Summary

The text is a poetic expression of deep personal turmoil and a rejection of external validation during Pisces season.

Abstract

The content of the website is a poem titled "A Piece of Bullshit," indicating a raw and unfiltered outpour of emotions. It depicts a desolate scene, both internally and externally, where the narrator feels isolated, disregarded, and burdened by the expectations of others. The poem reflects on the futility of seeking respect or understanding in a world that seems indifferent to individual struggles. The author expresses frustration with societal norms, the pressure to manifest positivity, and the emptiness of superficial interactions. The piece concludes with a declaration of self-acceptance and a defiant rejection of being fixed by others, emphasizing that the author does not consider themselves broken despite their hardships.

Opinions

The author feels that external entities, such as the universe or other people, are indifferent to their personal struggles.
There is a sense of disillusionment with the concept of manifesting destiny or receiving help from the universe.
The poem conveys a strong rejection of being defined or fixed by others, asserting that the author is not broken.
The author is tired of the superficiality of life and is seeking authenticity, even if it means confrontation.
The poem suggests that the author believes in the power of the individual to find their own way, independent of external validation or support.
The mention of Pisces season implies that the author associates the current astrological phase with a period of deep introspection and emotional rawness.
The author uses the metaphor of "Return to sender" to emphasize their desire to return the unwanted package of societal expectations and judgments.

A Piece of Bullshit

Written in a dark place

the tables are empty there’s not even a crumb, to nibble green orchards, it is dry to the bone

a long tree branch wrinkles at the touch, i squeeze too hard, fracturing its arm

piece by piece i tear its insides, half tolerant of its presence, my fault for motivation

short breaths only to grip me at, convenience

swipe left for respect swipe right for failure, circulate decisions, good luck cleaning your wounds

population eight billion dummies lineup for soup, i told you the table is empty, there isn’t a crumb (For you)

suck your thumb and curl into a ball, a depressed sack of shit, no one gives a fuck

some say they do but your table’s still empty, and you have to pay the bill, after clearly eating nothing

then stare with blank eyes a swarming storm inside, you became the fool, when they said they would try

not here at my worst always here at my best i’ll send the universe, a thank you – take this package of shit

return to sender Return to sender Return to sender, RETURN TO SENDER

see that’s manifesting here’s why it won’t work, the universe does not care, about what you’re going through

faith to who? something that wants to control but remember you have to surrender, whatever the fuck that means

fuck you Fuck you Fuck you, FUCK YOU

i bet you heard that

serve it to me tenfold i want all the smoke, i’m tired of this little part, we call existence

a soul can die, die, die, die, a soul can crumble

and do not fix me because

i am not broken

Welcome to Pisces season. Raw thoughts and open expressions, take it how you want. My nipples don’t really give a fuck. Return to sender and leave me the hell alone.

Sincerely yours,

Maybe Willow💖♾️🖤