acelestialorca

[acelestialorca]

Oh the waltz of jealousy and guilt, how we dance through the night and scream through the day.

It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, take my hand, and show me the rhythm that leads us deeper.

I'll follow your lead as mine can not be trusted tonight. Who knows the spiralling heights it would trespass

[acelestialorca]

Ugh wanting to get writing my next creative piece like my one on identity (but this time with video stuff) but unlike that one where i wasnt out of the hole fully yet but could still reflect on how far id come, this next idea im still deep in the hole, and writing about it when you cant even see the way out is not great for whats supposed to be a reflective piece about love, and the state of modern relationships-

[acelestialorca]

Listening to this absolute BANGER recently a lot, gets me in the feels you know, recommend all this guys stuff so hard

[acelestialorca]

Who am I, and What am I meant to do?

or

Why is Salted Caramel so good?

Hello! My name is Sky, and I have no idea whats going on

TW//brief mentions of alluding to suicide and death later

Script to read along below

Wow well done Sky, very profound and new idea you’ve had there, oh whats this? ancient Greece called they want their obvious philosophical statements back. But it is and like most people on this rock I can't help but think about it, talking more than my woke transgender identity too here buckaroo, we gonna be talking about the whole shebang, who am I, why am i here, why is salted caramel so good (not identity related I just want to know), all important questions im gonnaaaa uhh have a good think about for sure I’ve always kind of struggled with grasping hold of a rigid sense of identity, I’ve never been too sure of who I am y’know, obvious things come to mind like how I’ve still not settled on a specific gender, more just vaguely ointing in a direction and saying “yea its over there”, but also weird stuff like aesthetics, I have a whole identity crisis anytime I need to design something to represent me, website styles, tumblr layouts, fucking minecraft skins. I never know what is ‘right’, everytime I’d try something it wouldn’t be me, I can easily list things that aren’t, but what is? So how does anyone find out their deep personal sense of identity? Online quizzes of course! So I took a bunch: -My MBTI type is INFP-T -I’m a Pisces moon capricorn rising…I don’t know what that means -If I was any Doctor Who character I’d be checks notes The Doctor (really out of all of them? ok?) -My warrior cats name would be Medic AppleFace…. What? -The big 5 called and said im 73% openness, 25% conscientiousness, 69% extraversion, 54% agreeableness and 60% neuroticism -If i were a clown or mime i’d be a Pierrot mime -I’d be a psychic type pokemon -and a random quiz defined my entire personality as ‘The Poet’

So there we go, essay over, we know who I am and we can all leave, sit back down, we're not done here at all.

These things aren’t me, if i pointed to them and said to someone “look do you get it, do you understand” they wouldn't, because the bit of ourselves that these reveal are basically just pin badges to stick on your backpack so people can start conversations from common ground. “Omg you’d be a Psychic type pokemon? Me too! Lets get dinner Medic AppleFace”. They’re nice ways to connect to people because we as a species fucking love labels and little boxes we can fit into with other people.  

So what is identity if not that, why do we care. It probably differs for everyone but the general sense of identity is made up of what we like, How we act, what we think of things, what we think of and how we got here, the thing is none of these are stable or set in stone, they all change over time and yet I’m still me, I think? But to what degree? If we consult the ship of theseus (My 1 year of Philosophy undergraduate coming in clutch) there's a few different answers to this, I could still be me, just no doubts about it it’s all me, this usually comes from a temporal continuity standpoint, you can trace a path in both space and time from the moment I was born to now without either line breaking (I dont know what would happen if I had time travelled or…fallen into the fucking backrooms but thats besides the point), this means that as long as that line remains intact the being at the start and end are the same, no matter how much of me has changed, my likes, dislikes, personality, its still me! Another possibility is that I’m not the same person, ever, every second we are changing so every second a new me is destroyed and born from the ashes, a constant cycle of changing forever, never truly able to settle on a rigid sense of self, quantum beings always in infinite states, only standing still for a moment when observed by another, their limited views of who you are, that limit allowing for an image of you to last longer than when viewed in a mirror

I think it's a mix of the two (I know very brave of me, oh sky how do you sit so well on that fence without tumbling into the field on either side, but shhhh). While I think it is true that technically because we are always changing in minute ways we are never the same person for more than a fraction of a second, I dont think it's helpful to this conversation because at the end of the day I am still me, my memories are all there, my continuity, and I am aware of how I have changed overtime, you can trace the lines over and over again and you wont find a breakage because from birth to now, i am me.

