my plants all died amid the bitter winter days. i killed them in cold blood; let the bedsheets droop onto the floor. let the mugs pile up on the kitchen counter. my lunch gets cold in the microwave, and it sits there for hours.
i cry in third person over the pasta drawer. because i’m sad, and angry, and tired of this bullshit. because i’ve kept my mouth shut all day, i’ve gritted my teeth and worked around it. but my tears are sticky and pervasive. and i hate them, a little bit.
i hate the bright blue sky. i hate the bleeding roses, and the neon-yellow sunshine. because this isn’t normal, and i’m not okay.
and i just wish things were different. but i’m so fucking exhausted. and i don’t want to try anymore. i don’t want to fight. i just want to walk out to the ocean, and cry you tsunamis, and earthquakes, and landslides. i want you to just listen, for once in your life. i want you to hold my hand, and promise that it’s going to be all right; make me soup, or peanut butter crackers, like in the movies.
but right now, i guess that’s not really an option.
Hey guys! Welcome to back to yet another Shoutout Saturday, my weekly series where I like to hype up/shout-out some things that have been making me happy throughout the week. This is actually more the highlight of, like, the last two or three weeks, because in reality I do not consume this much content in a single week. But anyway, here you go! I hope you enjoy.
Okay, so, full disclosure I literally just finished binging this show a few hours ago. (There are only four episodes so far–so it wasn’t too extreme, but still.) Anyway, I loved it so much, so I had to include it on this list. Unseen is told in slice-of-life snippets from the perspectives of people living among us, who are in some way aware of magic.
I am absolute trash for a well-done urban fantasy. I love, love, love the idea of magic casually existing amid the modern world, and how everyone seems to have a different take on what that might look like.
The sound design and production quality in general of this podcast have blown me away so far–I can’t wait to see where it’ll go next.
The Two Princes
I actually listened to this podcast ages ago, and was absolutely obsessed with it–but, like most of my sudden and uncontrollable obsessions, I grew out of it after a few days. However, they recently dropped their third season and it’s kind of the best thing in the entire world, and basically just drop-kicked me into my Two Princes phase.
This podcast is pretty much the cutest thing ever–it reminds me a lot of the fantasy books I used to love when I was younger, but adapted to be relevant to an older audience–it deals with themes like dealing with your parents’ expectations of you, or going off on your own and figuring out who you are separate of them. The two main characters, Rupert and Amir, are princes from two kingdoms, who meet in the middle of the woods while they’re both on a quest to save their kingdoms. They reluctantly band together, and eventually fall in love. Their relationship is so beautiful, and if you don’t get extremely emotional thinking about their relationship, I don’t trust you. All I want is for them to just be happy, with their little family of a dragon named Porridge, and a dog named Fitzroy.
Also, it’s a musical–and all the songs are really good, and there are lots of exciting adventures, and it’s just so freaking good and always makes me smile. Please, I’m begging you, listen to it.
The Trials of Apollo
So, growing up I was the biggest Percy Jackson kid. I loved pretty everything Rick Riordan touched, and would just reread all his books over and over again. But there’s so much stuff in them I never really appreciated as a little kid.
I didn’t really recognize how much representation there was in these books, or how cool it was for a middle-grade fantasy series to tackle issues that most authors in that genre steer clear of. And now I’m older, to be honest, I feel like these books are way better. (Partially because of the nostalgia factor, let’s be honest.) It makes me so happy that there are books like this out there, where every kid can see someone like them.
I read the first two books in the Trials of Apollo series ages ago, but at the time there weren’t any more books out, so I kind of just forgot about it. Recently though, I delved back into the series now it’s over, and I’ve been loving it so much. It’s smart, and hilarious, and heartbreaking, and I love it so much.
I think, beneath it all, the core of these books is a place for kids who don’t feel accepted by society at large–where they can feel understood, and loved, and at home. I remember how much that helped me when I was younger, and honestly, it’s still so nice even now. They’re one of these books that I think can be interesting the people of any age. It was so fascinating to dig back into them from a more mature perspective, and I think it’ll be so fascinating to read them again when I’m in my twenties and see what I think of them then.
So, yeah, in conclusion, these books are amazing, and you should check them out, no matter how old you are.
I recently stumbled across this album, and I’m absolutely obsessed with it. (The amount of times I’ve listened to it is honestly kind of embarrassing.) All of Conan Grey’s music is absolutely breathtaking, and I can’t believe I didn’t listen to it sooner. It’s so unique, and gorgeous, and strange. I don’t know how to even put it into words, but god, I love this album so much.
My friend (who has absolutely immaculate music taste, for the record) recommended this album to me, and I’ve basically had it on loop ever since. It’s strange and dark and beautiful, and it’s probably the most Gen-Z album in existence.
I’ve never really found art or music that tackles the issues this album does, in the way it does, before? It’s so refreshing and depressing and beautiful, and just really therapeutic to listen to. The music just has an incredible way of transporting you into the artists’ mind, and allowing you experience her feelings as your own–which is just about my favourite thing in pretty much any form of art.
