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"This is how colonialism works. It convinces us that the fallout from resistance is entirely our fault, that the immoral choice is resistance itself rather than the circumstances which demanded it."
- R.F Kuang, Babel
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NOPE (Jordan Peele) / Regarding the Pain of Others (Susan Sontag)
Anonymous asked:
What inspires you to write?
hi! oh my gosh uni has been crazy i've barely been on here so this must have been from rly long ago, my apologies,,, i also haven't written in very long but some of the pieces i've written in the past were inspired by my own experiences & emotions (& i just needed a medium to express them or to let people who are going through the same thing know that they're not alone), and some of my pieces have actually been inspired by other media, mythology etc!
but right now, what's inspiring me to get back into writing is mainly one of my close friends who sent me this:
this made me realise that some of my pieces (this one they mentioned was about dealing with homophobia) really have been able to leave some sort of impact on people - whether it be empowering them, inspiring them or just helping them feel less alone, and that's currently what's pushing me to get back into writing once finals are over :)
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Vladimir Nabokov, Letters to Véra
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Nicole Sealey, from Ordinary Beast
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6/26/22 // alm
[up close i can see all the texture in your face / the variance in the colors of your eyes / braced one hand on the nape of your neck / my arms cast like nets or tethers / said i’m going to marry you someday / & you said it back but what i meant was / please what i meant was in this bed, / in my first apartment, you kissed me / and i thought, fuck. i can never kiss / anyone else ever again. and may that / be true. may i never have to. / all these threads you’ve tangled / throughout my life, webbing you to me / what i meant was i can imagine no future / without your hand on my back, thumb warming / my spine, walking back to the car. / i mean everything feels monumental / & also stupid. love is so ridiculous / and i want us to have as much of it as we can
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Ada Limón, The Great Blue Heron of Dunbar Road
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It’s all for you; everything I do.
Gabriela Mistral, from a letter to Doris Dana ( @liriostigre ) Strawberry Blond, Mitski (art by @fridayiminlovemp3 ) | A Little Life, Hanya Yanagihara ( @hjarta ) | Untitled, @8bitfiction | The House of Love, Adonis ( @angesirene )
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[id: a poem that reads: “I am carrying a dog in my hands / & every time I think of you / another dog appears in my hands. / I always think I won’t be able / to carry any more dogs & then I / think of you & another dog / appears & it looks like i can do / what I thought I couldn’t do. / I know how this is going to end. / I will die surrounded by the ones / I love and the ones I love will be / all the dogs I carried & will still / be carrying. & you will be there / & I will die & the dogs will / not die & every thought I have / ever had of you will go running / into the world & the world / will know how close I carried you.” / - dalton day]
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The Body (Stephen King) // The Attempt (Magdaléna Platzová, tr. by Alex Zucker) // Beartown (Fredrik Backman) // Falling Faster Than You Can Run (Nathaniel Rateliff) // Slade House (David Mitchell) // Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy // Prince of Darkness (Indigo Girls)
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“Letters from Medea”- Salma Deera
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He asked me when I fell in love with him and I knew it sounded dramatic to say the moment I saw him, so I told him this story of my grandma who had Alzheimer's- she forgot her name and the words for fruit and food, she forgot her address and how to use the washroom, all her life lost to the disease. The only thing she remembered was her son's name and when that began to fade, the one thing she always remembered was that she loved him, even in illness, even in insanity. She saw this 6 foot 2 man with a scrubby beard and she didn't know him but she said she trusted him, she asked him to hold her hand when she died. When does memory end and love begin? All I know is- she loved him before she remembered him.
-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire