#prattlings

To sing is victory

——

“Is it ruined?”

“No, “ said the mole,

“Look at the music. It often comes through where things are broken”

—

“The boy is often anxious and deeply loves them all. He is terrified of losing them.”

—

“There seems to be a lot to achieve in this life, but I think just to be here and to sing your song is a victory.”

—Always Remember by Charlie Mackesy

I won’t lie I picked up the book because it was in a wonky spot. And then it looked like something that would make me cry. So I got it.

And cry it made me.

You should read it if you get the chance.

Song rec - Let me not by Hollis

Save that shit for private if anything smh

the ants under my skin

they’ve made my place of rest a foraging ground

they march in line until they find what is being looked for and then swarm

have you ever seen ants work together?

an annoyance. a pest.

yet I’ve seen them swarm living baby birds that have fallen from their nest.

and they were successful.

of course - how can one being fight against hundreds of small ones, persistent ones at that?

they trail on me.

I can feel them.

yet there is not a single one there.

maybe I’m simply insane. maybe just a stressed human being. maybe I need a vacation.

uhm anyway enjoy song rec (note for like, biting sounds if that’s an ick)

Hello to my head - Stella Gray

When you’re running out of time

And the end is getting near?

Do we run?

Hide?

Let the time tick by?

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

So much do to.

So little you can.

Do you even know where you’re going?

Left?

Right?

Up?

Down?

Or are you staying put?

In the familiar?

Be warned that claws grab at your heels here

Trying to pull you down

down

down

uhm insert rawr ecks d

Oh I’ve been doing song recs with these right yeah?

the rot//rot by inuday

You’re the reason I don’t sleep

You’re the rot, rot

Agony is seeping through your teeth

Days.

Weeks.

Months.

Messages gone unanswered.

Hundreds.

Months of work dipped out on.

Half a year, really.

There were lame excuses at the start.

Some sporadic work here and there.

See? I’m not dropping the ball.

See? I can manage.

Don’t you see?

Don’t you?

But now it’s been about six months.

And I feel like we all just are going about our business, knowing and pretending.

Pretending that I am not hiding behind an invisible grey dot.

That I cannot bring myself to look at something that became a part of me.

Because talking to them means facing the idea that I do not know who I am anymore.

Perhaps they leave me in the chats in hope.

That maybe, one day, I’ll come back.

Time ticks by. Thoughts race.

A blink. Sigh. Movement out the corner of the eye.

A momentary distraction taken as a chance to escape.

You look back. I don’t.

Neither one of us will ever start. We will sit in silence until the end.

Looking at each other

Out of the window