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me and fucking who

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Alice Notley // Warsan Shire
Yannis Ritsos, trans. by Kimon Friar, from a poem featured in "Erotica: Love Poems,"

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Danez Smith, Don't Call Us Dead
PROMPTS FROM NORMAL PEOPLE * assorted dialogue from the book by sally rooney, some lines slightly changed to suit a roleplay format, adjust as necessary
i'm not a religious person, but i do sometimes think god made you from me.
i have a sense that real life is happening somewhere far away, happening without me, and i don't know if i will ever found out where it is or become part of it.
no one can be independent of other people completely.
life offers up these moments of joy despite everything.
he probably won't come back.
what we have now, we can never have back again.
for me, the pain of loneliness will be nothing to the pain i used to feel, of being unworthy.
we've done a lot of good for each other.
people can really change one another.
you should go. i'll always be here. you know that.
generally i find men are a lot more concerned with limiting the freedoms of women than exercising personal freedom for themselves.
most people go through their whole lives without ever really feeling that close with anyone.
life is the thing you bring with you inside your own head.
even in memory, i will always find that moment unbearably intense.
i have never believed i'm fit to be loved by any person.
yes. that was it. the beginning of my life.
it's funny the decisions you make because you like someone.
your whole life is different.
i think we're at that weird age where life can change a lot from small decisions.
if people appear to behave pointlessly in grief, it's only because human life is pointless, and this is the truth that grief revealed.
i don't know what's wrong with me.
i don't know why i can't be like normal people.
it feels powerful to put an experience down in words.
people are a lot more knowable than they think they are.
there's always been something inside me that men have wanted to dominate.
i want my life to mean something.
a lot of the literary people in college see books primarily as a way of appearing cultured.
that's the only part of myself i want to protect, the part that exists inside you.
there's something so corrupt and sexy about it.
i wish you didn't have to go.
i wish you could stay the night.
life offers up these moments of joy despite everything.
literature moves me.
it almost sounds sexual.
you learn nothing very profound about yourself simply by being bullied.
it's time you'll never get back.
time is real. the money is also real.
we've done a lot of good for each other.
the snow keeps falling.
hopefully i have changed, you know, as a person. but honestly, if i have, it's because of you.
he does have immaculate taste.
it's not like this with other people.
[name], would you ever fuck off?
you lean in expecting resistance, and everything just falls away in front of you.
i would lie down and die for you at any minute.
sometimes, someone will make eye contact with me, like a bus conductor or a person looking for change, and i'll feel shocked that anyone can actually see me.
we could be in a room full of people and my eyes would always meet yours, just to find that you had already been looking.
there's something comforting about it, something good about feeling sort of numb, detached from it all.
it was different with you, didn't have to play any games with you. it was just real.
no one is ever gonna hurt you like that again. everything's gonna be all right. trust me.
i love you, and i'm not gonna let anything like that happen to you again.
we have done so much good for one another.
Tumblr is so nice. I can be boring and useless here in peace
New York. Julia Gillard.

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dangerous as any beautiful unfinished thing