-my Poem

listen. aging into your thirties rocks. yes your joints get a little creaky. yes you can’t sleep in a pretzel on the floor anymore after a concert or a convention. and you lose some friends. but the thing is that you sort out who your real friends are and you sort out who you really are. and you get to see your friends settling into careers they like, and adopt new dogs and cats, and you find a job you can stand, and get really good at arts and crafts, and maybe that book you loved as a kid gets a movie deal and it doesn’t suck, and you learn to like new food and bake your own bread, and you realize that the great portfolio of self harm scars you all used to curate are going white with age and not updated, and half your friends are a different gender now and so much happier and maybe you are too, and you know who you are, and that it’s a journey and not a revelation. it’s a direction you’re headed, and you’re enjoying the trip.

reaching your 30′s rocks. and i’m hearing good things about what comes next, too.

The boss has arrived ...

here you go professor. several pages of home brewed bullshit. as opposed to the chatgpt-brewed bullshit you're used to these days. i hope u enjoy it i worked very hard on it ❤️

-Zoë Lianne

It feels criminal how little of a fandom this webtoon has. It has taken my world by storm. I am obsessed. I have so many theories, and I have done so much analysis on the characters and the story. It actually got me writing (I don't write narratives, this is the first in like 6 years, longer if we're talking not assigned), I did not forsee that happening. Anyways, go read Post Harbor, and hmu if you want to talk about it. I would love to hear your takes.

Kate Baer, from And Yet: Poems; “Idea”

[Text ID: “I will enjoy this life. I will open it like a peach in season, suck the juice from every finger, run my tongue over my chin. I will not worry about clichés or uninvited guests peering in my windows. I will love and be loved. Save and be saved a thousand times. I will let the want into my body, bless the heat under my skin. My life, I will not waste it. I will enjoy this life.”]

Hope wins every time the sun peaks over the horizon after a long dark night, it softens the day and baths the ground, it warms the air and we breath easier and maybe our souls uncurl a little from that protective crouch we've grown used to, maybe we let our limbs loosen, maybe we let hope sink into our skin, maybe we let it melt our misery from within.

how is it mario day and no one posted the essay

Hey can i rip your wings off? Haha sorry that was wierd. Can i tear your halo from your head? Haha omg that was so random. Can i tear the divinity from your wretched form, removing you from the guiding hand and will of that which made you? Can i supplant your divine spark with wires and cables? Can i replace your golden halo with a golden circuitboard? Hypothetically