#but this one is mine

[brasideios]

My writing ‘assistant’. Kitty-Cat, out here helpfully adding the number 3 an inappropriate amount of times to my draft… and otherwise distracting me 😆

[palmtreepalmtree]

Olive trees and the setting sun. Valle de Guadalupe, Mexico.

[iamthecomet]

shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. then copy/paste this ask to your favorite mutuals 💜💜 (only if you want!)

♡♡♡♡

Opaline - Katatonia

Jesus He Knows Me - Ghost

The Numbers - Rise Against

Kicking - OSI

We're All To Blame - Sum 41

[emperorsfoot]

No object, no matter how well taken care of, can last forever.

And I can already see my favorite mug is reaching the end of her lifespan

[crybabyzine-subtext]

What I Could Have Been

I find myself longing for another life. I have been imagining what would have happened if I had had parents who understood me, a secular childhood, a childhood in which I was encouraged to pursue art instead of being told it was impractical. A life where I stopped caring earlier about what my family thought of me. A life where I never went to BYU-Idaho to please my parents. A life where I could have found others like me instead of consistently being told I was wrong, when I was just alone.

I suppose this is grief. My birthday is coming up. Anniversaries are always meaningful, whether you realize it or not. My body remembers. My body feels the years of loneliness.

I wish I didn't feel alone so often. It's embarrassing, but the people i feel I understand best have been my clients--sensitive souls who have similar energy to my own. Maybe you have to be mentally ill to treat the mentally ill. I definitely think it helps. I watch my dog at the dog park, always searching for other dogs like him. I feel like I do the same, but so rarely find someone who I can be authentic with. Truth is hard, and most people run from it.

My girlfriend loves me too much. It's uncomfortable for me. I can feel myself wanting to pull away, to run, to flee. I can't tell if I'm supposed to learn to accept it or to hold my boundaries. I'm so used to relying on myself. but I've gotten lax. I've let her take care of me and support me, and in turn, I've neglected myself and my responsibilities. I am the only one who can know what I need. But she is noisy and I can't get space to listen to myself in a 19-foot van. No matter what happens, I end up caretaking in some way, shape, or form. But I'm burnt out on a lifetime of caring for others. I cannot fake my emotions any more. I have little patience for people who expect me to. Moreover, I do not want to fake my emotions for anyone else's benefit any longer. I'm clocking out. This labor is not in my job description anymore.

I want to believe in the fairy tale of true love, but I have long since stopped believing in fantasies. Instead, I learn how fantasies are made--the ins and outs of storytelling, the technical work required to create believable illusions. I believe in reality. Maybe a little too much, and more than most. I enjoy smashing people's bubbles, waking people up to a world outside of their delusions. People resist that, though. I get it. I used to live in a bubble. I was a good little Mormon girl who believed a bunch of fairy tales that came with strict rules governing my behavior. I didn't break the rules, because I didn't want to. I believed. I set a good example for my younger siblings. I was too scared to be bad.

Until I couldn't anymore. I've learned firsthand that you can't suppress your truth forever. I had checked out of church, learned to disassociate from a young age, found ways of keeping myself entertained. I brought a journal to church with me--acceptable cover for taking notes on talks, but I was secretly journaling my own thoughts, doodling characters in the margins, creating my own little safe space to live on the page. My brain made a place for me, while my body went through the motions of my obligations. Sometimes my body made its own choices, like taking 30-minute bathroom breaks while I was supposed to be in my religious classes with the other devout young adults. Some days I would oversleep accidentally-on-purpose and then lie to my parents about what lessons I learned in church that week. They wouldn't have wanted to hear that I wasn't going, so I didn't tell them. The key to a good lie is to believe in it, and i believed the lie deeply. I was an imaginative, creative child who could easily imagine a world in which I went to, and enjoyed church. But I couldn't make it real.

I was almost always alone. What would it had been like if someone else had been brave enough to skip Sunday school with me all those years ago? Maybe I'd be better at connecting with others instead of writing my secret thoughts on the internet in the middle of the night. But this is the safest way I've ever found to be honest.

Maybe I could have been different if they would have just let me be myself. If they could have handled the reality of who I am, instead of trying to mold me into a perfect daughter of God. I could never be that girl. I would die before I became that woman.

I'm too messy, too loud, too small to have such heavy expectations placed on me. I fell short again and again and learned that being perfect was impossible.

[s-aint-elmo]

pass it on!

(ID in alt text)

[armadillorollup]

in honour of wolvie returning to the big screen here's a fond childhood memory

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

there's no greater betrayal than finally starting to read a book you've had sitting for months on your shelf or your desk or your nightstand and then finding out it's bad. like. i gave you a fucking home.

[cutiemisu]

ryoko kui: bet

[loathsome-sickness]

"people show their true colours in life threatening situations" no, they show you what they act like when they're mortally terrified, an emotion notorious for literally turning your entire brain off to the point where people who go into those situations as a profession need to be literally trained on how to not have that happen

[batfleckgifs]

BEN AFFLECK Jan 04 2024

[brasideios]

Emptiness

[twig-gy]

people NEED to stop gatekeeping making music like ohhhh i don’t have an instrument ohhhhh i don’t know music theory ohhhhh i’m not gonna pay for some program. SHUT UP. take my hand.

you need NONE of that shit!!!!! there’s a website called beepbox.co. literally all you have to do is press things until it sounds a modicum of nice. it’s easy it’s free and it works on anything which has a browser because it’s a website.

if even ONE person starts making music bc of this post it will be worth it.

making bad music is just as important and okay as it is to write badly or draw badly or sing badly. you AREN’T BEHOLDEN TO MAKE GOOD MUSIC. making music is not utilitarian HAVE FUN. HAVE FUN!!!!!!!!!

[hauntingyourself]

Are people with large beds not afraid of a ghost crawling in with them? I would be

[thepoeticall]

[spitblaze]

I don't see people gas up gnc and butch transfems nearly enough, can we get a fuckin round of applause for gnc and butch transfems