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i drew my profile pic! text reads “i commit crimes”
infp- 4w6- they/them

black lives matter & pride is over but the fight for lgbt+ rights is year round.

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Message from Writer

"Sleep heavily and know that I am here with you. The past is gone, and cannot harm you anymore. And while the future is fast coming for you, it always flinches first, and settles in as the gentle present. This now, this us, we can cope with that. We can do this together you and I." - Welcome to Night Vale

lowercase is intentional.

i like:
- fiction podcasts (welcome to night vale, wolf 359, the magnus archives)
- indie/alternative music (always open to recs!)
- comedy & mystery shows
- existential poetry (mary oliver, richard siken, anne carson, ocean vuong)

an important piece by outoftheblue- https://bit.ly/3dBxv5r

everyone should read the article "i know what you think of me" by tim kreider

(it was only a light drizzle, but you take what you get when it never rains)

February 10, 2019


today it was raining, and the water gathered at the crest of the hill
and dove down; the shallowest river i've ever seen,
and i'll admit i was daunted, but math class couldn't wait,
and i curled my toes and fell upwards.
when i reached the door, she said my jacket looked like
a jackson pollock painting in gray and black. well:
i remember jumping in puddles,
sending my gleeful reflection splashing over the pavement,
and giggling between mismatched teeth
and too-small feet,
but i tried that again and
the water swallowed my shoes
and soaked through my socks
(and i would use a better verb,
but soaked is the only one that can snare the right feeling)
and the cuffs of my pants were dark and dripping
and the water splattered on passerby whose faces snarled at me.
i didn't have a change of clothes,
so my socks kneaded my raw-red feet and
my shoes leaked into my skin.
and it was unhappy and i was unhappy
i wondered if
the happy days of splashing in puddles
was a collective dream or nostalgic propaganda or even
real, but if it was then why didn't the water seep into
the rubber of my soles and why didn't the pool drench my
bright tiny clothing and why didn't i burst into tears
because trust me, i had no trouble wailing my heart out back then.
and if it is real and i'm honest
then i'm outraged because i haven't changed,
so why did the puddles?
It rained today for the first time in months. This occurred to me as I was walking to math class with no umbrella, and I decided to write a poem about it. If you're going to like, please leave a comment as well; thanks for reading!


See History
  • February 10, 2019 - 11:33pm (Now Viewing)

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  • Johanna

    This is so deep even if jumping in puddles is supposed to be a light-hearted and childish; I don't know how you do it- it's amazing

    over 1 year ago
  • JCWriter

    There are so many good things to say about this that I hardly know where to start. The way you put these words together is just amazing.

    over 1 year ago
  • Pi_Pen

    The poem is lovely, I love the description of contact with water. Wonderful ending, too.

    over 1 year ago
  • pencils.and.paper.roses

    This is great! Your questions at the end are very thought-provoking.

    over 1 year ago
  • paperbird

    ack your figurative language is so perfect

    over 1 year ago
  • loveletterstosappho

    i love the concept and the way you wrote it. the tone is casual and thoughtful and honest and philosophical and organized all at once. amazing work from an amazing writer <3

    over 1 year ago