βΒ Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β πΊπΈπ½πΆ π³πΎπ½'π π²ππ, πΊπΈπ½πΆ π³πΎπ½'π π³πΈπ΄. Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βΊΒ Β Β selective and private, penned by victoria.
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βΒ Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β πΊπΈπ½πΆ π³πΎπ½'π π²ππ, πΊπΈπ½πΆ π³πΎπ½'π π³πΈπ΄. Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βΊΒ Β Β selective and private, penned by victoria.

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ANNE CARSON SENTENCE PROMPTS
i. Β quotes taken from various prose by anne carson. adjust as necessary.
β Β as long as you want, and all that you want.Β β
β Β i am someone who did not die when i should have died.Β β
β Β i remember exactly how i thought life would be. Β β
β Β why are you so in love with things unbearable? Β β
β Β i conversed with you in a dream. Β β
β Β lie down and tell me about it. Β β
β Β humans in love are terrible. Β β
β Β desire is no light thing. Β β
β Β your bitter heart heals my heart. Β β
β Β gods are stubborn. so am i. Β β
β Β memory is exhausting. Β β
β Β anger is a bitter lock. but you can turn it. Β β
β Β beauty of the heart and the mind are things that are cultivated.Β β
β Β you cannot make me stop thinking. Β β
βΒ some conversations are not about what theyβre about. Β β
βΒ but you know none of us is pure. Β β
βΒ there is something maddeningly attractive about the untranslatable. Β β
βΒ what chance do we have for a bit of attention?Β β
β Β but dreams have ensavaged me. Β β
βΒ you are in pain, so what?Β β
β Β love does not make me gentle or kind. Β β
β Β my mind is burning. Β β
β Β girls are cruelest to themselves. Β β
βΒ i wanted to know you.Β β
β Β i do not want to be a person. i want to be unbearable.Β β
β Β i will do anything to avoid boredom. Β β
β Β i am interested in anger. Β β
β Β not ashamed to say i loved him for his beauty. as i would again.Β β
βΒ this would be hard for you if you were weak, but you are not weak. Β β
Β Β Β Β Β βΊΒ Β Β Β Β ππ°π½π³πΎπΌ πππ°πππ΄πΒ Β ft.Β Β @shieldedsoldier
he is a body martyred from baptismal waters, with their weight drenching his clothes, clinging to his skin. or perhaps, their weight soaking his skin. seeping, sleeping in the pores, with the mechanism of a forgotten religion ticking like a clockwork in the background. heβs done believing, heβs done devoting. thereβs a form of ennui blooming against the back of his mind as he recalls what it tasted like to trust, and then, and then, and then, what it tasted like to lie. he likes the latter better. perhaps itβs the subdued peroxide that litters his mouth, rinsing it off the dissidents imprisoned among his tooth gaps. either way, thereβs no hope in beliefs. no church in the wild, as they all once said.
whatβs a god to a non-believer? naught, it all comes down to zero sum. still, the man that becomes the aftermath of this christening world carries the same slouch on his globed shoulders. does he still believe in forgiveness? he doesnβt know, but perhaps, just perhaps, steve does. thereβs a chapel in the crux of steveβs chest, constructed fully out of broken bones, ruptured veins. he doesnβt think time altered the man even when itβs grappled to do so. both men out of time, but he still peruses as time tries bending steveβs spine, the same way that it tries restructuring his crooked limbs. it cannot, it simply cannot. there are so many rooted equations that even the universe canβt bend. time is a moot factor, now. cryostasis is the brand new currency, paying priests with its askew smiles as they wonder, whatβs after life? heaven, hell, anything in-between? liminal penitence that serves nothing of the injustice done in the mundane world... he doesnβt believe thereβs justification to menβs conducts. cruelties forged out of malice that even the infernal flames cannot even out.
however, cares none of these for the time being. heβs still fresh from a manβs jaws, their teething battles exchanged in the swallowed silence that now has become so absolute it hurts his ears. around steveβs hips, the viscera of his fingerprints are still inscribed. like verses, choruses. elegies that died far too quick for his liking, but their deaths were prescribed. like pills that did nothing to him, helping him sleep. downed them with vodka as he smoked more cigarettes. and now that he doesnβt depend on them like a lifeline anymore, heβs left awake. six years, and still running from his mind. running in his mind. heβd seen people die ( mother, mother ), and this one feels like it every time. memories always ripple like millions of fine needles; and as the quiet slips into dissonance when steve rustles amidst the sheets, he looks at the silhouettes in the depth of adjusted darkness. the only thing that lights the room would be the crepuscular slivers that slip in, as well as the edge of the burning ember. pinched between his index and thumb is his cigarette, half-smoked. looks at steve, feeling the minuscule gravity of the iron in steveβs body.Β β morning,Β β greets nonchalantly.
πΈ π°πΌ π΅ππ°π½πΊπ΄π½πππ΄πΈπ½'π πΌπΎπ½πππ΄π. π°π½π³ πΈ π°πΌ π»πΎπΎπΊπΈπ½πΆ π΅πΎπ πΌπ π²ππ΄π°ππΎπ. Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β π΄ππΈπΊ π»π΄π·π½ππ·π΄ππ πΌπ°πΆπ½π΄ππΎ. πΈπ½π³πΈπ΄ ππΎπ»π΄πΏπ»π°π π°π²π²πΎππ½π.

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π·π΄π°π³π²π°π½πΎπ½: πΎπ½ π΄ππΏπ΄ππΈπΌπ΄π½ππ.
first experiment that was conducted on him occurred at auschwitz, performed by dr. sebastian shaw for a little over a year. the team tried restraining him back even with the command to release all prisoners. researches were ceased, but this one never truly ended, funded by shawβs obsession over mutants, namely homo superiors. it wasnβt until later that he found out shaw used some of his genes to improve and generate abilities, and that caused him irate. this first experiment did not make a tremendous impact inwardly, apart from the fact that he was strained to an extent where he thought it was his maximum upon witnessing his motherβs death. it wasnβt, turned out, but he didnβt find out until later.
second and last befell him for the longest time; in 1965, upon being prison broken, allowed to escape from the jail by a group of rogue that was a successor of shaw, he was locked into another researchβs purpose. this time, it was to extract and dissect his genes for the purpose of continuing shawβs quest in finding what made a mutant, a mutant. he started being put under cryostasis to ensure that he would live long enough for the researchβs continuity, and in 1972, upon his umpteenth conscious moment, he was injected with the acquisition from weapon xβs programmes: adamantium. he accidentally bent a bone in his shin, creating a gash and a ton of pain that only receded after a long period of time. he was injected with wolverineβs regenerative healing factor genes, although it was to little avail. they attempted to create a perfect mutant out of him before extracting his essence to create a generation of his offsprings, but he broke out of the facility in 2012, and started his vengeance since. full extents of the experimentsβ results are still unknown to this date.
T Magazine (2015)