learned and sung the old hymns, hadn't added to that a love of so much music, so many worship songs, so many folk songs and songs old, young, and in-between. I wouldn't be me without the poems which are part of me--"Hurt No Living Thing", "Trees", "Daffodils", "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night", and so, so many more.
Most of all, I wouldn't be me without the Word himself, and without the Bible--all of it, but especially the bits that are in me, that are quite literally woven into the fabric that is Sarah.
Creating things. I could elaborate, but I think I'll just say that this ability--or, not even ability, just the potential and the fruit of that potential--has brought and continues to bring me SO MUCH JOY!!
Leading. I have always been pegged as a leader, no matter what group I find myself in. I used to at once resent and hold a strange sort of pride in this fact. My perspective on it, and on what it means to be a leader, has changed especially in the last 2 years or so. Getting to learn to be a leader from people who are already doing it--getting to listen to and implement their advice, but even more so to watch them in action and observing what they DO--is such an honor. I think I might finally get a little piece of what my summer camp leader was trying to get across to my class of student leaders. Leadership is about serving. It's about learning, it's about problem-solving, it's about making good choices and being a good example, yes, but more than all that it is to serve. To lay your life down for the people you're leading. That is the best example, that is what Jesus did. The constantly-changing relationship and understanding I have of leadership is often food for thought and a spark of joy.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
i love a tag game i love talking about myself i love @knightrelic for tagging me in this
1. nickname: bucky actually is my nickname! my last name is buck, so bucky was kind of a natural next step lol. even my dad used to be called bucky when he was younger
2. sign: pisces sun, libra moon, gemini rising. i do not believe in astrology and the only one of those i knew off the top of my head was my sun sign lol
3. height: 5’11, but that bumps up to 6’ if i wear my docs
4. last thing you googled: “did chadwick boseman do his own singing in get on up”. my dad and i watched it last night and i was curious lol. for those interested: it was mostly recordings of james brown, but but boseman did do some singing in select parts (he was great btw) and all of his own dancing!
5. song stuck in your head: father and son by cat stevens. i have a playlist called “most beautiful songs ever written” and that’s on it
6. amount of sleep: i went to sleep at around 3, and technically woke up at like 10:15, even though i stayed in bed and chilled for like 45 minutes before getting up, so that’s ~7 hours
7. dream job: tattoo artist! saving up for my third tattoo rn, and i wanna see if there are any shops looking to take on apprentices or receptionists or something as soon as i have the time
8. wearing: cassette tape socks, green pants with a chain for a belt, plain black sweatshirt, red & blue flannel, and earrings that look like i have screws stuck through my ears
9. books/movies that define you: not 100% sure if i understand this one, but i’ll just ramble a little i guess lol. movies: my own private idaho, bill and ted’s excellent adventure, monty python’s meaning of life, the muppet movie, walk hard, the silence of the lambs, the wall. books: house of leaves (mark danielewski), johnny got his gun (dalton trumbo), the raw shark texts (steven hall), the martian (andy weir), the time machine (hg wells), eunoia (christian bök) , frankenstein (mary shelley), the great gatsby (f scott fitzgerald). that is… more than i intended to list for either category lol
10. favorite song: in general it’s the re-recorded version of bloodstains by agent orange, but i’ve been listening to a lot of showtunes recently so hosanna fro jesus christ superstar and try me from she loves me are up there too
11. instrument: i’m mainly a singer & guitarist, but i also play ukulele and harmonica (i’m a bit better on ukulele but it’s been a looong time since i’ve practiced lol). i’m working on learning poems, prayers, & promises by john denver on guitar rn and man is it a doozy. guy fucking loved his altered travis patterns huh
12. aesthetic: i have,, no idea. sometimes (usually when it’s warmer) i lean a little towards grungy, but nowadays i look a little more like a cool librarian just cause it’s cold, but then i tend to look kinda preppy when i have to dress up for something, and i also have “sexiest person at this grocery store” disease so it’s… kind of all over the place. i like fun socks? i wear a lot of jewel tones??
