enshijou

[enshijou]

p.s @lunaetis, peach tea and soft blankets / plushies also saved the day... 🥺 thank goodness for both.

my poor brain is having a moment overthinking and fretting when it has absolutely no reason to. 😔 curling up into a ball and gently hiding... i'll get through it, i will, i will. i'm being silly for no reason.

[enshijou]

yet clasping nothing but empty air

[enshijou]

so. my little blog clean up is complete and ready to begin again hopefully tomorrow. will not be able to get to tonight as planned, for my little sisters invited me for an impromptu game night which was brilliant fun and really brightened mood. one hundred per cent, tomorrow or the weekend. i have one ask, two drafts. one more day of work. also will write up a tiny hiatus notice in the next few weeks as i go once again to indulge in concerts and musicals.

my poor brain is having a moment overthinking and fretting when it has absolutely no reason to. 😔 curling up into a ball and gently hiding... i'll get through it, i will, i will. i'm being silly for no reason.

[enshijou]

sometimes you wake up on a random tuesday morning and cry about persona 3 again

[enshijou]

@enshijou said: ' there's a faint flame in your heart… it's asking if you wish to live. ' ( also for miss chidori if you wish !!! )

"I don't wish for anything." That's the price I paid to live at all. That's why I'm like this. Because I will die and I will be young and the only people who will care about it at all will probably die before me. Chidori's hands still on her sketchbook and curl around the long thin spiral edge, perhaps hard enough to leave little red indents on the inside of her palms. "Don't ask stupid questions." Don't ask me again: I don't want to think about it. Because wishing doesn't change the truth. Memento mori has never been a kind thought for her. Against her will, and maybe because Death is cruel, and even though it's hot, it shivers and the gesture rips through her frame even through the swaths of lacey fabric and the black velveteen bolero it's wearing over its huge princess sleeves. Medea and the suppressants have been especially hard on it as of late. She is so cold.

Chidori's head bends, neck elongating like a swan's, red hair spilling down over the graphite sketches of her book. Don't look at me is played in a way that tries its best to masquerade as callous indifference. They wish only to draw and capture these moments while they can and just...forget. "A flame...hmph. What terrible poetry, Mochizuki."

[enshijou]

' change is coming fast, for you and for me. '

shinjiro lets out a long breath , his eyes sticking to the simmering sunset on the horizon while mochizuki's words echo around in his skull . change is coming fast . it already has , really . fast enough to leave him dizzy ; reeling . ever since he woke up in that hospital bed , things have been constantly transforming all around him . whatever change mochizuki has suddenly decided to prophesize must be one hell of an upheaval . he could get nauseous just thinking about it .

" what makes you say that ? " shinjiro instinctively believes his junior , but skepticism pours out of his mouth anyhow . it has a habit of doing that . it always sounds way harsher than he means , too -- thankfully , anyone who's bothered to stick around doesn't particularly mind . " ' cause i'd rather change stay the hell away from me for a minute , actually . "

[enshijou]

hopefully one draft today after work, if not 100 per cent by the weekend. i am also going to pencil in a little blog tidy up as well.

my poor brain is having a moment overthinking and fretting when it has absolutely no reason to. 😔 curling up into a ball and gently hiding... i'll get through it, i will, i will. i'm being silly for no reason.

[enshijou]

my poor brain is having a moment overthinking and fretting when it has absolutely no reason to. 😔 curling up into a ball and gently hiding... i'll get through it, i will, i will. i'm being silly for no reason.

[enshijou]

^^^ these are the kind of emotional responses i love eliciting in my replies... i am so very sorry and also not... 🥺🫂🥺 emotions are always too great when i write.

[enshijou]

[enshijou]

and how it did unravel into what seemed like one million tiny threads of nocturnal twill, accompanied by the smallest of lights that bore witness to this quiet confession time and again. would there be anything at all left after such undoing ? fear is what kept from confiding to dearest friend who was imagined, no, certain to recoil from what such weighted realisations could bring. everything that was would no longer be and assured to quickly fade into the cacophony and confusion of own existence. words being shared sink like a pebble in the ink – black waters of contemplation, uncertain as to what its fate is once relinquished from sight or grasp. it becomes one with intangibility, among several others of its kind. many thoughts are being ruminated upon all at once. aside from stellar companions, so distant from reach, there is another to bear witness to everything at this time.

