in the Beginning, there is a thing made of clay. rough palms and gravel voice, starlit cheeks. it blinks. it breathes.
it Asks.
the words crumble at the edges and from within the clay-dark mouth, they emerge stained. cupped in just-formed hands, they lose most of their shape.
the thing makes of them an offering, anyway.
for a moment, the clay parts and gives way to a jewel-studded gaping. a tap. the thing cracks open. inside, it is hollow.
inside a yawning mouth lays; a prayer, worn thin with wanting. a plea, shaved to the bone. a question.
bleeding still.
it's made a mess of the forests, see. red-wet and brown-dry and ever sticky, it covers the bark in smears. it has not rained in days, and the trees are starving. the clay stays, dripping, even after the thing has left, see.
in the dark, it lays still, gravel-hands draped over sharp-edged, brilliant ribs.
- how fares my heart? how break my bones? where lives my laughter?
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the right hairstyle for your face is the one that makes you smile when you see yourself in the mirror btw.
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a raven father (i call him "pants") I've been feeding sometimes likes to sit outside my window and either wait for more food or just listen to the stuff I'm watching while I draw. Today's a colder day so he likes to fluff up a bit, and I kid you not :
this is an accurate representation of my view
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So usually when an imaginary friend is a real thing in a story, it’s either a demon or a ghost or some supernatural boogeyman that probably wants to eat the kid they’ve befriended (Mama, a couple of the Paranormal Activity movies), or “imaginary friends” are just treated as a real thing in the setting, and if a child just thinks hard enough they can manifest a friend into existence (Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends, Happy).
And somewhere in the middle is an area where the imaginary friend in question is real and they are supernatural, but they aren’t malevolent, and they aren’t entirely honest about what they are. Like maybe they’re a fairy or a god or some kind of boggle from mythology, but they just got caught by a six year old and they don’t have time to get into it, so they just go “…Yes. I’m your imaginary friend. We haven’t met. How do you do.” And then they stick around because they do love this kid, and if you’re a boggle from mythology in the modern day good food is really hard to come by.
And at some level. That’s what I think Hobbes is.
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