Rec | RUMINATING

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Something like: I’ll die if I never learn how many girls your mother knew about after the first date, and am I still the only gringa in her mind, and did it feel like something out of another life for you too, or was that just me, and do you ever think about the last bench we sat on, do you think anything about anything at all, and are you even still in this country, and how could Raisinets possibly be someone's favorite candy, and how do I make the good dreams stop, and are you happy, or were you ever, or would I have made you if you just let me, and how do I fill in the blanks for myself, how can I give up caring so deeply, and why should i, for that matter, when these are the only things I care so deeply about, and if I write well enough, would it make you regret it, and if yes, how could I get you to read the words, and how many were there, and what was the moment, and do all the questions cling to you too, or did even one, even just for a minute, and is it wasted time waiting, would I have had you if I had the means, or smarter parents, or one less percentage of body fat, or if I had waited, if I had just waited, and has anyone since made you finish faster, and did they do what you wanted because it’s what they wanted too, or only because you asked, and will I ever listen to Ravel without wanting to cry, or read the word purpose without wondering if you ever managed to figure it out, or look at a mollusk again without thinking of you as a child, small enough to hold, in miniature trousers and wire-rimmed glasses — the only version of you I can ever imagine — lying sunlit on a lily pad inside a castle made of glass, and one day, one day will I learn to stop asking questions that no one, no one who will ever read them, could possibly understand? And how would it feel to have all the answers? I swear I’ll die if I never know ... Anyways y'all should try it.

@caseyy

Mar 24, 2024

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on numbness

you know what i find really interesting? that i’ve never not started a big little post like this without the words “you know what i find really interesting”? anyone who has ever met me has been a victim of this same quote, with no fault of their own, i am but a broken record “the entirety of your life is either waiting for the really good things or the really bad things” (my father) you know what i find really interesting? numbness. not it’s presence , not its absence, rather the fact it exists at all. i am moved by the fact i can be moved i often wonder if i have felt the entirety of emotions possible my disposal have i ever really been in love? can i look upon you with tears in your eyes and say, definitively, i know how you feel? is your happiness mine? do you understand my desires as i understand yours? i am but words on a screen and pixels that stand before you in their own right, words that are not contingent on your comprehension yet secretly hope and pray they do not fall on deaf ears. i do not need your validation, but i want it. tell me i am beautiful, or smart, or that the funny words i use are any different than another teenage girls, tell me you know too what it is like to be numb, and sad, and happy, and hungry. why do we write? why do we express? to remind you that i too am human, grappling with my own mortality every day? am i writing for you?

@22

Feb 11, 2025

😃

“GRADUATING”

In threefold lives and twofold tears I hold my breath but I can’t pretend it’s not happening anymore. I keep finding myself saying “we’re graduating” again and again with no intonation because I truly don’t know what to feel. Maybe it’s a manifestation or maybe it’s just a recognition of the eventual, the eventuality of the end of the various hues I’ve been painted with at scad. In my minds eye lives a collage of all of the people whom I’ve cherished for four, (or five years if you count dual enrollment), to say I love them is an egregious understatement. To say I will miss them is simply diminishing an actuality. With me I carry this collage of love it keeps me warm when I am cold, and tender when I am stone. I helped me grow into my bones. Seen me and shone, people I’ve adored. I leave this place adorn with knowledge and love and a want for more. Chest heave practical in armor, holding onto the alternate dream of me, hoping, hoping for an offer, offering a life I am to live, if I just turn and run, if I just turn and run this time, lime green coconut leaves, spotted bedroom sheets, but the change is making me feel like i’ve already tried to hold myself a million little times, I try again, felicity in the way I falter, tell you endlessly, screaming colors of the ocean, push me in I adore it, let me live, I pour it out, strangers color me in the night, pieces of each of our mind, in a way we see each other demise each time, turn in, torn into sequins, sequential nightmares, its going to just end, in a way that I sink through the sun, into I construe again, I was just eighteen when I started this, made some friends I cherish, even, even if I lose them, I’ll still have a memory, of my beloveds smiling back at me, seen me grow, seen me weak, bleeding in through my knees, crying on their shoulders, painful hollow little laughter, walking through a tunnel, holding onto each other, I’ll love them like no other like a dream, no other could it be, in my perfect dream, many lifetimes lived with thee.

@fern_poppy

May 4, 2025

🫀

Loneliness is better!

Loneliness prevails! I would much rather live purely in solitude for ever and ever than waste another precious second in the presence of someone who has little skin in the game of knowing me or seeing me. Hearing me! I wonder why you keep me around if all your hearts desire is to hear the sound of your own voice. It makes no difference if it’s me or anyone for that matter. For all you know or even care I am merely an ottoman for you to rest your feet on, or a coffee table meant simply to pedestal your various notebook scrawlings and half-read books. I am a file cabinet. I have it here, dated, what you Thought and what you felt about work, or about your friends. ask me, I have it all. And I loved it. I loved knowing you. I wanted to. I investigated and interrogated. I poured over it all with great curiosity, praying for all my red threads to weave a tapestry of you. but I can’t remember the last time you asked me something about myself. When the opportunity arises, and god forbid, I Take it, you can barely hold your breath. Its like a shark sensing blood. You just can’t wait to talk talk talk talk talk. But hey, it’s your life, and baby, I’m just living in it.