the smile that had once greeted him has dissipated, listening carefully and bestowing insight into such philosophical musings that attempted to make some desperate sense of themselves. the very soul that initiated impromptu, yet pensive conversation is several steps ahead, already aware and wholly assured of the answer. is there such a thing as a soul or a heart being truly complete and satisfied within a lifetime ? it only thinks it can be enriched once it obtains what is believed to be its greatest desire and then, it is not long before curiosity delicately peeks its head and wonders what else could lie in wait. dreams, fate, circumstance. all have their part to play in this peculiar symphony, the total definition of self. a work in progress, slowly manifesting under the lone eye of the full moon.

eyes gently avert from the one that has taken hold of own dilemma for the time being with patience and unwavering thought, the revelation of utter truth. indulging in temporary fantasy would be of no benefit to anyone. but, how it is kinder. it spares the need for a heart to suffer. the soul would not ever need to know of the finality that the name of ‘ death ‘ brings. in turn, there would be no flourishing or development of the human spirit. it would be nurtured on the sweetness of daydreams and the childlike promise of forever. days upon days upon days of halcyon and sunshine.

the universe has long since ordained that there is equilibrium in all things. day and night, life and death, the most beautiful of joys and the most painful of sorrows. existence would not be considered as whole should all negative facets be deprived. there is that word again. whole. complete. understood. is such why humanity is so enticing and beloved by you, its antithesis masquerading as ghost – like flesh ? for, despite thinking that there finally could be some gained insight into the most subdued and mysterious personas, there is always several facets awaiting to be discovered. an endearing complexity.

enough time has been spent wondering about the correct path. stay and see everything come to its eventual conclusion or leave prematurely and become lost in never knowing what could have been ? mentions of said power and possibility turn to ice within veins, not fitting of station. that is an aspect that can not be influenced in any way. it can only be terminated and set aside for a greater force to utilise for their own agenda. death is merely a conduit for revolutionary plans.

‘ how is it that you manage to stay so assured of everything ? ‘ there is not a shred of sharpness within such words. it is a plea to understand how, if possible, to gain back the feeling of being self - assured. as if anything and everything was possible. think about what you can control. think about the choice that shall influence everything in the silent moments to come. that can not be fled from, try as one might. choice is what composes the outcome of fragile and fleeting life. make it count. and once decided, have no regret in your choice. hold tight to it and see it though.

 he  just  listened  to  the  quiet  confession  unraveling  in  the  moonlight.  the  fear.  the  doubt.  the  raw,  honest  terror  of  a  being  staring  into  the  engine  room  of  their  own  soul,  afraid  to  touch  any  of  the  buttons.  it  was  a  familiar  song,  but  played  on  a  strange,  ethereal  instrument  he'd  never  heard  before.

(  i  might  not  like  who  i  become.  i  could  bring  harm.  the  universal  anthem.  the  one  they  sing  when  the  crown  is  offered,  and  they  suddenly  realize  how  heavy  it  is.  )

his  usual  smirk,  the  easy  mask  he  wore  for  the  world,  had  long  since  dissolved.  it  had  no  place  here.  he  stood  by  the  water's  edge,  a  tall,  silent  figure  against  the  shimmering  black  glass,  letting  their  words  land.  letting  them  be  real  in  the  quiet,  sacred  space  between  them.  he  wasn’t  a  god  here.  he  was  a  witness.

“you  won’t.”  his  voice  was  a  flat,  quiet  thing.  a  single,  polished  stone  of  truth  dropped  into  the  swirling  waters  of  their  anxiety.  it  cut  through  the  philosophical  fog  with  a  chilling  finality.

he  turned.  not  to  face  them  fully,  but  just  to  look  at  them  over  his  shoulder.  his  blindfolded  face  was  an  unreadable  canvas,  but  his  presence  was  a  heavy,  grounding  anchor  in  the  misty  uncertainty.

“you  think  becoming  ‘whole’…  ‘complete’…”  he  said  the  words  as  if  they  were  foreign,  slightly  ridiculous  concepts.  “…is  going  to  make  you  happy?  make  you  a  ‘good  person’?  that’s  a  fairy  tale  for  children.  something  they  tell  you  before  you  learn  that  there  are  no  monsters  under  the  bed,  because  they’re  sitting  at  the  dinner  table  with  you.”  he  finally  turned  all  the  way,  facing  them  across  the  small  patch  of  grass.  the  moonlight  sculpted  his  form,  making  him  look  less  like  a  man  and  more  like  a  piece  of  forgotten,  divine  statuary.

