Latest Posts by oxenfreee - Page 2
cis people ask boring & stupid questions pt ii by silas denver melvin (@sweatermuppet) click for better quality (tip me) (buy my book)
[Text ID: why did you choose to be trans?
bird roosting in a place where birds are not permitted to fly. shot from sky like a clay pigeon. puff of feathers then red then inevitable thump. seems so standard to us. we forget birds cannot read the signs. birds will fly above barbed wire to dangers twice as excellent & think nothing of it.
do your parents know?
a plate shattering to shreds in the kitchen. my mother, knelt in her flour white apron, picking up the pieces. pricked by a sliver of glass so small & clean, it can't be seen until it is outlined by her blood. her blood. her blood. her blood.
do they love you?
vernix wax veil. brown-eyed babe crowning. homicidal crow on the window still looking in. what is family, if not a well of blood we dip bread into? a rusted bucket we explain to lovers. a pack of mongrels eating the runt. a bird splintering into asphalt.
does your name have any meaning?
dusty book cover. bastard son. forest swallowing boy cast out. silence. silken. simple as a bent thimble. obedient dog coughing up bird bones.
have you had the surgery?
a clot plume caught on the apron tail. impolite mess. dog teeth pinching the licked stitches. tea cup an inch from the edge. the bird preens until the feathers fall out in fat clumps. strange little wreckage. isn't it?
don't you think it's too soon to decide?
all the bird knew was a good spot to roost. all the plate knew was reaction: how to be an obedient victim to gravity.
i have a friend who is trans. do you know them?
we all want to give things veins. make the stupid human, or otherwise monster. paint rivers into open mouths. we all want to find a love that is warmer than it is wet. a hole in the fence we can slip right through. this magic escape that allows us the illusion of freedom, for at least a moment. congregating like ejected bullet casings. touch hands or break bread to distract from the cities burning in the next room. & in the doorway, every time, my mother. her blood. her blood. her blood. /End ID]
getting into the shower: evil evil evil
being in the shower: there is no past and there is no future, there is just the here and now, i am alone but i am not lonely, i am calm and one with the universe, existence is sublime
getting out of the shower: evil evil evil (wet version)
really need someone to slonk my shit rn stupid style
arent L + ratio those guys from death note
at this point i feel like being on the verge of war is going out of style… like i know its been trendy for the past few years but it’s starting to feel SO passé
What do you mean I have to understand economic policy? Isn’t being hot and sexy enough?
Dark Academia Books for Students of Politics and International Relations:
I mean, heck, I am no expert but my need to see this niche ass post is a lot so here goes.
The Prince: Machiavelli- do I NEED to explain this one. Its a seminal text in politics and political philosophy and when you listen to the ideas described in it they can sound a little crazy but once you read it you realise they are still crazy but grounded in something very real. Also its short as heck and an easy read.
Politics among Nations: The Struggle for Power and Peace- Hans J Morgenthau. I had to pick this one up for my coursework last semester and I thought it would be a snooze fest but no. I was drawn in and I haven’t finished it since but I do plan to get back to it at my leisure.
The End of History and the Last Man: Francis Fukuyama- YES, I fundamentally disagree with Fukuyama on so many points. YES, it is still one of my favourite books of all time. it is a very riveting discussion of political philosophy, history and international relations. If you are interested in any of those topics, pick it up. You won’t regret it.
How Democracy Ends: David Runciman- captivatingly written, great arguments, and a very unique voice. Super relevant in today’s international political atmosphere and if you are interested in studying the rise of right wing authoritarian governments across the globe, this is a great place to start.
Thomas Hobbes: Leviathan- another one that I just feel like i don’t need to explain. Again haven’t read it fully yet, but its quite chill inducing and the basis for most of the contemporary discussion on state, liberalism, authoritarianism, rights and so forth.
