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this slope is treacherous

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dream journal #14

i’m in a bed in a cottage. it’s not my home, and not my region. but it feels familiar. and warm, in the way that everything feels warm and fuzzy when you’re just starting to wake up.

i’m looking at his face again. it’s starting to become my favorite part of these dreams. it’s unfamiliar to me, but she knows every inch of it — her in the dream, i mean, whoever i’m looking through the eyes of.

he’s still sleeping. his chest rises and falls peacefully. i can see scars on it. they look freshly closed, much newer than mine, much newer than hers. i feel anxiety start to pull through the haze, up through my stomach.

he opens his eyes, half-lidded, to meet mine. the anxiety dissipates. he smiles.

there’s a long pause. i think he’s waiting for me to start falling asleep again. it doesn’t take long. the fan is still on high since last night — the noise tends to lull me away.

sunlight filters through the window. i’m starting to drift off again. i can see her drifting off, too, under my point of vision now.

he sits up to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. then he pulls her close to his chest, and they go back to sleep.

i wake up and the fan’s off. mightyena must have tripped and unplugged it. but i can���t get up to fix it. instead, i lay there in silence, in a half-empty bed. moonlight filters through the window.

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you were more than just a short time…

taylor swift - bigger than the whole sky (2022)

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dream journal #13

i’m in a cave. it’s not the cave of origin — it’s open at the top, and i can see blue skies and grassy hills above me, glittering in places that shouldn’t be glittering.

there’s a monster above me — it’s a salamence, but it’s not, at the same time — and it’s lurching forward to attack someone else. i stand in front of them, and i roar and puff out my chest and stomp my feet and slam rocks together, and swampert shakes the cave floor. my head tells me this is what we do when an ursaring attacks a campsite, because they’re prepared for flight prey, so they will run off from anything with enough audacity to fight back.

the monster fixes its eye on me. i think it senses my fear. but it’s inconvenienced enough, and it leaves.

the other person is crumpled to the floor. one of his ankles is twisted. he’s bleeding, and upsettingly pale, but he’s conscious. he looks up at the opening above us, then at me. and then he says something to me, but i don’t remember what it is — i’m too busy taking in his face.

he tries to stand up. his twisted ankle won’t cooperate. he’s dizzy. he is worried he will never leave this cave. he is worried we will die here. he never worries about things like this anymore. i wonder if there’s something in the air, suffocating our rationality.

i sense his fear. he senses mine. but i will not let him die here. that is my job.

i steady his back with one hand, and extend the other.

“do you trust me?” i ask him.

he grips my hand with force. i know he is going to make it.

“with my life,” he says.

i carry him out of the cave. we do not die there.

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㋡🥀

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right where you left me by taylor swift x the wedding dress by frederick elwell

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i found something last night.

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i found something last night.

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Does free will exist?

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i miss roxanne.

i won’t say it. she’s having a rough time as is. and i won’t go back. i can’t. i can’t put her through this any longer.

but here we are.

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mudkips are like baby cats to me (very cute)

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dream journal #12

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i have issues!!!!!

i wish i could talk to a therapist. i’d even take a fed agent if they ever called me back. they can arrest me as hard as they want if they can fix my head. LOL

i want to go home.

i don’t think i’m good enough to do it.

but, wishmaker, i want it more than anything.

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Delinquents

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hoenn kids sleepover ig....just bc i felt like drawing pjs

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Temporary passenger.

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dream journal #11

i'm may maple. i'm not on the phone this time -- i think it's a memory, or at least parts of one.

it's a late afternoon, and the sun is setting, and i'm in a hospital room. normally i'd be scared of hospitals, but the room isn't mine, so i'm a little scared for different reasons. my best friend is popping the cap off of a needle, and i'm putting on a brave face.

"relax," he says, as i watch him roll up one of his pajama shirt sleeves with his other hand, "it's not for you."

"i know it's not," i hear myself answer, "but it still makes me a little queasy. i don't know if i can do this."

"i'm not asking you to do it every time. i just want to show you so you know how, in case..." i don't need him to finish his sentence. may maple has always jumped at the chance to help someone who might need her. i nod.

he walks me through the process of the injection step-by-step. he's rattling on about the science of biologics and what they do to his immune system as i'm swabbing his upper arm with an alcohol wipe. i don't understand any of that medical jargon the way he does, but i know this is going to help him, so i don't need the rest.

i have to pretend i don't get distracted when he guides my hand to hold the needle at the right angle. his hand is cold. he gets poor blood circulation. but it's okay -- my feet are (*foot is. i'm still not used to that) always cold, too.

"i won't flinch. it shouldn't hurt more than a pinch. you can go ahead," he reassures me. i'm the one jabbing him with sharp objects and he's still smiling so i feel safe. this is how it always goes, he and i. i jab him with the sharp object.

i'm staring at the syringe, watching my own fingers as i push in until the spring mechanism pushes back and the needle ejects itself back out. then i take another alcohol pad so i can clean the injection site. when i look back at his arm, it's an infusion port, not a needle prick. i follow the curve of his shoulder and look up, and cheren is looking back at me instead.

then i woke up.

cheren was on the other side of the room. it was early in the morning. he never went to bed.

i got off the couch, and i helped him clean his infusion port.