“power  isn’t  a  gift.  it’s  a  tool.  a  scalpel  in  one  hand,  a  hammer  in  the  other.  and  it  doesn't  matter  how  you  get  it.  it  isolates  you.  it  makes  you  a  target.  it  turns  you  into  a  storm  front,  and  people  have  to  decide  whether  to  run  for  cover  or  get  swept  up  in  the  wind.  the  person  you  ‘become’  when  you  accept  that  missing  piece…  you  probably  won’t  like  them  at  all.  they’ll  be  dangerous.  they’ll  be  lonely.  they’ll  see  the  world  in  a  way  that  makes  it  impossible  to  go  back  to  blissful  ignorance.  every  choice  will  feel  like  a  compromise.  every  victory  will  feel  like  a  loss  for  someone  else.”  he  took  a  slow  step  forward.  then  another.  collapsing  the  distance  between  his  cold,  hard-won  clarity  and  their  warm,  nebulous  fear.

“you’re  right  to  be  afraid.”  he  said,  his  voice  a  low,  intimate  murmur,  a  shared  secret  between  two  impossible  beings.  “being  afraid  means  you’re  not  an  idiot.  it  means  you  understand  the  stakes.  it  means  you  still  have  something  left  to  lose.”  he  stopped  right  in  front  of  them.  his  unseen  eyes  were  a  focused,  unwavering  force.

“but.”  his  lips  curved  into  something  that  wasn't  quite  a  smile.  a  faint,  knowing,  almost  sad  twist  of  the  mouth.  a  look  of  bitter  kinship.  “harming  those  you  care  about?  that's  not  about  what  you  are.  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  piece  you're  missing.  it’s  about  what  you  do  when  the  power  is  in  your  hands.”  his  voice  dropped  to  a  final,  quiet  whisper.  a  dare.  a  push  off  the  ledge  into  the  cold,  clear  air.

“you  think  i  like  being  what  i  am?  it’s  a  cage.  a  gilded,  spacious,  comfortable  cage,  but  a  cage  all  the  same.  but  i’m  the  strongest.  and  because  of  that,  every  single  day,  i  get  to  choose  what  kind  of  prisoner  i’m  going  to  be.”

“so.  stop  obsessing  over  who  you  might  become.”  the  hint  of  a  grin  returned,  but  it  was  different  this  time.  less  mischief,  more  sharp,  surgical  focus.  a  teacher  at  the  chalkboard.  “and  start  deciding  what  you’re  going  to  do  with  the  choice  you’ve  been  given.”

[enshijou]

speaking of concerts, sometimes i do find it so hard to believe this little blog has seen more than six years worth of them inbetween times... head in my hands on this sunday afternoon thinking of how old i feel... and myself thinking i would have only pursued this blog for a day due to lack of confidence. hiding.

going to concerts with my mother who did influence my music tastes growing up, almost 27 years old and still asked for my age when going through security and frisk searches... 🤣 i am and do feel old in spirit sometimes, i promise. one little draft to work on today, which i hope to get out soon.

[enshijou]

going to concerts with my mother who did influence my music tastes growing up, almost 27 years old and still asked for my age when going through security and frisk searches... 🤣 i am and do feel old in spirit sometimes, i promise. one little draft to work on today, which i hope to get out soon.

[enshijou]

l - r : durandal (hi3) / dainsleif (genshin) / ami mizuno (pgsm) / prompto argentum (ffxv) / ✨ blorbo... ✨ / viktor (arcane) / yoite (nabari no ou) / lune (e33) and xion (kingdom hearts).

✧ — tagged by : @kasoujin ! ( thank you, thank you, thank you always ! ) ✨🫂

✧ — tagging : @lunaetis / @767mphs / @cosmama / @foolshoujo and absolutely anyone else that would like to steal this, as i have seen it about on the dash as of late !

[enshijou]

Zhu Xiang, from a poem titled "Reply to a Dream," featured in Modern Chinese Poetry: An Anthology

[enshijou]

@cosmama mother... she's here... 🥺🫂🥺

[enshijou]