But what about other people? We are all so unique and different, is everyone feeling this way? If someone asked me to describe my sense of identity I truly wouldn't know what to say, so I did just that. I asked people to describe their sense of identity, whatever that meant to them. What I immediately found upon saying actual words to real human beings rather than talking to myself outloud in my room, parroting a cycle of identity themed questions until I happen upon the answer like it's the goddamn one piece, is that everyone's interpretation of personal identity is very different, and I don't mean their identities are, i mean what they consider to be the important parts. When I asked people to describe their personal identity the themes that popped up were vastly different, one friend went into detail on her traits and ideals, the type of person she sees herself as and what she aims to accomplish as well as her drive to work hard and how punishing that can be, whereas another brought up a topic that I, the very white british girl, didn’t even think about cause its so far from being an important part of my identity, culture! They went into great detail about their sense of culture based on their heritage and its links to family names with such excitement to talk about it that it clearly is a core part of their identity, mix that with 60’s and 70’s era of music spiritualism and a religious/spiritual upbringing and these key parts of their identity all made sense knowing who they are. So I wonder how it is that so far of the people I’ve asked, most of them had a grasp on their identity that I cannot seem to comprehend, when they all look inwards they see a marble, its center swirling with these different parts of them that they all hold dear, ready to point to and show off to the world. “This! This here, this is me! You understand right?” and I feel like I do as much as an outsider can, and with this realisation further into the spiraling rabbit hole I went to find the center of myself, if there even is one. When someone asks who are you I look inside to try and present my marble, its cracked exterior from which the contents leaked out reflecting the light of their expecting gaze “No no there’s something there, look closer I promise” But maybe there isn’t At least not that I can see What about them? What do they all see?

I find thinking about how people see me as both deeply interesting and deeply terrifying, of course the idea of people seeing me and thinking about me when i’m not around is quite endearing (Wonder what it says about me that just knowing people think about me is enough to make me blush) but their perspective of me is scary to think about. Not in a “oooh i'm scared of what people think about me, what if they think im cringe” way because i luckily started to shed that recently and i don't really care if people think i'm odd, no i mean their limited view of who I am, their reductive sense of me and if it's wrong, or the scarier reality. What if its right?

Sometimes a friend will say to me or about me while i'm around “Sky seems like the type to do so and so” and honestly a lot of the time they are way off, I think at one point a friend said I was the type to have personal beef with a specific squirrel??? Like I don’t think that's accurate to me at all and yet people agreed, it could be that we are beings that cannot be self reflective because the truest version of ourselves is the one in the minds of those we love, our internal sense of selfhood is all well and good but your actions speak a lot louder about who you are, you can't be a kind person because you think you are, you need to be kind, and that comes naturally to some and is worked on by others. How right are our own ideas of who we are anyway? Sometimes I do and say things that are the complete opposite of who I imagine myself to be, mirrors are flipped and photos are two dimensional, is the only way to truly know ourselves to ask those around us? I also asked people how they view me to see what the image in their head of me looks like, and I got responses I was not expecting, one described me as bounding joy shifting and changing with spiritual vibrato, 90s bus seat mixed with LSD, I thanked them for this because it sounded like a compliment, that seemed like an energy that I would be happy to be imagined like, but is it actually me? How could people know who I am when they only see glimpses, sick masked performances designed to wow people and inspire feelings of “she is so funny and well put together”, while I hide the truth of my reality behind the closed doors and turned off lights, lest they illuminate that I don’t have a clue who I am or what I’m doing. The difference in rigidity also stood out to me, when asked about ourselves people come up with their own interpretations of what the question means but still seem to grasp and link to more tangible concepts to represent themselves, culture, religion, ideals, goals, traits. All things you can observe and comment on, but when asked about other people we lean abstract, compare to old friends, 8-bit kirby theme songs, and terrible 90s design choices, maybe because thats all these little windows into our souls we show people can be, i said our sense of selves are akin to being quantum, that seems to be more true than I originally thought, not only are we ever changing and only stopping for moments in the eyes of those we hold dear, but when we are observed we are not the same, our identity is altered by the simple act of being around people (see the observer effect). So can it be trusted? If you ask people what you are like in their eyes and you get conflicting answers, is anyone involved lying? They’re not that's just how they see you, so is it us? Am I lying to people, grabbing anything I can find to jam into the marble anytime someone is around, oil and water to bound around each other the way a soul should in order to feign identity, to pretend to be a real person. Am I a real person?

