a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

what should I do today?

Wrong person to ask this cuz I'm on a tight schedule from my parents

but maybe find a new hobby or try to learn something new? start a new book? (if you like to read)

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

my asks are open (I think)

send me questions, random stuff, or just weird ass shit

or just ramble

i honestly feel like the only thing most of y'all know about me is that I love the victorian flower language, I love pjo, I'm a writer, I read, I like music-, and I'm crazy

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

YESSSS I MADE IT I MADE THE BEADED LIZARD

TAKE THAT, DEPRESSION!!!!!!!!!!

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

i have no fucking idea how y'all put up with me 😔

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

"why do you write?" because it’s the only way to silence the characters pacing around my brain like victorian ghosts with unresolved issues that prevent them from moving on.

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

There's something i yearn and crave for,

but I don't know how to put it into words.

funny, a poet doesn't know how to make a feeling into words.

Maybe, this feeling is just impossible to write.

That frustrates me.

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

I'm tired.

I want to go home.

Truth be told, I don't have a home.

Neither my mother's nor my father's house is home.

I don't have a home.

No home where i'm fully accepted.

No home when im fully comfortable.

no where.

I just float.

Switch to his, back to hers.

Neither are home.

Just houses.

Just buildings.

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

I miss comfort.

I miss that feeling of safety.

I feel like everything can crumble at any moment.

Will I ever find that same comfort?

I feel empty.

I'm no longer living my own life.

I'm in an empty, dark room.

Living other lives, book by book.

I will never be safe.

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

IS THERE ANY HELL FOLLOWED WITH US FANS??????

I NEED TO MAKE NICK'S BEADED LIZARD

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

I'm tired of being the poet,

The artist,

The illustrator,

The inspirer.

I want to be the poem,

The art,

The sculpture,

The beloved.

I'm tired of being the poet.

When will it be my turn to be the poem?

The muse?

When will someone turn me into words?

Words as beautiful as the moon?

Words of sorrow as gorgeous as the dark sea?

I yearn to be seen as a poem.

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

IS THERE ANY HELL FOLLOWED WITH US FANS??????

I NEED TO MAKE NICK'S BEADED LIZARD

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

I have done bad things. I can't take them back, and they are part of who I am. Most of the time, they seem like the only thing I am.

Veronica Roth

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

went to my cousins birthday thingy at my grandma's today

his girlfriend and bsf came along

his girlfriend got me the song of achilles and the book thief

his bsf saw my necklace and went "oh! cotton candy colors, I love cotton candy!"

and then my cousin was like " (name), no.... its not.."

and then his bsf was like "huh? wdym...???...... oh OH OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

bsf: "why did it take me so long to realize that..."

and then my cousin's gf saw my bracelet (a kandi single with he/they on it) and started referring to me as they <3

mission accomplished

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

me looking at all my posts i made at night:

why am i so depressing???????????????????????????????????

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

Words are so beautiful.

Yet, so atrocious.

so pretty.

yet, so ugly.

depends on the manner.

[a-fucking-ray-of-sunshin3]

I've always been fascinated by the stars.

Such a pretty glow.

They eventually fade, though.

You never notice.

you never noticed.

Stars fade.

and you don't even know they're gone by the time you see them.

funny.