emos-in-2020s-still-exist

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

i have a friend, who i appreciate so much. because they listen. where others make vague sounds and acknowledge me, and i know they aren't interested but make the effort to pretend, and i like that too, but this person. they listen. they lean in, they make the effort to ask and understand what random thing i have just said. they react. even though i know that they normally wouldnt give a shit about it, but for me they made an effort to actually care about what i said. its not that im special, but they are nice. my heart swells whenever this happens.

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

"Stardew is so relaxing" can not be me. I'm sweating. I've maximized the perfect time to upgrade my tools while going to catch seasonal fish. I got a pig to give me truffle with a 1 day margin of error (I had to upgrade the barn twice and buy a pig in 12 days). I've currently got 4 rabbits trapped and will execute them individually if they do not give me a foot by the end of winter. I'm stalking the beaches like batman awaiting a nautilus. I will complete this community center by the end of the year so help me stardew gods. I've talked to the towns folks maybe three times since moving in. Penny and Elliot are my only friends because I had their favorite gifts in my inventory and realized it was their birthday while checking the board. I accept no time lost. Winter is here. I shall not rest.

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

how do you cope in a family that will never truly accept who you are?

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

sometimes, in order to survive, i feel i must cut myself apart and show only the pieces that make me look normal

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

reblogged the wromg stuff lol thats supposed to be for my other acct, but ill keep it up anyway?

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

Every Friday, millions of Yemenis, themselves survivors of genocide, protest the genocide of Gaza

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

Justice for predestrogen.

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

tw: non graphic and bodily harm, can be read as abusive relationship

i have the ugly want to be loved.

not love as in care. no. love me; adore me, worship me, act like you can't breathe without me. look at me like i hung the moon; look at me like you'd let me hang you. hold my flesh but treat me like an inhuman, like im more than just a person with flaws and more a force so magnetic you can't let go. feel my warmth but adore the cold and jagged parts of me, touch them and let them stab you over and over. give me the love to destroy you over and over if i wanted to; trust me to not.

ah, but in the end, this desire is only a guttural scream to be loved unconditionally. i do not want to hurt you. i want you to be happy. i just want to be happy. i just want to be happy. i want a love with no ulterior motives that goes to the moon and back. what about me makes me so unworthy of that?

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

i want to shut everything up. make it stop, stop talking to me, stop giving me notifications, stop asking about me, stop asking for me. just shut up, everything.

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

I LOVE YOU !!!!!

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

it is christmas.

i look at this impersonal gift i have been given and think, well, i didn't give them any hints anyway.

and i'm already happy, because i don't need that sort of thing anyway.

i choose to stay a while instead of going back to room, back to sleep.

merry christmas; i choose to stay with you.

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

it's immensely tragic and fucked up but also a little funny when someone is so incapable of accepting that they're worthy of love and affection without any kind of justification or ulterior motive that you have to wrap it up in some kind of practical reasoning like hiding a pill in ham and peanut butter to make your dog think they're getting a tasty treat. come closer, sharing body heat will help us both keep warm [waits until you're settled comfortably in my arms] and i like spending time with you and just being near you. lmao. get loved idiot.

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

“Please don’t expect me to always be good and kind and loving. There are times when I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to understand.”

— Sylvia Plath

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

//tw: blood//

was it a crime! was it a crime to want to be loved?!

was it a crime! i scream and plead– silently, all the same, i pray my gaze haunts you– i kneel on gravel and glass and blood, shattered pieces digging into my skin as they always have been. i kneel, i kneel so familiarly for i have never left this spot– and i scream and plead (silently)! was it a crime?!

the glass on the floor comes from my heart. it was a fragile little thing, newly created, finely molded– made for love to be poured in and out. how finely crafted it was! it seemed it would never run out. so i showed off my fine, luxurious glass sculpture; i called it “love”, and how i loved to show it off! they delighted, i delighted, we rejoiced. the warmth reflected a billion suns into my heart and onto theirs.

i do not know who, i do not know when. i do not even know where the glass first cracked. maybe it was when, it reflected more brilliantly, and though i worried for my heart i thought if it was so beautiful still, it must be fine. it must be amazing, even! i called it “growing up”. they called it similarly, said it was the mark of a love that mattered. they said it assuringly, so i paid it no heed. 

the shrine on which i placed my heart was made of gold. it gleamed and shone even when the wine and merrymaking of other people spilled and stained; it was beautiful all the same. these stains were “experiences”, “life”. i wondered if i should clean it, but they said no need; it was the stains that made it that much more beautiful. so it stayed, it stayed, it stayed.

before i had realized it, my shrine was covered in grime and dust, the heart which i had so proudly placed upon it filled with cracks and held together through a miracle. I dared not call it God’s– was i not too presumptuous of my own lovability, to call myself worthy of something so pure? God or none, my heart sculpture stood gleaming, beautiful, broken.

was it still beautiful? i did not know, but i trusted your words– even when everyone left, i trusted you! your words, claiming every crack reflected more warmth and every stain was a mark of something greater– something to be loved for! i took that warmth from your embrace– my only source left– and cut myself making it glow in my heart. the blood flowed from my palms (warm, alive) and the glass sculpture shattered.

the remains of me lay on the ground. i turned to you; i thought you’d like it.

why do you not love me anymore?

glass broken, palms bleeding, grainy gravel digging into my knees, i beg and plead silently (but screaming all the same! see it in my eyes!), was it a crime?! don’t look at me in that way– just answer me! was it a crime?! was it a crime to want to be loved?!

[emos-in-2020s-still-exist]

i want to love you well. i want someone to love you the way you want to be loved. i want you to choose me. look at me the same way i look at you. keep me in your thoughts the same way you are in mine. i'm writing this at 1am having thought of you for the last minute, last hour, last week, last months. i want-