I can’t talk about and explore my sense of identity without mentioning the wooly mammoth of an elephant in the room that is gender. So I’m trans, if you’re new here and that's news to you hiya! I’m very open about this and would basically tell anyone, I don't hide it, its something I’m proud of and more importantly its something I feel I need to be open about, when I first came out to myself every trans person I saw living unapologetically as themselves spurred me to keep going, and thats partly why despite the years of thinking about not being alive anymore, whether I wanted to see to that myself or the majority of times where I just thought of all the ways it could happen to me instead, smiling as I think of the car, Swerve smash gone. Or the late night walks home gone right, despite all of that I’m still here and so I owe it to the world to pay that back. So is being transgender part of my identity? As I’ve been writing this introspective piece the main wall I keep hitting is I cannot define identity for myself, I don’t think being trans is part of what I would consider my identity, I wish I did cause then it would be much easier to get the answer to it all but its not. It’s just something I am, being Bisexual isn’t a part, my love of doctor who isn’t, salted caramel being a damn good flavour isn’t either, maybe this whole problem is that I just need to learn to define it differently than I unclearly do, but if I do that then nothing would feel right ever again, those things aren’t my identity because if at the gates of oblivion I bare my soul and death looks inside and sees it stuffed full of pieces that we both know don’t belong, who am I then? Could I go gentle into that goodnight when the marble I take with me is patched with tape and bluetack

“Everyone wants somebody to understand their personality, and their childhood, and what each of those things have done to the other one” -Savannah Brown, Closer Baby Closer. And I do, that’s what all this comes down to, the need to be known. My pull towards understanding my identity lies further than just a desire to better understand myself, its a desire to be better understood by others. I want there to be someone who truly knows me and understands what it’s like to be me, how I feel when I’m happy, when I cry, how my love feels. When I leave this place I want to have had some kind of impact, and I dont mean a great, long standing legacy for the history books, I just need someone to have known what it was like, and until I know myself, I can’t get that.

So why write and record all of this, what's the point, am I doomed, are we all doomed? Did everyone just listen to me rant this whole time for the ending to be hopeless and sad? No of course not I wouldn’t just leave things there, here’s your answer: It’s really good because despite it just being caramel and salt, theres a new sense of identity within it once you begin to combine in the right quantities that goes beyond the physical, the image and idea of salted caramel’s identity is what matters, and it’s never the same each time. Sorry, actually though, what’s the point of it all? Well what I left out earlier in order to bring this whole thing back around onto a kind of lighter ending, is that when I asked people about their identity, for every person who gave me a well thought out essay of who they were, there was another who didn’t even know what I meant or  where to start, like me to them the question is too vast and complicated to even begin to write down what could be the “correct” answer. The ocean is oh so full of fish to reel in and proclaim as your prize but half of us don’t even have a rod, nevermind the fact we’ve never seen a fish. If you, reading or listening, also have no idea who you might be or where to begin the definition of you, then let me tell you based on what all of this thinking and writing has shown me, with or without a clear structure of identity you can translate to others. You are enough.

[acelestialorca]

I dreamt of him last night.

I was home, not the university home where I live alone most of the year, the place that should be such on a technicality. Nor the home I return to for short blips of holiday

I was home

The big old house I was raised in, my childhood contained with its walls provided by Nanna and Grandad. I was in the garden on the patio before the wall and gate that lead to the garden, vast and boundless to my young self; small, full of wonder.

I don't remember who I was with, or what we were doing but I was told to look left "look whos here"

I did, and sat ontop the wendy house roof, straining against its surface to counter the pull towards the ground much like I had for many years, there he was

It was wrong, but i didn't care, the most wonderful anachronism. The person I love in the place I long to be. I climbed up, i remembered the way, the exact path I took to reach the summit, how at the last point i needed to turn. Press my back against the wooden frame, feet on the shed nextdoor, and make one last jump for the peak

I sat next to him, body straining against its surface to counter the pull towards the ground.

"What are you doing here?" I dont think I full comprehended the weight of that sentence, the emphasis was on the What, but it should have been on the Here. I know youd come eventually, but why here, how here. What are you doing here?

