and a solar storm raged
the sky to soft pink
in the garden I’d watered that morning.
We’d just agreed it was to be
our last summer here
Together, and we said
“I will remember this forever”
and meant it.
It was the week it felt my dreams began
and I bled through my underwear
on the way to the London show.
Discovered Jo was to die soon,
on the way to Sheffield.
It was 23 degrees in May
and my thighs wore shining
beads of sweat,
while I read that they’re going to drop bombs on Rafah
and cried to the red Robin
roosting in the ivy.
That week I felt so proud
And so ashamed.
So happy
And so sad.
That week i saw my idols live
and die.
Saw my nephew roll for the first time.
Asked my lover to move in,
trembling as I did.
I felt fear rip through my torso
as I rubbed tiger balm into my aching neck
and traced the silver sliver of the moon
with camphor scented fingers.
It was the week it all began
Or ended,
The week I saw Mitski live,
The week my dad fell off his bike,
The week Albini died,
The week I saw the Northern Lights
and cried and cried and cried,
The week before I turned 29.
- I wrote this on Saturday. Last week was the most mental week.
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the other day i went out to an unfinished nuclear plant with some old highschool friends. we cut a hole in the fence and ran to one of the massive, truly massive cooling towers. it was terrifyingly big, like really, seriously, huge. it was my third time there and definitely had not lost any of its effect on me. the four of us stood underneath it for a good forty minutes. looking up through the top to see the last touch of sunset resting on the rim, and later planets. we stood there for long stretches of silence until someone would shift their weight and the crunch of a couple pebbles underfoot would echo so loud and clear we could all hear it.
we sang there in the echo beneath the tower until it was totally dark.
later, in the front seat of my best friend‘s car as we played american football i cried. i don’t think anyone noticed, i think they were busy with whatever they were thinking about. i cried because of how long i had gone wanting this feeling. that i hadn’t seen these old friends in months and had been struggling to meet anyone i felt could be the kind of people i wanted to really love like i did my friends from highschool.
i want people to love so badly, to go to a sketchy abandoned nuclear plant and watch the sunset and sing together. we forget how long it takes to make friends like that i guess. it’s only been one semester, and i shouldn‘t let that be me down.
i love you all so much :)
Jan 29, 2025
🕯
This is a little long winded and personal. Please forgive me.
It's been exactly one year since my great aunt passed away - she was a pillar of the family, a very intelligent and witty woman whom we all loved. She used to cut out stories from the newspaper/ magazines and mail them to me while I lived away, and she had the most incredible handwriting I’ve ever seen. She was, to use one of her favorite things to call me, a “real mensch.”
Less than 48 hours after that, I got broken up with. We had been dating for almost two years. It was the healthiest relationship I had ever been in. Yet, we were laying in my teenage bedroom at my parents house, and she was crying. All I remember is thinking to myself “FIGHT for her you DUMB MOTHERFUCKER, you CAN’T lose another woman” - but I didn’t. I was scared. And just like that, the best year of my life came crashing down in spectacular fashion.
Two extremely hard hits at once.
I had to keep moving forward. I didn’t see any alternative. And as a result, I sank into what I can only describe as my own death spiral. Lots of cigs, lots of booze, lots of work, all to drown out the voices in my head telling me “maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
I didn’t allow myself to MOURN then. To feel sad, to feel loss, and to work it out constructively and communally. Now, a year later, I’m finally allowing myself to feel those emotions about both of those things. Finally crawling out of that death spiral. Mourning isn’t weakness, nor is grief.
Just…if you haven’t properly mourned something, anything, I recommend allowing yourself to. Keeping something like that inside, no matter how compartmentalized it may be, is a bad idea.
5d ago
I wrote this on my substack yesterday and I’m SO proud of it. I love finding the words randomly on a bus somewhere
Mar 11, 2024
Top Recs from @mouse
I used to be envious of people who had “MySpace friends” or “tumblr friends”. Now I have PI.FYI friends. Thank you capyboppy for your lovely letter and this illustration of a capybara and a mouse with fruit on our heads, it made me weirdly emotional ❤️
Jun 11, 2024
📣
is gig etiquette dead? Don’t go to a gig if you wanna just talk to your mates! go to a pub it’s what they’re for!
Dec 8, 2024
IT'S OUT MY RECORD IS OUT I LITERALLY AM CRYING. The culmination of 4 plus years of work. I'm...gonna go to bed now!
May 3, 2024