Libraryidealist - Dried Flowers And Art

Culture Shock

Guys, I am currently experiencing culture shock, in the city I live in since my birth.

Let me explain...

After my school burned down (again), I got a letter from an unknown source (though I believe it's from one of the Wayne Kids).

The Letter said that I had received a full scholarship, allowing me to visit Gotham Academy for my senior year.

My entire family was overjoyed, because that meant that we didn't have to look for a new school AND that i get a decent education (plus Gotham Academy doesn't look too bad on College Applications).

In the letter I was also invited to a visitation day (which was today) and let me tell you, that school is... it's something else.

It looks as if it's never been burned, they have non damaged and clean tables, PLANTS!!!, and MORE THAN ONE room full of Computers that aren't from 2002.

We also ate in their cafeteria, and y'all, it's edible food.

I am absolutely floored.

They also gave me my school-uniform and honestly, those are the nicest clothes I've ever owned.

(I mean I guess you can expect these things for the price tag. I mean I couldn't afford the books, let alone the tuition, so thank you whoever gave me the scholarship <3)

Anyway, I am excited for my first day of school.... tommorow?? (Damnit Gotham Academy is in a different school district, my twin brother got another 2 weeks of holidays(Im not gonna hear the end of it)).

ATTENTION TO ALL GOOD OMENS, LOCKWOOD AND CO, MARAUDERS, SUPERNATURAL, AND UMBRELLA ACADEMY FANS

If you still haven’t watched Dead Boy Detectives, I think you absolutely should watch the entire thing since the show embodies the all of these shows in one. It’s literally about two ghost ‘friends’ solving other people’s death because their deaths were never solved, it has the angst and so many laughs too.

And I know some people may be afraid about the show being canceled, but the only way to prevent a show from being cancelled is by actually watching it. Completion rates is how Netflix renews things, so please complete the show in its entirety. There is a mass watching event/watch party for old and new viewers from this Friday to Sunday, starting at 1pm EASTERN. Please join and help out.

If I haven’t convinced you, at least tell a friend about it who may seem interested in the show.

End the cancellation streak, allow queer/ya shows to have more than one season. Queer teens and just teens in general deserve more shows, the same shows we got.

She asked me if I miss her while she's on sick leave from school.

What do you want me to answer? I wrote a poem about you on the train heading home from your place after we binge-watched Netflix together. I check Whatsapp way too often, heart chipped a little more everytime you didn't reply just to completly heal up once you do. I miss seeing you in my peripheral vision when I look at the board. I miss sitting beside you in silence during break while you draw, eating my sandwich. I miss looking up and seeing you infront of my desk. Free periods hurt, cause I've never eaten the entire orange alone. I've always shared quarters with you.

Yeah I miss you. We're in high school, and my love is appropriately rediculous.

my home isn't my home anymore, something's gone wrong along the way

noor hindi dear god. dear bones. dear yellow.: "pledging alliegance" (via @feral-ballad) \\ andrew collins \\ athena nassar, from love is not always song, but the swelling (via @weltenwellen) \\ @holly-warbs \\ yanyi dream of the divided field: poems: "the friend” (via @dactylicreveries) \\ bartosz beda silent interior ii

kofi

how many times can you live through the apocalypse?

when you were little there was this beach that was free to go to. you didn't really like it on account of the litter. at one point, a white bag caught around your ankle, and for a moment (fish child), you panicked about jellyfish. on the foam, the red-pink words read thank you, stacked on top of each other, tangled in the kelp.

they have a new program (three thousand american dollars) to send your dead relative to the moon. there is a lot of evidence that our local orbit is becoming ever-more dangerously populated with "micro" satellites - debris in a round miasma becoming a thick web above us. maybe angels cannot hear us through the pollution.

you used to picture deep space like a thick membrane, or a blanket. someone said to you once the universe has no edge and that fucked with you for a long time, trying to picture what shape infinity has. your coworker is writing a short story about ecological collapse, which she is submitting for a little side-money so she can survive the current economical collapse.

the birds haven't gone to sleep this winter. that is probably bad. something that actually freaks you out is the natural temperature of human bodies versus the survival temperature of certain fungi. there is a podcast called s-town, in which a man kills himself over climate anxiety. he was probably meant to seem sort of unhinged. it just seems like it is becoming increasingly clear he was being honest.

space is not empty, we have put our dead into the stars. at some point they will figure out how to put ads into our sleep. you need to pay for the greenlife subscription service to be able to save the world.

there is a lot of ways this poem ends. but you have been wearing the same jeans and shirts since you were, like, 18. it is a hard life, sometimes, watching the entire foundation crack. there was this one moment over the summer, where you were shaking with heat exhaustion and dehydration. you were offered a nestle water bottle.

for three thousand dollars, you can send your ashes into space.

instead, you wash out the peanut butter jar. you put the avocado-toothpick spiked seed ball into water (even though they never grow very far). you borrow what you do not want to buy. you pick up any litter you find. you do not have a lot of control, really. but where you do - if there is one thing you can do, you do it.

something about that. you need to believe that must be true for the rest of humanity. or maybe - you need to believe that to be true, or else there will not be a rest of humanity.

truly some people have no genre savviness whatsoever. A girl came back from the dead the other day and fresh out of the grave she laughed and laughed and lay down on the grass nearby to watch the sky, dirt still under her nails. I asked her if she’s sad about anything and she asked me why she should be. I asked her if she’s perhaps worried she’s a shadow of who she used to be and she said that if she is a shadow she is a joyous one, and anyway whoever she was she is her, now, and that’s enough. I inquired about revenge, about unfinished business, about what had filled her with the incessant need to claw her way out from beneath but she just said she’s here to live. I told her about ghosts, about zombies, tried to explain to her how her options lie between horror and tragedy but she just said if those are the stories meant for her then she’ll make another one. I said “isn’t it terribly lonely how in your triumph over death nobody was here to greet you?” and she just looked at me funny and said “what do you mean? The whole world was here, waiting”. Some people, I tell you.

wait are there really new people joining this site. i thought it was a hoax.

I'll tell you a secret: I felt like I was better. It couldn't happen to me. I was worldly and supported and had a plan and I spoke well and in 2 languages. The world was waiting to unlock itself to my potential. Back then, I had the secret fear that the world was too small for me.

And it happened anyway. The terrible cliché I felt too good for. I got stuck in the home town. Plans didn't work, and suddenly almost a year had passed and I'd spent it in an internship that was my plan H in a place that was my plan Never. And now, with bloody fingernails, I've held on to the easiest dream I had. Not even the pretty, big ones that I thought I'd conquer for fun and joy. The easy one. And I'm sick. Two years at a minimum, first time I've been sick like this. I can do nothing.

Time is running out and university is drawing closer and I was sixteen in a school I hated and I PROMISED myself I wouldn't let it come to this. I wouldn't cave. I'd take the time I want and I'd see the world and I thought I was so prepared. I thought the world was waiting for me. I thought I was so privileged. I thought that meant everything would be butterflies.

Why can't it be butterflies.

Ada Limón, “To Be Made Whole”, On Being with Krista Tippett

childhood was so crazy. my parents were kind of young. a meal seemed to last forever. i could run for ages. everyone was alive