intrusivemuses

[intrusivemuses]

The First and Last Prayer

*Song to set the mood: Love story - version Orchestra by indila

I have heard of gods— learned their names, whispered in reverence, stood in their houses with my hands clasped, listened as their faithful wept for salvation, but never have I known holiness in my own skin. Never have I trembled with the certainty of the divine.

Then I touched her— and divinity burned beneath my fingertips.

Now I know what it is to worship— not in their cold cathedrals,  not in whispered rosaries, but in the hush of her breath against my throat, in the golden press of her skin against mine, as if devotion was something to be touched, to be tasted.

And I unravel beneath her as she whispers truths no scripture ever held, soft confessions written in heat against my ribs. And I— I would kneel for this, for the sanctity of her hands, for the soft press of her mouth, for the way she makes surrender feel like rapture.

But they call this love a sin. They say my mouth defiles what it kisses, that my hands ruin what they hold, that our love is a wound in the world, a thing to be cast out, repented for, burned away.

But I refuse to believe the gods would see her, see the way she loves, see the way she makes the world softer, brighter, more alive and call it sin.

I refuse to believe that if the gods had eyes, they would look at her, trace the curve of her laughter, watch her place her hands upon me with such care— and turn away in disgust.

For what god would shape her from silk and fire, place her inside my chest like a second heartbeat, only to name me monstrous for loving her?

So let the heavens split, let the stars rain from their high and holy thrones— I will not release her. Because if the gods cannot bear witness to this love, then they were never gods at all.

[intrusivemuses]

tw: suicide, depression, mental health

In my opinion, one of the few emotions worse than being suicidal when you're depressed, is being indifferent. Not that you want to kill yourself, you just don't care whether you live or die.

The constant screaming in my brain, but too numb to care about it. The urge to find my blades, the desperation to, but lacking the capability of getting up.

[intrusivemuses]

After death, the human brain stays alive for seven minutes to relive its best memories.

You'd be my seven minutes <3

[intrusivemuses]

I'm thinking about you. I'm exhausted, but I'm awake so late, and I'm thinking about you. You're on the other end of the call, asleep. I wish I was in your arms. I think I'm falling in love with you. Correction, I know I am. Maybe I'm falling too fast or too hard. Maybe the words you're saying are just honey in my ear. But maybe they're not. Maybe you're falling for me too. It's been 46 days. How long does it take to fall in love? I've read that it averages 4-6 months. It's been 1.5. But already, you mean so much to me. I look at you, and I feel hope. Hope for a better life. Hope that maybe you feel the same about me. Silly little things that get me all blushing and embarrassed, that maybe if I said them, you would draw back and be... overwhelmed. Maybe I'll keep adding to this. Whenever I think about you. Maybe it's just some silly little dream. Wishful thinking. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and it will be January 31, 2023. I could change the trajectory of not just my life, but my family's. But what if the ripple effect takes you away from me? Even so, I'd always carry you with me. The way you look it me when you think I don't see it. When you remind me to eat or drink, to set my alarms. When you tell me you miss me. When you tell me that you like me so much and don't know how you got so lucky.

The truth is, I'm the lucky one. I don't think I've been the best person. I believe karma is out there for everyone. Maybe this year has been karma for some horrible sin in a past life. But these last 46 days? Maybe they're karma for something good. Maybe, somehow, in this vast existence, so uniquely fit to every individual, maybe somewhere along the line, I did something so extraordinarily life changing for someone else, or maybe a thousand somethings, to find you. The red string tied around my finger may not end at the string tied around yours, there's no way to know now, but at the very least, they intertwine. And for that, I am grateful and will sing a thousand praises to whichever deity thought we suited each other so well. Because karma alone couldn't have lit the match between us.

Maybe one day I'll share this with you. Just maybe. In the meantime, let's tie this string in knots.

[intrusivemuses]

There's nothing quite as raw as listening to Smells Like Teen Spirit while getting yourself off.

[intrusivemuses]

reblog if your name isn't Ashley.

2,121,566 people are not Ashley and counting!

We’ll find you Ashley.

[intrusivemuses]

i dont have sex because it serves no narrative purpose to me

[intrusivemuses]

The word love.

What does it even mean anymore?

Do we know?

Do I know?

I've always known love to be a selfless act of giving, caring, dying,

But when you're eager to give, care, die,

Whether for your best friend, sister, stranger on the street corner,

Is that really what love is?

I thought maybe love was when you wanted to spend every waking moment with someone,

But maybe that's just obsession

Love is defined as a "Deep affection for someone or something"

I hold these affections for my best friend, sister, the pure existence of beautiful, soulful people

When is it love? And when is it an obsession?

When am I too giving, caring, willing to die?

When is it too much? When am I too much?

[intrusivemuses]

I'm so tired. I just want something soft and safe and satisfying with someone.

[intrusivemuses]

[intrusivemuses]

you leave me dazed

like walking through a haze

thinking of you 

what you do

to me 

when no one can see

where no one can see 

the marking you leave

but the intent may be misconceived 

but I allow you to do as you please

you're always eager to please 

and i melt for you every time

[intrusivemuses]

Some days are just. Really, really hard. I got booted off my insurance in Feb and haven't been on my meds since, and god I need them.

I'm so tired of this endless cycle, and every time someone comes into my life and wants to be involved with me, something fucked up happens.

It's exhausting, and my only safe outlet is my art or writing, but I'm exhausted and drained past those capabilities.

I have almost constant intrusive thoughts and ideations, and I don't really know how much longer I can handle it.

I long to love and be loved, to live and let live. And yet, somehow, it never quite works out.

[intrusivemuses]

Before you slide in my DMs you should know that I

am

POOR

[intrusivemuses]

God: “Adam, I’ll let you name the birds”

Adam: “Tit”

God: “Uhh ok”

Adam: “Boobie”

God: “Stop naming them after breasts”

Adam: Looks at rooster

[intrusivemuses]

Shorter conservatives: me, me, me.

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“Sometimes you have to accept the fact that there are things that will never go back to how they used to be.”

— Unknown

[intrusivemuses]

11:38 - Arrived at crime scene.

11:38 - Examined body. Signs of a struggle.

11:38 - Found murder weapon in drain.

11:38 - Realised watch was broken.