"I want you back" that's all he said, like that answered everything, any question or doubt

"In what way?" memories of the real world crept in, the realisation after the breakup that it wouldnt have worked anyway, that we wanted different things, so this question was essential to the continuation.

He kissed me, and it felt like the first time, uncoordinated and reserved, but we found our rhythm .

Then I lost it again, head on pillow, eyes...

Opening

So yea weird one, woke up after a dream where my ex and I got back together, in my childhood home, ontop of a place few had been.

Why did my unconscious mind let him time travel to be in such a vulnerable and special place for this encounter?

Who knows, hope to record more dreams here!

[acelestialorca]

Got a thing in the works, stay tuned

[acelestialorca]

On my main I mentioned bird imagery romance songs preluding the end of relationships, so ill explain more here, for starters no I don't think theres some mass conspiracy or spiritual thing going on, its a weird coincidence, I said that to be kind of funny (which is why I do most things)

When I entered my first relationship, I around similar time heard the song 'Two Birds on a Wire' by Regina Spektor, great song do check it out. My relationship with this person was complicated, lets call them.... Hennessy, when it was good it was really good, but the bads were, not evil or abusive of course, just numb We both were going through some stuff, them more than me i think, and so they'd shut down a lot and repress feelings and emotions, one of these was the ominous reality that they did not love me, not even in a heartbreaking way where there was something wrong with me, they were, as it turns out, aromantic, and so the relationship ended in a very amicable and healthy way when we could really talk through it and I'm lying it was awful We had vaguely discussed it one night and left it there, and then I got a text the next day basically confirming it, oh did I mention I had left the county we both lived in to go to my first year of university a month before, overall a sense of not being loved for the year and half prior (a rationalising I've only just begun to reflect on and shake away), and being really alone for the first time in a new place, in a house share I hated all bubbled into the worst year of my life I think, and as that year began and the relationship ended, that song began to pop back up in my life, and listening to it made me cry as I thought about the plans we had and the life I wanted with them, but they seemed stuck in place, didn't move out for uni which meant we couldnt go to the same one etc etc That was around October 2022

Cut to October 2024, and hear a new song I like 'The Bird Song' by Noah Floersch featuring Em Beihold, again a banger. Its about two people who are not meant for each other, in fact who they are and what they want are very incompatible, but they ignore that and it kills one of them, takes the imagery of a Bird and and arrow, both flying through the air towards each other. Around this time I also met someone, lets call him Viktor. We hit it off so god damn fast, I always say to people, before him I'd only see someones eyes light up when doctor who was mentioned once before, and that was in the mirror- We starting dating mid november after a good amount of flirting, but just subtle enough to make me red string board in my mind about if he liked me- It was one of those moments where you meet someone and just know that, at least for some time, you're meant to be together, we just...fit Things were really really good, as they are at the start of these things, but I ignored something crucial, I want a more traditional romantic relationship, this was not that, not because it was non-monogamous, im up for that again for sure, but because we agreed to keep it low key, maybe not jump into labels, light and breezy you know? Thats what he wanted, and I (a liar) said I wanted to try that too, eventually things ramped up, he stayed over for the first time just before the christmas break at uni when he would go home for over a month, I'd then visit him during new years and meet his friends and parents, and at some point between staying the night, and me meeting family, we had become more serious, with more responsibility, and labels of 'Boyfriend' and 'Girlfriend' to match, and I loved it, I adored being a girlfriend, being someones something (not in an ownership way, we did not have that bdsm dynamic or any for that matter, but it made me feel really loved to be that to someone), what I didn't realise was I don't think he did, and I didn't know it but as I left him on the platform at the train station the day I was going home, I was leaving him for good, because after the longest 3 weeks ever (where our contact was frequent but distant at the same time) he came back. The first sign something was off was that I didn't know, none of this is more his fault than mine ofc, its who we are but ill get to that. He didn't tell me he was coming back to the town we study in, I found out after I had messaged him asking how his day was and he mentioned he was just back, my boyfriend was finally here again, a mere 20 minute walk away, and he didnt tell me. This stung a little but I didn't make a deal of it Its just if I was the one that was away, and I came back, I'd have told him the moment I knew (again not a dig, I think I know why he didnt and why I would have) Then we had a call, in which everything came out, I wont go too into depth about specifics of mental health cause even though i'm just calling him Viktor here, people who know me irl will still know who this is about, so general respect for privacy y'know, but he'd had some time alone, wrote stuff down and worked out that with where he was in life, and mental health, and emotions, he just wasnt ready for the kind of responsibility he thought the relationship now needed, combine that with him being worried about the potential deadline on the relationship (graduation, in a year) and thought about calling it off, we talked a little more and decided not to, phew. What I didn't tell him was I was thinking about doing my masters in his home city after uni ended, I loved him, and I wanted to be with him, but I hadn't brought that up because it was way too soon, and then it was way too late Too late because the next day I went over to his place, and we talked more, it got brought up again, and this time it was done, he called it off, we broke up.

