Things That Make You Go Rawr

An experiment in drowning in words. Ask/Messages

Anonymous asked: I was confused about all of the tweets leading up to that one, too.

Why are you asking me anonymous questions about it on Tumblr…?

Anonymous asked: What did you mean by this: twitter(.)com/PurpleLikeRawr/status/545295689333620736

did you read the other tweets leading up to that?

dcu:
“ Hey, Mista J…
”
They put my Halloween Costume on Daily DCU and it got a lot of love! Thanks, everyone. =)

dcu:

Hey, Mista J…

They put my Halloween Costume on Daily DCU and it got a lot of love! Thanks, everyone. =)

(Source: dcu)

Cold War (Depression Via Art Via Depression)

cyberkinatic:

Rich and darkly, core secure

in imbalance, limbs loose

tumbling down a hundred drafts

to a thousand poems, each of which

once contained night, sky, chiaroscuro words—

every instance erased, leaving

thick residue, stale odor,

gray between the black and white,

melodrama hung clumsily

in…

Pssst I still have a new blog. Still check it out.

Philiphobia

cyberkinatic:

Periodically, my body laments its complexity,

longs to be made of simpler machines

like a pile of gears, tooth-

to-tooth touching and maybe moving

each other, but maybe, just counting,

in solitude, how many beautiful things

they’d managed to despise,

how many things they will love

from heated, hated spaces with each tick,

each rotation, roiling in the space

between here and caring contact;

it is too whole, too human, not to romanticize

the things that it has shed to time and fear.

Psst I have a new blog. Check it out.

Cold War (Depression Via Art Via Depression)

Rich and darkly, core secure

in imbalance, limbs loose

tumbling down a hundred drafts

to a thousand poems, each of which

once contained night, sky, chiaroscuro words—

every instance erased, leaving

thick residue, stale odor,

gray between the black and white,

melodrama hung clumsily

in unintended echoes;

constellations of lovely nothings.

An almost shame; partly

black lace and lips, waterfalls

to the edge of existence; otherwise

partly, a filter in which everything to say

becomes nothing to communicate.

Universe orbiting me while I meanwhile

make the sun mean nothing,

throwing empty words at space

until art doesn’t happen, and stop

too soon, because art doesn’t happen,

and too late, because art doesn’t happen,

and right on time, at which point art doesn’t happen

and not trying to art but not reaching any otherwise goals,

and still, art doesn’t happen.

Page passes, incomplete returns,

paper becomes graveyard, tongue tips

hang words like dull daggers, like

ribbon-round-finger reminders of times

where points A and B didn’t quite meet.

I’m tired, if calmly dipping toes

into the edge of implosion, or if drowning

in dead skin, unresolved traumas, can be

what tired is; I’m tired,

if tired is the nexus where a million

gravities meet, none heavy enough

to move me, none light enough

to make numbness pretty enough for art

or fill spaces saturated with humid emptiness.

This is not the dry burn that leads

to a poem, a suicide, a tragedy

where you turn off all your lights,

draw in deeply, hair follicle to ribcage,

shiver.

Here there too many things to shed,

not enough layers—

not because not enough layers;

rather because I hoard

all the unnecessary parts of me

until I can fashion an artistic armor

to frame them in upon reclaiming

the sense of self to bullshit,

or realize that in the celestial,

past cloud, star, ring, flash, flesh, planet,

body, galaxy, there is disappointment

stemming all the way from me,

rich and darkly, core secure,

imbalance, loose limbs,

tilting off the edge of the world, trapping

the rush between legs, down spine,

somewhere it can’t be reached again—

only felt, longed for, another nothing,

nothing salvaged, not-quite-nostalgia,

not-quite-nothing.

for the mind and the soul and the rot: Saudades

dysthymicdejeuner:

Splashed in streams of light pouring from a saucer moon
I turned four in a costume from L’ecole de Danse de Madame Gerard
and learned to fly
briefly, arms outstretched
fingers grasping for wet whips of wind
until the dewey pavement beckoned me
home to a bed of gravel and a lullaby of ringing…

(Source: dysthymicdejeuner-blog)

“This is how thoroughly we women have been sexualized, that we cannot make the kind of noises that come with physical exertion without it being associated with sex. In fact, everything about our bodies has been sexualized in one way or another. If we groan during sport or we breast-feed in public, we are criticized for making people think about sex. If we talk openly about things like menstruation and poop and farts, then we are criticized for making people not want to think about sex.

Think about what it means to be ladylike and all of the adjectives that go along with it: elegant, cultured, classy, sophisticated. To be successful at being feminine means being successful at being private, keeping your body’s natural functions behind closed doors and never letting anyone know they exist. It means to be constrained, that you do not let your legs spread wide in public transportation and you do not make noises that are harsh on the ears. It means presenting a polished, shiny surface to the world at all times, one that allows others to project whatever they wish onto you while never showing too much of your true self.”

missvoltairine:

best response so far

(Source: bunnytier-blog, via drbrucebananer)

Sigh.

I’ve developed a terrible attention span. I guess I’ll get up off my ass and start ranting more fully on here, maybe soon.

New ZOE HD Collection info coming May 25th

galaxynextdoor:

image

Konami will be holding an event celebrating the ZOE franchise this coming May 25th with a huge blowout on the upcoming ZOE HD Collection. At the event will be Kojima and several members of Kojima Productions who have worked on the ZOE series. So fans of high speed mecha combat with dazzling particle effects may want to keep an eye out around the 25th for new footage of the game and an announcement of a Collector’s Edition.

Via: Konami

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Source: galaxynextdoor)

Things That Make You Go Rawr: Black Tea on Saturn

purplelikerawr:

I cocooned myself in broken oceans
and steeped in Pluto’s bitterness
to rediscover the shadows branded
in the space around my rib cage.

I drowned twice, first, and then
imploded in the ripples
of a plum wine river running
through the breaks between my joints.

Distantly, weeds…

Rereading my own writing… and actually enjoying it a little, lol. Progress

thedarkamethyst:
“ oniline:
“ YESSSSSS!!!
”
DEAD
”

thedarkamethyst:

oniline:

YESSSSSS!!!

DEAD

(Source: spootywabbit, via lunafoxglove-blog1)