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We’ll hitchhike to mars
on a rocket not a car,
so say your au revoirs.

We’ll steer towards Polaris, the north star
right through the center of the milky-way-bar.
See, the universe is dark and chocolatey.

Stars that glitter like multi-faceted gems,
are just shiny, yellow, peanut M&Ms,
take a handful, if you’d like, they’re free.

We’ll dodge the silhouetted moon,
which is made of enough coconut macaroon,
to make a French confectioner swoon.

As we go streaking, like a comet’s tail,
drag a finger through Saturn’s rings as well,
those are made of marshmallow.

We’ll  pass nebulae made of cotton-kandi,
and here’s a fact Einstein would have found handy,
the speed of light doesn’t apply to candy.
.
.
Ramble on by Toni Jevicky
go to bed  •think bemusingly of you
loop (cond) { tomorrow }
I rise in the morning (5am),
jog an 8K  •thinking of you, wash up
drink some flavored, black coffee
watch the morning sun balloon
eat toast while reading a set amount
write my unique and uninteresting analysis
work on half a dozen, odd assignments
walk .8 miles to campus  •thinking of you
team up, with some older, uninteresting guys
interview a focus group, present dataset interpretations
walk .8 miles back to my flat  •thinking of you
eat while reading a set amount
go to bed  •think bemusingly of you
loop (cond) { tomorrow }
I rise in the morning (5am)…
.
.
Songs for this:
Falling Down a Well by Jack J
Overtime (pt 1) by Mk.gee  [E]
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 06/22/25:
bemused = confusion, bewildered and somewhat amused.

8k is just 5 miles - they always measure runs in kilometers,
I don't know why.
RSD
Every little rejection
Every "I can't"
"Maybe"
Feels like I opened my chest
Giving them access to my heart
And they took it out
Twisted it
And put it back in bleeding
Rejection sensitive dysphoria is something I've always struggled with, even as a little kid. I know rationally that they don't hate me and aren't truly rejecting me, but I just feel like absolute **** every time. I'm not diagnosed with anything, but it makes me feel better about myself to think it's something medical and not just me ******* and being dramatic. Also, it's quite precise to what I feel sometimes so I call it that. Idk but yeah. Love you all ❤️❤️❤️
he tilts his head back when he laughs,
like joy is something he trusts will catch him.
he moves like music.
fluid, unbothered,
as if the world bends a little to let him through.

he talks with his hands,
but listens with his whole heart.
he remembers small things
like my favorite songs,
what makes me happy,
what time i usually start to spiral.

he’s the kind of boy who says “i miss you”
in between ordinary moments,
not afraid to feel with his whole heart,
and doesn’t shy away from mine either.

he works harder than anyone i’ve ever known.
he dresses his achievements
up as failures,
but he knows i see through it.

he’s gentle with people,
even when they’re not gentle with him.
he thinks too much,
but it’s only because he cares too much.

he believes he’s a mess.
i believe he’s a miracle.

and when he tells me he loves me,
it sounds like a promise
he made to himself
long before he met me.
a study of sean 🫶
Love will not survive
if not accompanied by trust.
If you're not beautiful,
be thankful -
for beauty is a mask
that hides the real you.

People who love you
will always see the beauty in you,
no matter how you look.
like a car crash,
explosions fill
my head

emotional wreckage—
thoughts tangled
in dread

am i the problem?
or are they
projecting
instead?

i let go
of the wheel

just to
feel something—

go off the rails,
’cause sanity
feels surreal.

am i the problem?
or just
trapped in
my head?

because dealing
with this

is harder
than i ever
imagined.
inspired by Story of the Year’s “Take the Ride,”

this poem unpacks the moments when self-reflection spirals into self-blame.
it’s about losing control—mentally, emotionally—and wondering if the crash was your fault...

or if you were set up to break.

for anyone who's ever asked, "is it me?"

this one's for you.
You and I—
we feel,
we love,
we regret.
Yet we remain
the binding particle
of a formless self.

They divide us,
pit us against each other.
We found safety
for thirteen days.

Before dawn,
we felt the breath
that seeps through cracks
into minds like a narrow thread of force,
and the fog spilled out.

Above our heads, false stars
created by warm bodies
to annihilate
what passed through the gate
of a birthing woman.

We write words to conjure
happy endings
at the ball of extermination
that tears apart
the pulsing light
of a thousand veins.

Please sit with me
before you go
Do you feel it—
the mourning procession
of human beings
transforming into a state of fission
and drifting away?

And a sigh is so sad
of trembling atoms
when the victim becomes the destroyer.

Feel the force of the fall,
and do not shatter hope
even if the world
trembles to its core
because there is still YOU,
still ME,
and still

OTHERS.
Hania Rani Journey-from xAbo: Father Boniecki
I told him I never wanted to see him again
Which I guess was true
I mean that's the logical thing
It's not safe or pleasant
But some part of me is still devastated I suppose
I mean after all he has always existed with me
Even since I was born
He's always technically been there
Even if he was there hurting me

I'm afraid
I'm afraid
I'm afraid of the suicide note he'll leave
"Because of Liana" it will say
Whether it's true or not those words will echo my insides
And later appear as blood pouring down my arm

And part of me is sad too
I wish
**** I wish on every star that he would just be okay
Be there to protect me
A shoulder to cry on
Be a father
Not someone I may need a restraining order for

I carry it around with me everywhere
It chokes me
Wraps it's boney arms around me
Makes my body weak
And makes me not be able to eat

I told him I never wanted to see him again
And I know that it sounds cruel
"Oh, but he's your father!"
But he never was
I wish
Oh how I wish I would never have to utter those words

I want it to be normal that I miss him
Because part of my heart throbs
I want that if I said that those who knew what he'd done would get it
That it would be acceptable
Because right now I do miss him
Or maybe I miss what never was
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