I wont go how I reacted to this (well ill say the immediate, i shut down a bit, had a panic attack, cried, talked a bit more and decided to leave, you know general stuff) as the events of that night after I left his house is a whole different post (tldr; got drunk for the first time by myself in a city centre, not great as a woman).

Cut back to the bird song, two people who arent meant to be together in that way cause theyre just too different and cant really change who they are, trying to make it work and one of them annihilating the other, both end up feeling awful, one for what they have done, and the other for seeing it coming, not caring and then feeling stupid.

So yea, gonna be wary of bird related songs around when new relationships start-

Mahogany Tables o/

-Sky

[acelestialorca]

What is this place?

Hello welcome to my little hidden side blog! Here I will post my truest thoughts and feelings about my life and the people in it. If you are both of the following then proceed with caution -A person -In my life

That is because this place is for me to talk to the void about life, and so there's a chance you will get talked about here and the things I say are the ways I think and feel about such, I have this place for that as anytime I want to express my feelings in a written form I either have to massively cut them down for my main, or leave them in a private discord server for just me.

so again, proceed with caution, I will not be filtering things here (note I wont be directly naming people for general internet safety ofc), so if i say something that makes people look bad, thats how I see it. You wouldn't come into my home and shout at me for where I put the kettle.

Anyway thats all, if you dont know me and have stumbled upon this...uhhh hiya enjoy my soul! If I've told you about this place, you are welcome here If I haven't you still are, but be wary

[acelestialorca]

Take TWO tablets daily, Swallow whole, do not chew.

There's something so hypnotic about the way my body has begun to shift and mould into place, long after it should have, all from a daily pill. It acts as a messenger, roughly translating my sense of self sloppily onto its canvas, not caring about the parts it gets wrong, "its close enough, it will do" and it is, and it will.

I feel it working, not in a profound emotional way, I frankly don't feel emotionally different yet, i tell myself that its cause of the dosage, not enough messengers parroting the beautiful apparition of my muse, but a part of me is haunted by the notion that its working all that it can, and I'm forever unfixable.

No, I feel it in the light soreness of my budding nipple, a comforting pain that i momentarily regret every time I lightly bang my chest into something. I wonder which changes will come next from the list Ive fed myself for three empty years, will my face smooth amongst the viscous tides that sand its edges down, a rock in a sea of change and potential, yet some how always missing the current to sweep it to my feet, Or will it remain angular and jagged, pointed in places and very asymmetrical, very mine

Until then I wait, I'm in no hurry

"Omg Sky whats this, what does it mean??? Tell us!" I hear you all asking, yes yes gather round I'll tell you

Its about fucking HRT like yea obv- Wrote this little story thing (idk what this or any of the stuff here will be, its not a poem its just my thoughts) back in mid december about how wild it is that my body is now changing again cause of Estrogen, but in a way that makes sense Like im not transforming overnight, nor am i really transforming, i still look like me and I always will, same with how I act, outside of the general way people change overtime, thats not going anywhere.

These pills are not magic, i wont be anime transformation sequenced into the hottest girl in the world, ill be me but a bit more traditionally feminine, a random lass you'd see on a bus, and thats ok!

The emotional stuff still kind of rings true but not fully, around the end of last year some switch was finally flicked in my brain and now I have the ability to cry, however it chose to do this on a overstimulating day where I was leaving my (now ex) boyfriend for 3 weeks, leading to me having a breakdown in a Five Guys.

Not ideal

but now I can express emotions and cry which is cool i guess, still not as much as the "10 THINGS THEY DONT SAY WILL HAPPEN ON HRT" videos and blog posts told me I would, to them I would take a few estrodiol pills and become a blubbering mess, craving pickles and coding. None of which is me-

Anyway yes thats this post, see y'all around

Mahogany Tables o/