These were just my recommendations, and I by no means claim that they cover the entire gamut of the field. In fact, I would consider myself a noob still where texts relating to politics or IR are concerned, so feel free to give your recommendations and opinions as well!
im joining the sleep war on the side of bed and blanky
this is scaring me like my heart is beating so fast
if u dont mind id love to know more of ur fav poems :-) trying to get into reading more poetry
missing persons by sam sax
ode to prince by hanif abdurraqib
social skills training by solmaz sharif
men by maya angelou
DL N8 4 3SOME by jake skeets
having a coke with you by frank o'hara
jubilate homo by ellen bass
carpet bomb by kenyatta rogers
border patrol agent by eduardo c corral
heart condition by jericho brown
tell me something good by ocean vuong
letter to S, hospital by emily skaja
we lived happily during the war by ilya kaminsky
long division by matthew dickman
the american security against foreign enemies act by lucie brock-broido
you will never get death out of a system by dana levin
letter to chi by franny choi
14 lines from love letters or suicide notes by doc luben
said the confederate flag to the american flag by RJ walker
worms by shyla hardwick
blood makes the blade holy by evan knoll
the 17 year old & the gay bar by danez smith
mountain dew commercial disguised as a love poem by matthew olzmann
i’m a raging bisexual.
as in, i am extremely angry at all times. and also bisexual.
L + ratio + i have feelings for you
WELCOME TO THE WANTING. IT IS HEAVY HERE. (cc: @jonismitchell)
caption: The Wanting, @jonismitchell // Água Viva, Clarice Lispector // Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen // x // Imitation of Life (1959) // South London Forever, Florence and the Machine // Plainwater: Essays and Poetry, Anne Carson // All Too Well, Taylor Swift // New York Movie, Edward Hopper // Reading too much into a Tongue bite by Me // I want you to Love Me, Fiona Apple // IWYTLM genius annotation // Ada Limón on Preparing the Body for a Reopened World // The Unabridged journals of Sylvia Plath // He Held Radical Light: the Art of Faith, the Faith of Art, Christian Wiman // x // Hunger, Florence and the Machine // Eye Level: Poems, Jenny Xie // Big God, Florence and the Machine // Ada Limón // Emily Dickinson correspondences with Sue // Sharks in the River, Ada Limón // x // Nobody, Mitski // I will name this tragedy after you by Me // Litany in which certain things are crossed out, Richard Siken //
“this pillow works better if your a back sleeper” bitch I’m a rotisserie chicken sleeper I don’t stop turning until sleep rips me forcefully from this world
nov 4 2021 — silas denver melvin
click for better quality
[Text ID: i view each day only as another grave plot ive yet to pour cement into we're all waiting for our dead to catch up to us i like being a man but not when my father's around i think if my grandpa survived any longer, he would have learned to hate me i joke about being the runt of the family i upright the angels at the cemetery i tell people this because i want to be loved i do bad things my neurotic behavior rivals a trapped bird my heart resembles a bruised burial all i know is my mother doesn't want to be cremated i talk to none of my cousins my uncles wouldn't be able to pick me out of a lineup even my nana didn't understand my ma tried to teach me shame so i wouldn't get hurt i got hurt anyway if it's a game, im losing if i was meant to live this long, i think god is wasteful ive got no legacy ive got no idea what i want to do when i die /End ID]
'im going to kill myself' arent even words anymore they are like brothers to me
hi silas,
i recently got my copy of grit and loved it thoroughly. i'm on a bit of a reading kick and was wondering if you had any recommendations of gay and/or trans poets (aside from the classic siken/andrea gibson/mary oliver et al. camp, much as i love them) if this is a faq my apologies but i would love to hear your thoughts! thanks for being my cool and talented mutual :)
paul tran, sam sax, jake skeets, tommy pico, jericho brown, danez smith, hieu minh nguyen, franny choi, olivia gatwood, saeed jones, torrin a greathouse, ellen bass, cameron awkward-rich, ocean vuong, natalie diaz, chen chen, frank o'hara, audre lorde
here's a list of my fav poems
& a beginner's list of "easy" but enjoyable poetry books
both lists have links on each poem/collection that will direct you to a place to read that poetry for free
Put an egg in your ramen. Put scallions in your ramen. Put chili oil in your ramen. Put kewpie Mayo in your ramen. But nori in your ramen. Put tofu in your ramen. Put miso paste in your ramen. Put mushrooms in your ramen.
trans women r literally so cool theu get tits AND a prostate?? i thought only markilpler could do that
amogus would be a beautiful baby boy roman name
angels, deciding what shape to take when interacting with The Humans: well….eye contact is important to humans, right? they find it reassuring when they can see the eyes of the person they’re talking to. so if we have LOTS of eyes, in very visible places, that’ll be even MORE reassuring
You know what you really need is an English countryside murder mystery mashup with a splatterpunk supernatural horror movie. Think of it as the Re-Animator of Algernon Blackwood.