13. favorite author: there are very few authors of whose works i have read more than one, but my all-time favorite book (house of leaves) was written by mark danielewski, so i’ll go with him. that being said, madeline miller writes gorgeous prose, james joyce has fantastic control of the english language (even if ulysses murdered me), and andy weir is fucking hilarious
14. fun fact: ooo lemme think. my belly button is off-center. i can wiggle my ears. my mom owns a car that used to belong to billy joe armstrong and i got to drive it to my senior prom. i can tap dance. i have a small but growing collection of funny mugs i find at thrift stores. i don’t know how to dive. i once drank worcestershire sauce on a dare from my sister. i’ve lived in arizona my whole life but i’ve never seen the grand canyon.
i guess im supposed to tag 14 people for 14 questions but like bracken said i don’t know 14 peoples so i’ll just tag @commander-vas-normandy @mattmurdockspainkink and @localmvthman along with anyone else who wants to do it! :•)
#bucky’s thoughts#probably went a little overboard on most of these but as previously mentioned i like to talk about myself lol
4 notes
·
View notes
Note
helloo happy spring my sweet!! if u want answer me these: 15, 30, 32 muac
Thanks friend <33
15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?
Most of the books I read these days are library books, so no to these. I don't mind dog-earring pages though, and I went through a phase where I would write in books quite a lot, so no judgment for people who do that
Also I have to say that I'm a shower gal through and through, but the idea of reading in the bath feels way too dangerous to me anyway. Maybe it's because I'm clumsy though
30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?
Hmm interesting... I wish I had some wild story to share, but I don't think I ever drew inspiration from a dream. Maybe I should explore that! And as far as I can remember, I've never even dreamt that I was writing, nor have I dreamt of my stories/characters—which is actually wild because I spend so much time thinking about them so you'd think they'd follow me in my sleep 🤔 I will say that I do a lot of 'writing in my head' when I'm in bed, though, and sometimes I'm like half-asleep if that counts 😅
Also I think there's quite a few of my fics that involve the recounting of dreams, because it's an obvious and easy way to get access to a character's subconscious
32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?
Not sure if I'm supposed to share a line I wrote or that belongs to someone else so I'll do both, and I think they're connected in a way.
“I want to grow up with you, idiot. I want to get a shitty job and a shittier house and live.”
How badly he wants to promise George the entire world, promise him his leaky studio with a double bed they have to keep a secret. How badly he wants to give him a band of silver nobody can know about, gentle kisses in the shower, skin sliding with hot water, grocery lists stuck to the fridge and hands joined under the covers. Autumn rain pressing against the windows. Snow petals drifting into their hair when spring comes. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so terrified of the future, eyes filling with primal fear every time he thinks about getting older.
This is from katabasis, which I've read a few days ago and has haunted me ever since (as has every work from this author tbh). This paragraph in particular made me stop and look out the bus window and be like 'Damn... That's insane dude' (especially in the context of that fic, the angst is just up there. Anyway)
I think there's something about writing intimacy by turning very specific and mundane details into something more that really appeals to me. I don't always know how to write intimacy, and I'm also not a description/setting-driven writer (it's all about the dialogues and conflict for me), so when I do manage/remember to do it, I always end up feeling like it's my best writing. An example of it that I think of quite often is this line from Somewhere Only We Know:
Sometimes they both reach out at the same time and end up kissing each other slowly for hours, while all they can hear is the low buzzing of the fridge coming from the kitchen.
writer asks
1 note
·
View note
Note
Do you have any tips for learning Russian? I've been using Duolingo but I feel like I need something a little more in depth to supplement it.
I’ve switched a lot of my apps over to Russian and once I’m a lil better I’m gonna flip my whole phone to Russian. Podcasts are good, youtube too! there’s Russian youtubers who have channels dedicated to learning it :) whenever you finish the duo course too, try “learning” english course as a Russian speaker. Find poems or simple stories. I’ve also found some Russian history videos in Russian w English subtitles, that’s helpful too! Finding other ppl to talk to is intimidating but mostly I think other people are excited to see someone trying to learn and speak their language and will not be rude if you make mistakes. Check ebay or like a half price books or B+N for Russian dictionaries or workbooks! I think trying anything lil thing to immerse yourself is good. I write my grocery lists or my things to do lists in Russian/English or try to translate the things around me too. make labels for the things in ur house. I just tell the ppl around me things i’ve been learning too whether they want me to or know Russian or not. Удачи!
#the libraries around me have foreign language sections with at least a few russian books—check libraries out!!#anonymous
1 note
·
View note
Last Seen Blogs
android-gavin-gv200
What Is It, Meatbag?
irisandtheflash
It's You and Me, Iris
lordeinart
lorde in art
riddhidisplaypvtltd
Riddhi Display Equipments Pvt Ltd
novice0
ryanreynoldsmybeloved