From 1c2a1ebe85ae4c9b64252b0bb9da21505a7a939f Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Madison Scott-Clary Date: Fri, 15 Sep 2023 10:10:10 -0700 Subject: [PATCH] update from sparkleup --- writing/3/terrifying/intro.html | 22 +++++++++++++++++++++- 1 file changed, 21 insertions(+), 1 deletion(-) diff --git a/writing/3/terrifying/intro.html b/writing/3/terrifying/intro.html index 2f89e5b1a..250f79c48 100644 --- a/writing/3/terrifying/intro.html +++ b/writing/3/terrifying/intro.html @@ -52,9 +52,29 @@ of the terrifying, which we can only just endure.\footnote{\cite[11]{duino}}

Anything I make that is at all meaningful to me — that is, anything that I feel is worth sharing — is too much to ask others to engage with. “How dare you,” it says. “How dare you ask that others consider your work meaningful.”\footnote{\cite{ally-making-of}}

How dare I! How dare I take up that space! And with malice and aforethought!

-

I use my will to wedge myself into the world. I project an intent and make myself known. I speak up and then cringe at the sound of my voice.

+

I use my will to wedge myself into the world. I project an intent and make myself known. I speak up and then cringe at the sound of my voice, and even my love poems, written but unsent, cringe away from my presence.

+
+

I live my life in eternal terror
+of the completeness of your own.
+I take up so little space
+and impinge upon it so gently,
+I only hope that there is space enough
+for a ‘dear’ here and a ‘lovely’ there.
+If beauty is at the edge of the terrifying,
+I live my life in eternal terror.

+

But, ah! My friends, all those who promised I wasn’t a burden back when that was a thing I would ask them about, they all clap! They clap and smile and tell me that I’ve done a good thing.

Don’t they know I’m working hard at defining my boundaries? Don’t they know they’re praising me for violating those very same boundaries? Frankly, it’s quite rude.

+
+

Cover me, crush me, compress me.
+Squeeze me down until I fit in your pocket.
+Let me jangle among your keys,
+or slip between bills in your wallet.
+Forget me, let me fray, let me fall apart.
+And, some day, pull me free,
+dust me off, flatten me out,
+and tell me that you love me.

+

But I am working at getting better at accepting that sort of feedback. I’m trying to accept that taking up space is even allowed.

And we marvel at it so because it holds back in serene disdain