Pinned
lessons in listening to your heart, and not your head
@theycallmedizzy / theycallmedizzy.tumblr.com
Pinned
lessons in listening to your heart, and not your head
the trouble with writing is that it’s literally always easier to just lie facedown on your floor and make inarticulate noises
Draw badly. Write nonsensically. Embroider messily. Burn what you bake and cook. Get paint everywhere. Read half a book. Lose your mind for a bit. Plant things. Have faith in the process. Abandon 70 wood-carving projects. Get a kit and do some of it and never return to it. Get comfortable with sucking and losing motivation. Continue to create with reckless abandon.
did u know that one of life’s greatest joys is being silly with your friends
you should be addicted to shutting the fuck up
You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid
my dad–also a writer–came to visit, and i mentioned that the best thing to come out of the layoff is that i’m writing again. he asked what i was writing about, and i said what i always do: “oh, just fanfic,” which is code for “let’s not look at this too deeply because i’m basically just making action figures kiss in text form” and “this awkward follow-up question is exactly why i don’t call myself a writer in public.”
he said, “you have to stop doing that.”
“i know, i know,” because it’s even more embarrassing to be embarrassed about writing fanfic, considering how many posts i’ve reblogged in its defense.
but i misunderstood his original question: “fanfic is just the genre. i asked what you’re writing about.”
i did the conversational equivalent of a spinning wheel cursor for at least a minute. i started peeling back the setting and the characters, the fic challenge and the specific episode the story jumps off from, and it was one of those slow-dawning light bulb moments. “i’m writing about loneliness, and who we are in the absence of purpose.”
as, i imagine, are a lot of people right now, who probably also don’t realize they’re writing an existential diary in the guise of getting television characters to fuck.
“that’s what you’re writing. the rest is just how you get there, and how you get it out into the world. was richard iii really about richard the third? would shakespeare have gotten as many people to see it if it wasn’t a story they knew?”
so, my friends: what are you writing about?
About how you can try as hard as you want and love as hard as you want and sometimes things are still gonna go to shit
anyone wanna buy a semi rundown house with me that we spend the summer fixing up, long nights with the radio playing gently into the night as we put down new floor boards, sitting in freshly painted rooms watching the sun set out the window…… sorry, i cant finish this post, the fantasy got to me…..
I love your writing so much???? Will you ever like do a lil tutorial or something? That would be sooooo cool I don’t want to pressure you tho like you don’t have to it’s just a question
thank you so much! honestly i feel disastrously underqualified to give writing advice as i wrote one of my most popular poems in the bathroom of a cicis pizzaria but i appreciate your confidence in me :)
if i can ever find the words to explain my process, i promise to share them with you
ALSO please tell me how you came up with it? like what was the feeling/inspiration behind it? how does that line like feel to you i guess if that makes sense? i appreciate you so much, thank you for sharing your work with us :)
this was sent with another ask referencing the line from reasons that goes “no one has ever loved you this fully surely you will drown in it all”
i wrote this at sixteen, i think? and it was about another woman, so there’s your average unbridled teenaged angst coupled with a sexuality crisis. truthfully though i think it just comes from that very human fear of being undeserving of the love that we’re offered.
or maybe the idea that we are fooling everyone, all the time, and with just enough time, everyone else will wake up and see you the way you see you, which can be not very great.
but most people don’t see you the way you see you. they see you the way strangers on the train forget to compliment your shoes, but wish they hadn’t. the way your mother forgets i love you’s but never your lunch. the way your best friend would laugh at the sun if it looked at you funny.
i dunno. even knowing that, i think i still feel like that. i guess id always hoped teenage angst would muddle out and turn into Adult Exuberance instead of older, soggier angst. but i did kiss her. and i don’t regret it.
in the end, this poem was a love letter, not an obituary. my love was not doomed. it was real, and even now i can taste it on the back of my teeth, and there is nothing society, or anyone, can do to take that away from me.
i hope you feel loved. i hope you feel mighty, and immovable, and reverent. i hope someone holds you with scarred hands and the only thing they can think to fear is letting go.
as always, i love all of you to pieces. thank you for your kind words about my poetry. it’s been years, and i still hold them all near my heart
hi i just wanted to let you know that “reasons not to kiss her” is my all time favorite poem and i cry a little every time i read it. anyway thank you for putting your gift into this world xx
it seems as though this poem will be my mark on this app. it was such a small thing at the time, a teenage girl crying about loving too much, and the fear of it never being returned quite the same. but sometimes love is fickle and sometimes it moves mountains and other times it just gets you out of bed in the morning.
i am editing this a few days after my 22nd birthday. that means about six years has passed since this was written. if i had not kissed her i think i may have regretted that for the rest of my life.
do with that what you will :,)
So I stumbled upon your poem "Reasons not to kiss her" quite randomly as I was living my life sitting in public with my friends. I had to let you know that you magically and beautifully put into words the ache in my heart and took a lot not to cry because of how much I felt every word. I guess I wanted you to know is I felt like someone else somehow saw my fractured heart and put it to paper. I felt visible in that moment. I wanted to say thank you, deeply and dearly.
no, thank you. you can only be so lucky to have made even one person feel seen. i hope you still feel that way <3