Okay! I think that’s about all I have for this week. I hope you check out all of these things, I love them to the moon and back! Stay safe, take care of yourself, and I’ll see you next week.
it’s so sad it’s funny, the way the rotting leaves soak into my sneakers. and the cars roll past, one after the fucking other. how i pick at my cuticles until my fingers bleed, and want to scream a little bit. because i never meant to hurt myself. it just kinda… happened.
it’s depressing, and pathetic. the way each night, i tell myself i’ll get my shit together tomorrow. and i really mean it. but tomorrow never comes; it is bright and effervescent. it is new year’s eve promises, and dollar store condolence cards, screaming i’m sorry as you bang at the front door. but people are people. and i don’t think it matters anymore.
because i’ve worn myself down to nothing. mastered the art of hanging on by a thread. let my lips go numb, and my shoulders grow tense. allowed dark circles take up permanent residence…
but tomorrow warms me like a sunrise. it is the flicker in my eyes; it is the lump in my throat. one slow, careful footstep after the next; goodbye melting into hello. long car rides, clinging to the words of some stranger on the radio.
and i know what you’d say. some bullshit, about not crying because it’s over, but smiling because it happened. and of course, i’d only half believe it. but i’d cry a little bit. because your hugs were warm, and your flowers bloomed golden.
because you promised me, that tomorrow would be better. that it would be okay. and whenever i forgot, you’d teach me how to breathe again, which is stupid, and embarrassing, but… i think you might have saved me, back then.
and so i will build myself back up, like a jenga tower or some shit. and maybe it won’t be the same. maybe it’ll be wobbly, and imperfect. but tomorrow, tomorrow, it all be worth it.
Hey guys! I hope you liked this piece, I love it so much! I wrote and edited it in the same day because I was itching to get it finished. I think it speaks for itself, so I don’t have anything to say in that regard, however: I’m planning on doing a spoken word track for this piece, so expect that soon! Also, I’m working on a video for “be okay” but as soon as that’s done this is next on the chopping block.
so i will untangle this knotted mess. i will sit on my bedroom floor, for hours on end, searching for an answer i don’t think i’ll ever find. but god knows, i’ll try. god knows i’ll fight. i’ll do my best. i’ll cry out, until my voice cracks, and the starving vultures descend.
but can you really blame them? because at the end of the day, i mean… they have to eat too. and if i am the fledgling that never learned to fly, then leave me behind if it’s what you have to do.
and i will find myself, in rough drafts, and journal pages. i will find myself, and i will lose her, too. i will walk in endless circles, tracing footsteps back to my poisoned roots.
because i’ve never been good at letting go. have i? always holding on tight, to worn-out sneakers, and crumpled-up pieces of scrap paper. even as they pile up around me; an ocean of bitter memories, filling up my room. but i think it’s time to let go, now.
the smoke in the air reminds me of birthday cake. sparklers and tealights. i burn the soup again. because i’m tired, and impatient. and i’m not good at this. i never have been.
because this time, it’s not birthday cake. or a failed cooking experiment. the world is on fire, and i feel insignificant. tissue paper and packing peanuts stuffed down my esophagus, wrists tied down to the railroad tracks. if this is love, then i’d rather be consumed.
because love shouldn’t hurt. shouldn’t twist tight around my throat like a boa constrictor, or suck the oxygen from the room. i wore your favourite dress, did my hair; deep cleaned the house, and stuffed all the skeletons back into the closet from whence they came. it’s perfect now, isn’t it? just like you.
i cling to your hand as the fissures spread. hide in your shadow like a little kid, as strangers pour into the living room. i keep my mouth shut. do the dishes; feed off half-eaten scraps and shreds of attention if i have to.
but the party’s long since over. the flowers have rotted down to the ground. they’re gone, they all are.
and little girl, all that’s left is you.
Sometimes I feel like I’ve spent my whole life defining myself by other people.
This poem isn’t about any one person or relationship in particular–but more a long lineup of shitty experiences I’ve had throughout my life. Where I let other people tell me who I was, or I based my entire identity off. It worked better when I was younger, I guess.
But as I’ve aged, I think I’ve started to realize that, well, the people I admired weren’t exactly perfect. And that no matter how hard I try, I’m never going to be them, and that following in their footsteps would make me absolutely miserable; that whatever I define success as, there sure as hell isn’t a neat, clear path to getting there.
Right now, I feel like I’m just in some strange kind of limbo. With 2020 coming to a close in two months (thank god) I’ve been thinking a lot about what I accomplished this year–and honestly, beating myself up a fair bit about it. I’m in the habit of idolizing my past selves, and remembering the past as far better as it was. But also… I don’t know. I used to be such a cool person. I used to do all these insane things, and take risks, anxiety be damned; mark out each month with a new beautiful accomplishment. I can’t help but look back on the past year, and feel like it’s been wasted. And I know, that I can’t expect myself to change the world while processing everything going on right now, both in the world and in my personal life, and dealing with my mental health. But… I still do it anyhow. I’m trying to work on that.
For my own sanity, I guess I just have to believe that I’m going to come out of this as something better. As a happier, more stable person. I don’t really believe in fate, but I do think that when things get hard, I can throw myself a pity-party, lie in bed and never get out. Or I can let myself cry, like myself feel everything I need to. And then, get up. And try to make it into something good.