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Sore: Istri Dari Masa Depan (2025) dir. Yandy Laurens

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maybe i just love window shopping as much <33

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‎⠀

‎⠀ ꀤꀤ.⎯⎯ ( sadie ♥︎. )

‎⠀ I do hope I remain your

‎⠀ most cherished: redhead ͏⭑ ࣪ ˖

‎⠀

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♫ 💬𓈒⋆༘ ─── 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁✷𝗼 𝘄ᨹᩚ𝗹𝗅 𖤓🐌 10:12

⌁ ぶ 🛗🍶 ៸★🝰 ✷ ᩚ𝗹𝗱 Ⓜ️𝖮𑈤e҇ᧄ ⟣ ⃕ 🌀🚪 ゆᨓ 𝙽ᦕᩚ ᰱ 𑄟 Ꮺʾ̷ ᰍ✿᥍𝗍 🧑🏼‍🤝‍🧑🏼🚙 ❈ 𝗹𝕚𝗸ᦕᩥ ↑ ᥰᩚǝ𝗯𝗹✫𝗚 🥟 ☻ 伊 ᖘǝⳡꪦ❦𝕄ᦸᩚ𝘁α𝕝

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when there is a chance, there she is.

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it's her eyes that got me happy ♡

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[LEE] As we were casting this thing, I was just looking at actors who I want to spend time with, actors who I personally love. TWISTERS (2024)

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☘︎ and for once, it’s time to let go.

I have come to accept that it is time to surrender it all—the wounds that never closed, the weight of disappointment, the pain that lingers in silence, the emotions that were never voiced, and the heart reduced to nothing but ashes. It’s time to lay them to rest. I would not be who I am now if I had not been forced to swallow the filth they fed me.

I once knew love—the kind that was real, pure, and deep. And I was loved in a way that felt almost sacred. Yet I was a fool—I let it slip away. Then I gave my heart to someone who never deserved it, a pathetic excuse for a person, and I let them go too. Then, I walked straight into another lie, thinking it was love. Nonetheless, it was just another cruel joke. I was cheated on. I let it slide at first, pretending it didn’t shatter me, until I gathered the proof—until the rage swallowed me whole. I cursed the very thing that made me feel so sick, so unbearably empty.

Then, I loved again. And again, I was betrayed. This time, the outrage turned inward. I loathed myself for believing, for hoping, for thinking I mattered. My feelings were never considered—never once. And yet, despite the wreckage they left me in, I forgave them. However, I never trusted them again. In truth, I quit trusting anyone. The wounds festered into something worse—something bigger than me. My trust issues became walls I couldn’t break down.

Trust became a wound too deep to heal, a shadow darker than anything else. Love—real love—never existed. It was a lie people told to feel less alone. No one ever truly cared for me. No one ever stayed.

So, I let go. I have to.

It’s devastating how pain can hollow a person out until they’re nothing but a shell, a living corpse forced to move through life as if they still belong here. How disappointment isn’t just a fleeting ache but a slow, relentless decay, sinking into the bones, poisoning everything it touches. And yet, no one talks about it. No one screams the way they should. Because we’ve all been taught to swallow it down, to choke on our suffering and whisper, it’ll be okay—when deep down, we know it never will be.

Nevertheless, I won’t do it anymore. I won’t pretend. No, it was never okay. And I hate you all—hate you for making me believe, even for a fleeting second, that I was still alive. That I was still something worth saving. But I’m not. I am nothing. I am already dead, trapped inside this wretched body that refuses to set me free.

No, I don’t know if I’ll be okay—not now, not tomorrow, not in the slow-dragging months that follow. If I am honest, I know I won’t be. Yet I refuse to wither here, nameless in my own skin, drowning in a place that was never meant to hold me. I deserve more than this aching, this endless weight of people who never saw me, never truly knew me. No, not people. I do not believe in them anymore.

But I believe in places—silent, open, untouched by betrayal. I believe in the rain, how it falls without question, how it washes the world clean without expecting anything in return. I believe in the cold wind that does not lie, in the vastness of the earth that still whispers my name. I need to step into it, to open a door to something—anything—that is not this suffocating sorrow.

Yes, I have envied. Yes, I am flawed. Nonetheless, I know my worth, even if the world has tried to strip it from me. And so I will rise—not in fire, but in the quiet, steady way that rain carves rivers into stone. I will leave this pain behind me, let it soak into the ground where it belongs. I will not be weak. I will not keep breaking myself just to be kind to those who only know how to take.

No. I am not small. I am not something to be stepped over, washed away. I am more than you ever believed me to be. And soon, beneath this weeping sky, I will prove it.

With love,

Daisy ♡

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my man and his urge to massacre the drought.

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fromm

DPR IAN fromm text message January 25, 2025

Hello everyone it's been a while ~ I hope you are all well ! I've been doing well and have been trying my best to navigate through the next chapter of my life! I miss you all dearly

진짜 내가 여러분한테 빨리 보로 가고싶네요 ~ yes i am alive and well. I see a few birthday people as well ! Thankyou for being here ! You are loved and whatever you want your reality to be ~ you have all the power to make it come true!

Translation: I really want to see you guys as soon as possible ~

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"Maybe if I work real hard, I could be a Tornado Wrangler too."

-Twisters (2024)

Bonus:

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not going to marry anyone unless the groom is christian yu himself.

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I will defend them with my life, frfrfr.

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I'm sorry for what happened, but how much more are you gonna let this thing take from you? TWISTERS (2024), dir. Lee Isaac Chung