hajicide - Tumblr blog

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oh i made a new batch of stuff recently, i'll sell them at angouleme christmas market (france)!! well, this also means, some photos of my babies during the next few days!!!!

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"Heart For Brains" by Roar / "We're In Love" by boygenius / "If Blue Could Be Happiness" by Florist / "From Eden" by Hozier

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my mother was a chronic smoker, going through six cigarettes a day and then some. for my entire life, it was a bad habit she never seemed to shake. her car smelt like ash and her breath smelt like those rancid cigs she smoked, but after a while it started to smell like home.

when i'm far away from her now, i smoke in the sweatshirt i stole from her closet so that when im too tired to remember my inhibitions, i can wrap my arms around myself and pretend that i'm a little girl again and she's holding me.

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Productivity Check:

Today for school, I outlined my essay and wrote 407 words for it. I also did a discussion post and studied for my midterms for two hours. I spent approximately five hours in the library working on various assignments - yay!

I also cooked some breakfast for myself, sorted some laundry, and am planning to wash my blanket when I get home this evening!

Overall, today has been a pretty good day in terms of getting stuff done. Hopefully, I'll have some more free time tomorrow to get some more housework done.

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i've slept with my window open since i was a child, because i wanted to see the stars before i slept. the stars were so clear from my childhood bedroom: bright and shining down through my blinds.

now, all grown up and 3,000 miles away from home, i still sleep with the window open. the not-dark sky leers down at me, starless from the pollution of the city. if i squint my eyes and look down to the streetlights, i can almost pretend.

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anticipated stranger, john ashbery

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from In the House With No Doors by Sarah Kay

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29/07/2023 - 00:17

i'm worried that no one is ever going to love me the way i love them. i know that i fall in love too quickly and too easily and it's something i'm trying to change so i can protect my heart, but i'm so scared that no one will ever love me in that way.

this fear only recently started to manifest. i've been reading stories about weddings and proposals and how in love people are with each other and with life and i'm so, so scared that i'm never going to be able to experience that. sure, i've loved people that have loved me in return before, but it's never lasted. something always changes between us, either time or maturity or distance and it's all so disheartening because i gave them my everything only to be left alone, again.

i just want to be loved.

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some student struggle meals lol! sometimes a person needs to eat two tubs of cherry tomatoes and an entire carton of take-out rice

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i'm getting a tattoo today! i'm super excited for it :D

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"la jolla" by wilbur soot / "bigger than the sky" by taylor swift / "garden song" by phoebe bridgers / "just for today" by clairo

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some more travel photos!

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24/07/23 - 00:03

I hate being the youngest daughter. My older sisters are kinder than me and prettier than me and more successful than me and I am so, so jealous and bitter because of it but so guilty because I love them and I want them to be happy. I hate being compared to them, I hate the way they look at me with disdain because I got everything they never could. The opportunities, the love, the pressure, the dreams, the care from our father and mother.

I wish they'd gotten everything I did. I wish they got the love, the care, the place at the dinner table. I wish they'd understand the belittlement I faced, the "you'll understand when your older" and the "why can't you be more like your sisters" and the "you should just stay home, your sister's did when they graduated!"

I love my sisters but I hate the comparisons. I hate being forced into their mold, I hate that they got to carve their own ways in life but I'm expected to follow their footsteps. I hate that my sister was forced to give up her dancing to become a banker. I hate that my other sister quit music to become a mother. I hate that I had to leave them behind so I could pursue my art.

I hate being the youngest daughter. I hate having generations of women from my family all look to me to carry on the dreams they never got to fulfill. I hate the way my sisters look with me with envy and pride when I tell them all about my adventures on the other side of the country. I hate that I am everything they wanted to be and everything my parents despise. I hate that I took everyone's expectations and dreams and carried them on my shoulders. I hate that I left my own dreams in the dust.

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i have become a café and museum dweller during my time in nyc !

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plastic air

i breathe with assistance and it is only  through the graces of my parents  that i may survive, oxygen  pumped in through plastic tubes from metal tanks—  stolen air from the world to supply a selfish girl a few more chances at loving—  through my lungs to jumpstart my heart. the doctor  whispers her condolences at a daughter  half dead, a daughter with affliction.  i pretend i do not hear it. she  wishes you well and walks you to the door,  leaving me behind, drowning  in machinery and tubes, adorned in pastel blue of hospital gowns. i long for your return, to sit up and tell you  i’m alright:  “look mother, i can breathe on my own”  and for you to smile, caress my cheek like a mother should, gracing me with a warm smile like they do in the movies, but  you never return when i’m awake.

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there is kindness and beauty and love in the world