do you ever have that moment when song A ends and your brain for some reason expects song B to start even though those two songs have no connection what so ever and you’re like wtf brain. but then you remember that’s how they used to go on some old as balls mixtape you made 4773 years ago.
In response to your last anon ask about the mixtape: I think saying "oh, it could just be an old mixtape he made for himself" or "oh, it's just a thing that totally platonic bros do all the time" ignores the extremely long history of mixtapes being used as a romantic trope? Whether or not people do this IRL, I can't recall ONE moment in fiction where one character gave another a mixtape and it wasn't a romantic pairing.
Psst @ last anon ^
This is a really, really good point. We’re watching fiction. I have never, never seen a mixtape used in fiction as ANYTHING but romantic. (I will gladly accept examples, though.) Unless the show explicitly states that it was Dean’s old tape, we’re kind of supposed to assume that it was made specifically FOR Cas.
1. In the beginning there are days when my sadness is bigger than the both of us, but you tell me that if I close my eyes I’ll be able to see the universe inside of me, and for a moment I do. That is when I realize you are what brings color into my life.
2. You call me your poetic girl and in return I cry myself to sleep because no one has ever seen enough pain in my writing to call me a poet. That is when I realize you are everything.
3. You ask me what my story is and after I tell you about the self loathing and more years spent trying to kill myself than actually living, you tell me about your mother and how she never calls you by the right name and never says the right things.
4. The first time you break my heart is when you tell me you love me but you’re not in love with me. I smile like it doesn’t hurt, like my heart isn’t just a pile of splinters on the floor now.
5. I can taste the end on the tip of my tongue but right now I am sitting in my bathtub squeezing my eyes shut and all I see is darkness.
6. It’s you and me and this vacant space our voices can’t seem to fill so I kiss you harder trying to find what we lost, but I just keep coming up empty.
7. I want to beg you to please, atleast pretend you still want me but instead I promise myself to stay even when it hurts. I always said I wouldn’t leave first.
8. Each time you say I love you it sounds more and more like an apology, I don’t want your apology, I just wanted to mean something to someone.
9. There is no more color, only weathered letters and old mixtapes to remind me that you were real and not just another person I made up.
10. I try so hard to pretend we can still be friends even though we both know that was the end. I try so hard but I keep breaking the last bits of me until I am close to becoming nothing.
11. I’m sorry for the way we fell apart, but I can’t stay.
-R.J// We fell together, then fell apart//
Synopsis: In Alicia Cook’s second poetic effort, designed in the style of an old mixtape, she sets her thoughts to a nostalgic tune. There is no Table of Contents. Instead, there is a “Track List,” making it easy to refer to them to your friends with a, “Hey did you read track seven?!” There are no chapters. Instead, the book is divided into two parts, or as one would say in the 90’s, two “sides.” Side A holds poetry that touches on all aspects of the human condition like life, death, love, moving on, evolving, growing up, hometowns, family dynamic, life after trauma, and make-ups and breakups. Side B holds the “remixes” of these poems, in the form of blackout poetry, also known as “found poetry.”
I might or might not have spent a lot of time wrapped up in this book. I actually tooks some time to make a Spotify playlist of the tracks within the book, which you can find here (With the exception of Track 25, 42, 63, 69, and 84 on B Side, because apparently these songs don’t exist on Spotify).