METAHEMERALISM

losing a friend (for the one that got away) 1/3

part 2 , part 3

@frenchtoastlesbian //personalmessage.blogspot.com // @linguinereid // trista mateer // unknown // richard siken // ocean vuong “on earth we’re briefly gorgeous”// unknown // unknown

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A tumblr post by user frenchtoastlesbian, reading: losing people is so interesting because like. no i don’t want to speak to you ever again. yes i think about you on your birthday.

“The number of hours we have together is actually not so large. Please linger near the door uncomfortably instead of just leaving. Please forget your scarf in my life and come back later for it.”

A drawing of a book, with the words ‘it takes two to be a stranger’ on the cover.

A tumblr post by user linguinereid, reading: also today is my old best friends birthday (we just grew apart) and it’s so weird how you can go from talking every day to just sending a little “happy birthday! i hope this year treats you well!” to them. like i know everything about you, but also nothing.

I’d rather think of this / as a confession: / you are still the first person / I want to share new things with. 

Graffiti on a wall, reading: “If we ever stop talking.. Send me a song”

Sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them. - Richard Siken, Editor’s page: the long and the short (...)

A tumblr post from memoryslandscape, reading: “I miss you more than I remember you.” - Ocean Vuong, from On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (Penguin, 2019).

A handwritten note, reading: I always see stuff and think “oh you’d like this” / I hope that you see stuff and think that I would like them, too.

Maybe someday / we will be two /people meeting / again for the first time.

A tumblr post by coffeeacademia, reading: i find it so beautiful how we all read the same poetry and miss different people

Intergenerational trauma / mental illness

love as a place, a lover as a home

Dearest Gilly, Sometimes I feel there’s a hole inside of me, an emptiness that at times seems to burn. I think if you lifted my heart to your ear, you could probably hear the ocean. And the moon tonight, there’s a circle around it. A sign of trouble not far behind.

thoughts on trying to be great

Edit- I added the visualizer for this piece on my YT, check it out here

Francesca wanted a baby.

She had for quite some time, but it was only in recent months that she’d been able to admit as much to herself, to finally put words to the sense of longing that seemed to accompany her wherever she went.

[…]

But the pang had grown worse, into something more akin to an ache, when her sister Daphne had arrived in Scotland for a visit, all four of her children in tow. It hadn’t occurred to Francesca just how completely a gaggle of children could transform a home. The Hastings children had altered the very essence of Kilmartin, brought to it life and laughter that Francesca realized had been sadly lacking for years.

And then they left, and all was quiet, but it wasn’t peaceful.

Intergenerational trauma / mental illness

You said so yourself, her children would benefit from that money.

So, is that our lot then? To constantly sacrifice for our children? When does it stop? At our death?