She Lives In The Poetry She Cannot Write

Hits hard darlings

characters whose philosophy is “if i cannot be wanted, i will be needed and if i cannot be needed, let me be used until there’s nothing left of me.” thank you for everyone’s attention. falls off stage and dies

23 august. Something is not right. There's a soul on my windowsill.

Been thinking about another William Faulkner quote lately:

“Read, read, read. Read everything — trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You’ll absorb it.

Then write. If it’s good, you’ll find out. If it’s not, throw it out of the window.”

A lot of my writing is about to be thrown out the window.

I'm sure someone has mentioned this before but did Henry's medication increase his state of boredom with the modern world? I've seen people mention that Henry seemed to be depressed and there are articles saying that phenobarbital (which he took for his headaches) can increase depressive disorder and suicidal ideation

These studies focused on kids with epilepsy and Henry didn't mention if he took this at a younger age but he did say he used to have more headaches when he was 13/14

And this is not me saying that the medication is the cause of his being I'm more just wondering what are the implications of the medication on the evolution of the character and the story. Like bestie Donna what did you mean

reading books in Latin, coffee stained papers, piles of books on the desk, spilled ink, wine bottles with a candle stick in it, cherry red lips, a very chaotic mind of new stanzas and creative work. Grecian artwork and statues that crumbled over time. revlon lipsticks and dior blush.

It's all about the smallest things. The smell of coffee and the warm feeling, when the sunshine touches your skin while it's freezing. Simple.

fuck wrapped, how obscure are yall

the older i get, the more i need time & personal space to be as boring as possible