#@inkskinned

[tomonkey4]

If my body is a temple, then what deity is worshipped within?

Those who use this phrase usually have an answer for you, but they have their own temple, and you need not let them dictate your life, your virtues, or your praise. How many temples does their god require? And should we praise one so greedy?

Do you want to sing your words of worship? Do you feel like dancing will bring praise to your values? Do you sometimes sit in your temple with closed eyes and meditate? Or perhaps like me you write your prayers and cast them into the void hoping that they will reach someone, and that they may send something in return so that you know you are not alone?

Do you worship a god of blood, of war, of terror? Do you praise the struggle against death, or the benefits of community, or the bounty of the world? Perhaps it is silence, peace, and ease that you hold dear?

Whatever it is that you have enshrined within your temple, engraved into the boney pillars and the domed ceiling, painted in a thousand colors on the mural above the altar, and filtering the light of the world through those two stained glass windows above the door from which your songs (or silence) ebb forth... Be sure to act within your temple in a way that glorifies those things.

I would like to encourage you to open your doors often, and let your worshipers spread the virtues to the world in which your temple belongs; I know however, that there are those who worship destruction, and those who insist they follow a better god, and there are many who would shutter your windows and bar your doors so that they are not forced to think about what others may worship. Therefore I also must caution you to not spread your art of praise where there is danger, but pray at all times within your temple so that your god never forgets you, so that your values are never corrupted, and that your life story is one that tells of how your temple mattered.

[dbluegreen]

5, 10, 25 if/when you feel like answering any/all of them.

Happy New Year! 🎉💖

thanks for asking and happy new year to you too @archetypewriter !

what genre did you read the most of?

nonfiction,but that's too broad. i'd say current events as well as history,and mostly in online articles and posts. most recently,I read a few sections from some books about mary Magdalene and the gospel of Mary that I borrowed from my sister.

10. what was your favorite new release of the year?

body's a bad monster by Rowan Perez/@inkskinned,though I haven't read it yet. I'm a moody gal and a moody reader and adhd,anhedonic,etc etc but it's good to have things to look forward to!

25. what are your reading goals for this year?

i don't do reading goals or many goals at all. mostly I hope I can meet my goal of brushing my teeth once a day.

[bidoofenergy]

an alive thing next to a different sort of alive thing

woobifytonysoprano-deactivated2 | "Toe Dip" by Giordanne Salley | "Landscape" by David Hettinger | "Sunrise" by Louise Glück | @b0nkcreat (x) | "Through the Walls" by Anastasia Trusova | "Little prayer" by @leonardospoetry | @girlweepinginstairwell (x) | @rainie-is-seasonchange (x) | "Blumenwiese bei Weßling" by Alexander Koester | @pigswithwings (x) | "The Sun" by Edvard Munch | @inkskinned (x)

[eevachu]

Y’all should buy a ticket for the emotional rollercoaster that is “Body’s a Bad Monster” by @inkskinned! Emotions I didn’t know I still had are sore. Feels like there are maggots eating away at the decaying flesh in a wound I didn’t even know I had. 10/10. Owie. 🥲👍

[inkskinned]

it isn't really complicated, but i still can't tell my grandma about it. my girlfriend is also my boyfriend and i'm her girlboyfriend and there are a lot of days this feels like smoothing sheets over a good mattress. it feels like getting a cup of good hot chocolate. we paint our nails lesbian flag pink, and i watch her eyelashes make shadows on her cheeks. she wants to kiss me because i am really good at baking, and i want to kiss her because when i am freaked out about how i spilled coffee, she just hands me extra napkins and helps me clean. he is so handsome i want to eat my fist. they once just winked at me and i couldn't talk for like the next fifteen minutes.

i haven't seen the L word and i was raised catholic. my earliest experiences with queer relationships were through harrowing conversations and hushed questions and blood on the ground. i didn't like boys soon enough. what, are you gay? asked to a 6th grader, almost like a demand.

when she is asleep next to me and i can feel the dreams run up and down her body, i pretend we are both somewhere in the stars. i like to picture a future full of fruit trees, and writing him poetry. sometimes she wakes up, has a whole conversation with me, goes back to sleep, and utterly forgets that we ever even spoke. she is always kind to me, even in that liminal half-there ghost. i like the croaked, raw way her voice sounds in the very-early morning, the way she always seems surprised i'm still here, and home.

