the absolute best #screenplay #bestacting #poignant #quotable #vulnerable#statement #workofart #netlix #TheEndoftheFxxxingWorld2 #TheEndOfTheFxxxingWorld #intelligent #intellectual#suspensionofdisbelief #fourthwall #emmys pic.twitter.com/cCIyjWMFKm
— corpus delicti (@rebekahduffus) November 19, 2019
Month: November 2019
sexual exploitation . the dirty hands
via sexual exploitation . the dirty hands
you willed me
subservient
though it
hurt, I’m glad it died
alas, it came & went
at a bad time
my self esteem, my girlish dreams
not much of me
survived
sexual exploitation . the dirty hands
seems I trusted you, back then
how could I comprehend
the manufacture
of control so tidy, knotted>
pawn, me
or some property
given thus from him to thee
and you willed me
subservient
though it
hurt, I’m glad it died
alas, it came & went
at a bad time
my self esteem, my girlish dreams
I am quite sure
did not survive
imagine who I’d be now…
father husband jailer critic
eternally the cynic
well ridden, which you enjoyed
my intellect lay dormant as
my body was your toy
here, but not
via here, but not
all I can say for sure
is where she is I also
wish to be
for however long she’s there, I would
gladly shadow
woman ancient wonder child
who’s hanging out
on Earth awhile
to ease her
soul,
tho I can’t say
seems in her dark wandering,
she’s here but then ..so weary. i tell she is away.
here, but not
see her there, the dark one
the hard tack: in her thoughts
deep
she might drown, or swim back
who can say?
ever since I met her, she has always been this way…
don’t ask for her advice or try to cut her down
to size : some She Wolf, she – some
mother bear
incisors glisten
no, she will not sit still & just listen
but if you feel that you might care
follow her out there
when she pauses, sometimes she
speaks of other places
other things
there’s wisdom in the speaking
in the shadows
I swear I hear her sing
her voice Rising toward some Sky Soul
abiding, some Ground Hole
uprising, some variant
vagrant intellect
of cosmic horror
to Take Her Home
I swear, I do
I know
she won’t be here for long…..
and I would listen to her breathe
watch the cherry glow when she inhales
…brimstone, compromise that ‘something dark’
inside her eyes
like she’s been through the Veil : of course she’s not for sale
perhaps unravelled or a life form
from another time, She.
all I can say for sure
is where she is I also
wish to be
for however long she’s there, I would
gladly shadow
woman ancient wonder child
who’s hanging out
on Earth awhile
to ease her
soul,
tho I can’t say
seems in her dark wandering,
she’s here but then ..so weary. i can tell she is away.
She-Gods
She-Gods
You are She-Gods, and for this, you are Feared.
Mystery of Womb and Wind
Bless your Holy Prescience
in every season well
Creator of Heaven : Redeemer of Hell
your bonds now be loosed
you are Wise
The ends of the Universe
Dwell in Your Eyes
Mighty One Known by the Cycles of Moon
In all you are the Source
and the Knowledge
passed down from
Mother to Daughter notorious
known in these times woman kind
aye, ye be glorious
naught that is known is in vain
we stand tall for we
Have Known
our Pain
Blessings Kindred
Know Your Power
you are most bless’d
Now, in this Hour
being bipolar
bipolar people say “”I’m sorry”” a lot for their behavior while manic.
i am so sick of being sorry. I am so sick of acting before I think and paying the price…i am SO SICK of my impulsivity, my roller coaster,… the edge I cannot seem to acknowledge and which I overshoot & fall off time and time and time again. I hate the beast, I hate her yet she is me. she fucking wreaks havoc upon all the things & people the normal part of me loves and cherishes and would preserve. I want to go in the hole and stay there forever. I am sorry to my family for being this person. I am sorry, I don’t know what else to do, how to change it; how to become something other than this.
i have to change doctors. the outgoing physician refilled all my meds except for my xanax & i will run out before I can be established with a new clinic. this means that the mania & panic for which I take this medication will be boiling over and I am afraid, because I cannot control it.
being bipolar is like being a fabulous architect & builder & making all these beautiful relationships and spaces & building trust & establishing positive life skills and then riding the wrecking ball, yeehaw which destroys it all. I am exhausted. it’s like I am just proving that i cannot have normal love or normal trusting relationships and I didn’t MAKE myself this way, it is not like I am tweaking, this is just me, just who I am and I am the creator of my own hell, my own demise, my own destroyer. I am just so sick of being me. i am so sick of being me. i am so sick of being anything at all.
common bond of care
place it here, all thoughts of fear
: in hands which do not
pull away : a place where all our anxiousness
is calmed & drained ; we can be at peace again
oh, how we need this presence, this
perspective in our times
let no one tell you it’s not real,
these anxious feelings which you feel :
we cannot full control our thoughts
strength & power, we feel them not.
the simplicity of a hand to hold brings
strength to anxious hearts, unfold
the common bond of care –
i promise soul shall meet you there :
for if we can share our joy & strength
we can share hope, let us commence by
touching here
our blessed hands
symbols of that which does stand
between the raging tide of woe
and peace in which we all would flow
i shall hold your hand, you mine;
acknowledging our humankind
the overwhelmed, the in-between
some rich fabric of a dream
we bring such sentience to life
Together
may we make it right
one day to pass and thus one night
overwhelmed me, often times
teach me to live
one day at a time
four fingers two thumbs 