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hey!!! have you ever wanted to watch an actual Quileute elder talk about Quileute culture, language, and tradition? (as well as his family history, the damage Twilight has done, climate change, and so much more?)
trick question. this is an intervention. even if you’ve never wanted that, you do now.
youtube
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hmfbQRclFf8
this is a video of Chris Morganroth, a Quileute elder, canoe-builder, language teacher, and a fantastic storyteller. he is wearing a shirt covered in pictures of wolves: his cousin made it for him! this is a recording of a 2012 speech at the Smithsonian. it is about an hour long. it is so worth it.
(big thanks to @twilightphasepodcast, who cited this as a resource in their latest episode, which was how i found it!)
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Vampire and his human wife after years of marriage
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"ɪ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ᴘᴀᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪғᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ..."
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White Vinegar, a poem
He tells me he loves me 
But I know as well as you know as well as he knows that he will never love me
Not in the same way that he loves the drinks on his table
Or the drugs in his nose
I tell him I love him 
And I mean it
With every fiber of my being 
I ask if he would die for me 
And he asks what there is to die for? 
He could never die for a shell of a girl 
But he could die for the white lines on his nightstand 
He asks if I would die for him 
And without hesitation I say of course
Because I would
My smile is all teeth but I am all bark and no bite 
My showers burn again and I blame the blood in the drain on the boy who keeps me tethered to him by throwing me scraps of who he was when we first met 
My only personality trait is loving the wrong people right and missing the point
Because the point is not that he said he loves me 
But the point is that he does not mean it. 
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Let the sun Explode, a poem
I have been living at the bottom of a lake for the last eighteen years of my life
I sit in the wet sand and shove mudpies into my mouth
eating them like spoonfuls of sugar
I want to be one with the earth
part of the fae 
mother natures best friend
so I snort lines of dirt in the woods behind the cemetery
and keep seashells in my bra
when my brothers friend died I called it a dirt nap and the mother kicked me out of the funeral
so I drove away with a man who looked like my seventh grade science teacher and he promised me the world
but threw me out of the car when we hit the state lines
once when I was seven I ate a spider and told my Mother it was for a dare 
that was a lie like most everything else because really I just wanted to know that I was more than the barrier that is my mental state
the first time I swam in the ocean I felt the salt leave tiny kisses on my skin 
and when the jellyfish stung me I pretended it was just giving me a hug
my fantasy curdled like milk in the sun when I felt the piss on my leg
and finally I cried
because the earth wants to be one on its own
the fae laughed in my face
and mother nature doesn’t even know my name
so let the sun explode
and scorch the earth
and everything I’ve ever considered home
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♡ Writeblr intro ♡
Hello!
I may be a new to writeblr but am by no means a new writer. I’ve been writing since I can remember, and it’s one of my dreams to be published :) 
fun fact : I used to hate writing poetry because I couldn’t rhyme to save my life...still can’t rhyme, but LOVE writing poetry now! I know poetry doesn’t need to rhyme but it took myself a long time to convince myself of that!
 Now I spend most of my days online thinking of new ideas for poems, short fiction, and novels. 
I have three WIPs right now. One is a poetry book called Spilled Milk, the other is a short story collection called A Promise to Make is a Promise to Break, and the third and final one is a novel I am working on called Airplane Mode.
I love surrealistic stories and poems. I’m a fan of psychological thrillers and contemporary fiction. I enjoy the nitty gritty that most people are to uncomfortable to actually talk about, not because it is stuff that I support but rather I want people to get an inside look of from a different perspective. I want people to be perplexed and disgusted all at the same time. Think, Lolita.
I identify as nonbinary using the pronouns they/them, I am 18 and bisexual. I have a boyfriend whom is the light of my life (and fire of my loins.) I’ve been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder since I was fourteen years old and it has been a fucked up journey, one that I’m not even half way done with yet. It’s a hard illness but I truly believe it has made me as great of a writer as I am now. I want people to see the truly dark sides of mental illness, not the overly glamorized ones. I want them to see the abuse of others, the guilt tripping, the unintentional manipulation, all of the things that make people angry - and all of the things that are all apart of mental health, The ones that aren’t glamorized or talked about nearly enough.
If you want to see some cool, twisted, messed up writing give me a follow and reblog! I want some mutuals :) if you want some more writing friends also hit that follow button!
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