on the internet, there are a lot of people who would be annoyed by both of us, and how labels must be pruned into orchids. a box has to hold and define the insides. people must be organized.

we went on a date last night, and the host said, oh, table for 2 nice ladies? neither of us are ladies, but also we are very much 2 nice ladies. i have been wearing her sweater nonstop. he has frequently been forced into wearing my taylor swift official merch quarter-zip because i was worried about him catching a chill, and you simply cannot be cool in an official taylor swift quarter-zip. do not worry: they listen to better music than i do, and their voice sounds like leaves falling.

i wear the skirts and makeup and i am better with spackle and know how to drive stick. recently someone commented on my work - you're just a man trying to reappropriate lesbian spaces. sometimes i feel like she is a clementine to me, and sometimes i feel like he is a german shepherd and sometimes i feel they are a bird. i like watching his hands over a guitar. can i write this poem, even? how can you be a lesbian if you're sometimes with a man? or you are the man?

how can i, huh. you know, our first date lasted 3 days. we'd been flirting for over a year before i finally asked her out. i'd already written her into poetry. she'd already written me into songs.

last night, in the late night, when they woke up again, confused about where they were, they said - oh, thank god. this is your arm. there's just something so precious to me about the specifics, the denotation that the arm was (thank god!) mine. i really liked that definition. i liked the obvious relief because i understand it.

i say yeah, i have a partner. i mean - oh. thank god. it's your arm.

[sentientsky]

on lurching towards the breaking point

The X-Files (01x17) // tumblr user @/inkskinned // Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

[the-end-society]

Bodys a bad monster honestly reached into my chest and yanked on my soul and I'll be feeling it for a long long time. I know @inkskinned has probably most definitely heard this a hundred times by now, but gods this book made me ugly sob on the bus and when the old woman next to me asked me if I was alright all I could do was suggest she read the book, because it has carved itself on to my bloody bones. All I can say is thank you for sharing this with us @inkskinned .

[nosebleedclub]

@inkskinned’s book finally arrived!!! Starting it now!

[tendersugars]

least favorite short fiction trend right now is when the author feels the need to grab you by the shoulders with shaking hands at the end and say "see? isn't my story so Good and Meaningful? incase you didn't get that i'm going to explain it to you in great detail. please think my story is Good and Meaningful. please. it's all i have."

[diomedrian]

Humouring more colours

[pookeeta]

[wordslaver]

Have you ever woke up feeling like your skin have been screaming from how much you've missed someone

[vivienaaren]

“there’s an app for that.”

maybe, but i’ll still stick sticky notes to the walls in an array of colors and i’ll use handwritten recipes stained with food and sweat, written in a script so similar yet different to my own. my journals will be leather bound and real, receipts stuck to the pages. i’ll make homemade cards even if the writing is crooked and i’ll remember that my life is not dictated by a four by six inch block. because while there maybe an app for reminders, there’s not one for homemade and handwritten love.

[fantodsdhrit]

like Juniper you, on her eye

an hold today's patience my agrestal train locomotive perishes atop your left breast headaches of soliloquies of blood known only by its fox like flat hunger at your belly button in need to look sullenly sprightly in music videos — heaviness as the night Creation mis-remembers, Kamasutra commentary of a headlessness starving or — im Sorry how you and her are, are proposed to, as i lave reassurance by a lake's name — in your comment section: men taking on gods, forging published anthologies that open with a Latin shloka you say, we are less astute than time and what it reveals with rutilant nakedness, unseen as traintracks in Bangladesh floods

[fantomartz]

If The Train Was Coming

Yeah so… I cooked, turns out @silverskye13’s Redstone and Sculk has overtaken my mind completely, and then I saw Inkskinned’s poem the other day and well, I made connections; tumblr killed the quality but ah well

[silverirony]

i don't know how this is handled in the books (yet) but I think it's a shame we don't see river properly deal with spider's death in the show. I'm always a sucker for broken-up friendships for reasons that are not deeply personal or anything but I just wish we saw that explored more. this whole idea of. this person was my only friend and we went through so much together we got tortured together and they still betrayed me and I lost everything because of them. and this dilemma of now they're dead and Im sad about it even though I hate them and I miss how things used to be and this person I'm mourning isn't the same as the person who died. and it's the greatest tragedy ever !!!! pls I just needed like 1 proper scene where river gets to sit with it without getting pushed into a car and almost killed again,