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the-desperate-stargazer · 13 days ago
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Language is consciousness, and this is where fiction is made. Poetry springs from the dream mind, the unconscious. Poetry is never comfortable in language because the unconscious doesn’t know how to speak. All writing is storytelling. Fiction describes reality with words, poetry with images. I would guess in the history of literature fiction came first and taught poetry how to speak. The process I’m taking about, I call dreaming awake. Being fully conscious while still dreaming on the page.
Russell Edson, from “An Interview with Russell Edson” by Mark Tursi, Double Room (no. 4, Spring/Summer 2004)
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the-desperate-stargazer · 13 days ago
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―Family Line by Conan Gray, from the album Superache (2022)
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the-desperate-stargazer · 2 months ago
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thoughts on turning 22
15th june 2022
remember when taylor swift said, "i don't know about you, but i'm feeling 22" —like being 22 was something you had to feel and experience in order to relate to? well for some reason, after that, it was like turning 22 became an iconic point in the prime of our youth. it was like turning 22 was symbolic, was phenomenal because it was the height of your early 20s. you see, being in the early 20s is like a melting pot of all the catastrophic chaos and confusion and bliss of young adulthood. in other words, it's like "we're happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time. It's miserable and magical"  —and today as i turn 22, i feel like my life encapsulates all that wild energy, inexplicable confusion and widened horizons. it's like even if my life is full of chaos, it also has a youth to be cherished while it lasts. what else is 22 but a reminder that being young enough to feel all of this at once is something that deserves so much gratitude? and i'm grateful for my 22 years. i truly am. alhamdulillah✨
 —turning 22 isn't frustrating like turning 20 or 21. there's something different about it, something quite like joy.
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the-desperate-stargazer · 2 months ago
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ouch. being in your early twenties is a wound
being in your early twenties is like [grocery shopping alone] [having instant noodles for dinner] [remembering random details about that one friend you haven't spoken to in five years] [feeling overwhelming guilt for every purchase that isn't strictly "necessary"] [having midday naps] [finding out through facebook that the girl who was mean to you in high school has a husband and a baby] [falling a little in love with every stranger on public transport] [pretending you're not afraid of being alone] [wondering when you'll feel like a fully realized person] [listening to bands you liked in middle school] [blinking and it's suddenly december] [failing to imagine yourself ten years from now] [feeling like you're running out of time]
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the-desperate-stargazer · 2 months ago
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the loneliness and longing of young adulthood is so real. it’s like i am walking through the hallways of an IKEA showroom, glimpsing bits of homes that i long to recreate for my own. and suddenly i’m filled with an inexplicable ache of not having someone to make my home with. it’s like a part of me craves the presence of someone i love enough to share these little trips for home décor with, exchange ideas in these moments as we trek through the hallways of a showroom offering glimpses of a life that is craved just as much as the one to share that life with, is craved. yes, my mother is with me, a few steps ahead, choosing selected pieces of things that she thinks would come in handy for a home i feel like i’ve all of a sudden, outgrown. and even though, at this point in time, the fact that we are to take those tokens from IKEA back with us offers me some amount of comfort, the very notion of the possibilities of what could have been, had i had someone beside me with whom i’d talk of these ideas of designing our own home, shrouds me in this incomparable loneliness for someone, just someone i love enough to share these moments with.
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the-desperate-stargazer · 6 months ago
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thinking about the casual intimacy of showing someone you love an unfinished work of art, the underlying message saying, i trust you with my unpolished heart
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the-desperate-stargazer · 7 months ago
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to the moon and back
i say "to the moon and back" and my friend points out to me that mathematically speaking, to travel to the moon and back is likely to only take 19 hours. which, if tied to the magnitude of one's love, means hardly anything.
but I tell her that poetically speaking, to the moon and back could mean an endless rotation, a cycle of returning. because if you think about it, the moon, in whatever form it takes, re-appears every night. so, to say to the moon and back can contain each of these nights within it. like every night i will travel to the moon and come back to you: a nightly promise to return. not just to return for love but for everything in between. and i think that's beautiful.
― a reflection from poetic scratches, in heart fragmented between war and peace, by The Desperate Star-Gazer
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the-desperate-stargazer · 7 months ago
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"something is stuck at the back of my mind and it's like the colour black turned luminous."
—an excerpt from mind in monochrome, from poetic scratches in heart fragmented between war and peace By The Desperate Star-Gazer
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the-desperate-stargazer · 7 months ago
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Instagram: ana.zilhao
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the-desperate-stargazer · 7 months ago
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Gillian Flynn, Dark Places
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the-desperate-stargazer · 7 months ago
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/forms of destruction/ suppose you ruin your dreams with the sharp edge of insecurity/ will that be a crime?/ fear is a master killer, mostly it leads you with it towards its own death/ like a winged bullet navigating it's way towards an unpresuming victim, this anxiety has your heart as its goal/ overthinking haunts you with its threat to inhibit your capacity for triumph/ suppose you give in to an urge to wreck your chances of possible victory/ will that be a crime?/ suppose you slam the accelerator as you head down the avenue of failure/ won't that be crossing the line?
—By The Desperate Star-Gazer, from poetic scratches in heart fragmented between war and peace | 17. 10. 2021
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the-desperate-stargazer · 7 months ago
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we should treat love as something to be built rather than found
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the-desperate-stargazer · 7 months ago
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𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟹, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟷 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟶-𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟹
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the-desperate-stargazer · 7 months ago
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― Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood
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the-desperate-stargazer · 7 months ago
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Palazzo Biscari Rococo-style staircase
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the-desperate-stargazer · 7 months ago
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Nelly Sachs, tr. by Eric Plattner, from The Seeker: “Enigmas of Night,”
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the-desperate-stargazer · 8 months ago
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"Rage, maybe rage would life me up, make me stand, make me walk -- "
- Marlon James, Black Leopard, Red Wolf
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