alosersjournal

[alosersjournal]

[alosersjournal]

i want someone to look at me & say damn that’s mine & just be so proud to have me

[alosersjournal]

each age

dear, one year old me: enjoy the feeling of being held. grab onto others while they don't hate you. two year old me: talk. listen to voices. they're not here forever. three year old me: the boys at preschool are nice, but they aren't forever. enjoy it. four year old me: soon you're going into school. five year old me: enjoy your kindergarten teacher. she is kind. she isn't staying around, so hug her when you can. six year old me: keep going to the park. there's so much beauty there. seven year old me: i know it's scary, but do your best. adjusting to new things is harder than you know. eight year old me: when your teacher screams at you, she doesn't mean it. nine year old me: savannah is kind. enjoy it. she will turn rotten and mean and cold and you'll leave this year with more pain than you've ever known. i am sorry. ten year old me: you'll survive. it'll be hard, but you can make it. being silent doesn't mean that you can't speak up, so never let others do it for you. and sometimes people will hate you, but that's all you can do. eleven year old me: being queer isn't a bad thing, no matter what mom and dad say. twelve year old me: there's lots of hiding this time. remember that your teachers don't hate you. try not to let it show on your skin.

[alosersjournal]

no matter what, im still your kid. ill always be, no matter how much i want to be seperated from that. ill always hear that i have your eyes, your gangly hands, your laugh, your outbursts, all of you. even after your poison's seeped into my skin and blackened my heart, i'm still your daughter. i will die your daughter.

[alosersjournal]

the day after death

the day after i killed myself, i pulled myself out of bed. i made myself tea, and i stood by the window just staring out at the grass. at nothing.

 no one is coming to save you.

the day after i killed myself, i went to school. i took the bus and i listened to shit music with my headphones plugged into my phone. weird albums, songs that swirl in your ear, all of that. and i stared out the window at the blurring trees.

get up. even on the right track, the train'll still kill you.

the day after i killed myself, i sat at my chair and stared at the whiteboard. words were on it, but they didn't make sense. swirled around like the songs on the bus. so i just sat there in silence as words shoved themselves into me, through me.

you won't make it. you can't die like this.

the day after i killed myself, i stared at my cold food at the cafeteria table, losing myself as my friends talked and talked. i stirred the milk in the carton with a dumb plastic spoon until it swung and swung like the words, like the songs, like everything my friends are saying. my friends?

you need to move, or you're going to die here and there's nothing anyone can do to stop you.

the day after i killed myself, i sat on my bed. nothing else was there. stripped of life. so i just sat there. even when i heard knocks on the door. even when i felt my body die just like my mind.

...

the year after i killed myself, i stare out the window and watch the world pass by. the train finally hit, and all i do is sip my tea and cry.

[alosersjournal]

[alosersjournal]

— “suddenly it’s december”, margaux paul

[alosersjournal]

there is a love in which i will always know you, just incase you forget.

love elizabeth s.

[alosersjournal]

on wishing things could've worked

anthems for a 17 year old girl - yeule / @/inanotherunivrse / astronomy - conan gray / waiting by the window - carl holsoe / it ain't me babe - bob dylan / your other half - jovana rikalo / i am an observer, but not by choice - fatima aamar bilal / scott pilgrim vs my gpa - mom jeans / @/pink-heart-writes / @/itchy-arms / solitaire - alice oseman / @/kaynineacademy /

[alosersjournal]

the weight of our sky / if i believe you - the 1975 / @/intheholler / take me to church - hozier / sacrificial lamb(josefa de ayala) / unknown / the ballad of jane doe / sun bleached flies - ethel cain / antigone(sophocles) / @/hcneymooners /

[alosersjournal]

gonna try to make one on ocd but there's NOTHING accurate in media im gonna lose my mind

[alosersjournal]

planning a new web weave! mostly a religious trauma/god looked the other way thing

[alosersjournal]

i know this might be controversial, but enough is enough.

as someone who grew up in the rigidity—and, at times, oppressive nature—of roman catholicism, i am so tired of the religious!reader trope where they’re portrayed as so innocent they’re practically a child. we were not innocent. we knew the names of our bodies, the weight of shame, and the crushing complexity of guilt. i knew that my vagina was a vagina.

the sheer amount of extremely innocent!religious!reader fics is unsettling. they turn the reader into this caricature—wide-eyed, naive, almost infantilized, complete with pigtails and an oversized cross necklace perfect for a porn video thumbnail.

for me—and for a lot of other lesbians i’ve bonded with over religious trauma—it was never about innocence. it was about guilt. guilt over pleasure, guilt over sin, and all the ways we punished ourselves for being human.

we weren’t these overgrown children teetering around in purity. we were messy, complicated, and burdened by shame in ways that were far more nuanced than these portrayals ever capture. enough, please.

[alosersjournal]

it’s awesome how we have unlimited chances to become a better version of ourselves

[alosersjournal]

buttered toast is a hug after a day buttered toast is a chair after a marathon buttered toast is a smile after a test buttered toast is the laughter after a joke.

buttered toast is "overrated."? or is it just popular. buttered toast is simple and famous but alone buttered toast is full of joy but can get empty if you're not careful

buttered toast is weird but it is sweet so i'll leave it out on a plate for you tonight, yeah?

written for @hisuncontrollableanger

[alosersjournal]

it comes and goes in waves

[alosersjournal]

some nights you'll just think but you aren't seventeen now not for a while, yeah.