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cuttyspot:

[LIZZY YZZIL VIDEO INTERVIEW RESPONSE]

*

last year lizzy released her first book of poems, poems vol. 1, which i write about here

it’s good - you should get it

in the video she turns her responses into a sort of collage, & much of the videoquality is better than most vidresponses i receive

she smiles a lot :)

she answers questions in the woods as a cicada makes noise, on a stoop with perfect-circle sunglasses on, in a house in front a bunch of books

she speaks about DIY, pain, being unashamed, ‘coming of age’

she shows us some of her favorite books, primarily from great women poets like eileen myles & ai

here are some of my favorite moments:

"Well, there’s no such thing as bad writing advice because any writing advice is either aspirational, as in how that person wishes they were writing in that moment, or it’s real but in that case it’s still just their own story, & you have to make your own story."

"The only route that I wanted to take was self-publishing"

"Everything you do can be imbued with a certain amount of empathy, whether it’s how you write, how you walk around in the world - being in the world. It’s just a choice that you have to make to include it. Every day you wake up & you have to make that choice."

"As a young girl, you discover your body, & you discover masturbation, but you don’t know it by any name, & you feel like it’s just your own thing that you invented. Then you encounter the world & you realize, ‘Oh, this is a shameful thing. I need to keep it to myself.’ Then at some point, at least for me, that young girl grows up & realizes that what she’s doing in touching herself is really healthy & getting in touch with something deeper. & that’s ultimately my relationship with writing & self-expression. Because no two people masturbate the same."

"Pain is like that cognitive dissonance or punctuated equilibrium […, which] says that evolution doesn’t happen progressively at the same rate of change, but that it actually happens in these spurts. & I think that’s so true - that I grow as a person & a writer when I’m having these spurts of pain & this brutal understanding. New understanding. Coming into myself & understanding that I no longer need to be ashamed of the things that I express, whether it’s opinions or my most intimate feelings translated into poetry. Once I reached that point, I was finally able to write my book"

things ok

nonparticipation is an ok thing
waking up three seasons further into a television show you didn’t care about—
an ok thing
a better thing
is to wake up three seasons back in a television show you cared about
offering further opportunity for resolution

regression is
an ok thing

ok things as in inferior goods
ok things as minute sacrifices one makes in order to feel,
in the long term,
ok

thing i’d like to say if a few choice people walked into my life
ok things, as in,

okay

let’s sit down
not you
i’ll take a seat
ok.
things.
i’d like to say.

if it makes you feel better i’ll tell you straight
only ok things

winter in the evening and summer in the morning

i like it better when there’s nothing in my pockets
everything in its place

wake up lighter
open the window
close the blinds

something expanding

a fine dust

unsettled
silt in shallows

in the morning, i discovered

dragging
this against this

rubbing
no specific here

looking out but not
searching

feeling
without sense

my body is an unshut body
in the morning, i discovered

i was born and raised in texas, you’re just visiting

the sand in my shoes
rubs my feet
into pearls

i cut off my left arm and it
regenerates

i cut off my right arm and it
regenerates


the ocean shrugs and leaves
leaving fossils in the sand

the fossils in the sand
rub my feet
into shards

really,

it was nothing. it was nothing!
you are nothing. we are nothing.
it was nothing—

like something i say
when i have done someone a favor,
one that then invites praise.
really,

“it was nothing”

crying in front of an open gchat when [x] is now offline is likecrying in an empty room when everyone has gone homeeveryone is curling up in their respective homesi am here, involvedthe act of continuously viewing

crying in front of an open gchat when [x] is now offline is like
crying in an empty room when everyone has gone home
everyone is curling up in their respective homes
i am here, involved
the act of continuously viewing

february

once got a kick out of smoking
cigarettes at 5am, jogging path,
houston texas, museum district.
now i feel like everyone’s wearing
a graphic tee that says, don’t
tread on me. touch my toes
in preparation for accidental
exertion, stretch out, nevermind,
not one for jogging, no more
cigarettes; trying to keep just one
resolution.

unwrapped

without my contours noticed
they disappear: eating is hard,
everything is hard, writing is shit,
everything is shit, everything
is going to shit. mirrors are
too kind, friends must lie,
i’m here but i am barely
present. in some number of
days, someday, some day,
one of these days, one day,
not today, definitely not today,
you won’t be holding all my
organs in as i try to sleep.
until then i am bound by you—
rapt.