You got your level proper countryside Midsommer Murders group of coppers, only now they're not dealing with vengeful old aunties but the rage of nature itself, the raw an unchecked anger of the land given life, the darkness of the woods, the deep sunk pain of rocks and roots. The metaphysical embodiment of natural spirits takes the form of trees, growing form nowhere inside quiet drawing room, through the aging and satisfied ladies at gossip, ripping their bodies into bloody chunks of gore and offal.
But the steadfast inspectors stay at the same level despite investigating crime scenes like the aftermath of an Evil Dead movie, unflappably seeking out the mundane clues leading nowhere and puttering about at home with loving wife and doting daughter. For each tangle of thorns stretched over with gruesome skin and impaled bodies, for each body consumed alive by locusts, for the houses swallowed by earth leaving nothing but a blood soaked skeleton behind, life trundle onward undisturbed.
Which is not to say the protagonist is undisturbed. A historian and preservationist, they're seeking to maintain and increase the records for right if way paths throughout England, much to the annoyance of various gentleman about this quiet country town beside by horror and death. And it falls to them to make the discovery that the right of way paths are not as they're meant to be, no, it seems there's been some moving of landmarks and stone boundaries, an offsetting of the path letting lands fall increasingly into private hands.
Yet those paths and stones and markers were not merely guides. They were lines, sigils, locks and gates to hold back the will of the woods from the lands of men. For a time. For just a small but fair space. A trade of stewardship and watchful wards, but men long forgot the promise of caretaking or what the wards kept at bay.
And now they are paying, as the historian struggles to find the means to close the way. And the steadfast inspector begins to uncover a land grabbing plot. And as time counts down the fae and green and deep eldritch magic of old reaches shadows further into the tidy little village. It may have survived countryside murders for decades, but it will be lucky to last a week under these conditions.
there is a horse loose in the (children’s) hospital
to anyone who missed it:
blorbo - a favourite character
glup shitto - star wars names are fucking nonesense
eeby deeby - youre going to hell
plinko horse - a horse that was stuck in a plinko board
scrimblo bimblo - super smash bro fans can be very angry when characters aren't in a game
hi my name is Eeby Deeby Blorbo H'rse Plinko Glup Shitto and i have blue hair and pronouns
When it comes to honourifics, don’t call me mr or ms, instead yell COMRADE in a Russian accent.
i listen to catholics. not the clergy, not the congregation, but the queer, the abused, the rejects, and the rejectors. i fall in love with how they reclaim catholic imagery. i see them make art from the blood they’re still bleeding and it feels familiar in a way that makes me realize maybe i’m bleeding too.
angels had never called me. they were too perfect, too pure. i am messy and wounded and mean. i have sharp teeth and pointy horns and leathery wings pushing through my shoulder blades. but here, in the church of the damned, angels have a predator’s wingspan and eyes that don’t blink and feet that step on snakes in the grass. they have flaming swords and silent mouths. what a terrible, wonderful thing, to admire the blade that cuts you.
it hurts and i love it. i fold my bloody hands together, right and left. i scale the fence out of eden. i stare at the heavenly light until my vision clouds. i clutch tight my rosary until it leaves marks in my palm.
Modern Christians are so weak. Earlier this afternoon I mentioned to my mom that I was wanting a skull tattoo and she said "oh that's disgusting and satanic. Christians don't associate with skulls."
Ok besides the fact that half of Christians wear metal depictions of a man being executed, Christians historically have always been strange and macabre. It's sort of what comes out of a religion that claims to eat the flesh and drink the blood of a God who was dead for three days.
Look at this church. Normal, right?
No. This is a church literally decorated entirely with human bones. Here's the chandelier:
It's called the Sedlec Ossuary, located in Kutna Hora, Czechia and is adorned with the bones of an estimated 40,000-70,000 people. (They weren't killed for this purpose, but were dug up from their Graves.)
Imagine taking the Eucharist here, eating Christ's body and drinking Christ's blood, while staring eye-to-empty-eye-socket at a real human skull. Horrifying.
That cross on the wall has 17 skulls. Seventeen human heads. That's metal as fuck.
