#living houses

[misledmiseries]

me: I'm a homebody i like to stay at home!

the home: 

muddles my perception of time

Changes in both size and distance

lulls me into sense of safety and twist it into an oppressive paranoia inducing hellouse-scape

compels me to forget my own autonomous existence 

waters down the outside and/ or exaggerate it to mythical extent 

shrinks front door perron when i ascend, jarringly draws it out when i descend.

all its windows views are other walls of itself

the backyard fence looms in every horizon

bitter to abandonment of what belongs under its roof, including me when i go out to buy some good ol orange fanta

 doesn’t look for me under its roof, it always knows where I'm.

when it sleeps doors never open, i don’t know it’s sleeping schedule

whatever happens silently around the corners is real, my apprehension is valid and understandable, and indeed i should panic. 

[birdmitosis]

Look, I just can't stop thinking about this post and, directly related to it, these videos.

This shit makes me want so many very, very specific Slay the Princess AUs.

[objectum-sunshine]

thinking about that bit in house of leaves where karen freaks out because all the mysticism objects she put around the House are gone. thinking about the scenes in Skinamarink where the toys vanish while the kids are asleep. thinking about Kitty Horrorshow's Anatomy and the furniture breaking and clipping into the walls.

Everytime I've seen or read these things, I've laid awake at night, scared out of my mind that if I didn't keep all my plushies tucked against my chest that my house would eat them while I was asleep. And isn't that such a silly thought? why would a house that is loved and lived in need to eat your cuddly toys to be filled? why would it rob you of your comfort if it holds no ill will towards you? when I walk down the dark staircase to use the restroom at night, there are no hidden eyes or teeth waiting for me in the shadows. just a house that's wondering why i'm still up. it's here to keep me company until I head back to bed

[thebisexualmandalorian]

Haunted Houses as a Trauma Narrative

The first draft of an essay I'm really excited to keep working on!

In “Courtney Love Prays To Oregon,” Clementine von Radics says, “What is a home/ if not the first place you learn to run from?”

For many, home means fear.  Is that not what a haunted house is, in the end?  Trauma and terror, intertwined in the one place we’re supposed to feel safest?  What are ghosts, and hauntings, but old memories clawing their way back into the living to carve out pieces of them in the present?

A haunting starts with a death.  Sometimes a literal death, sometimes the death of innocence.  Sometimes the literal death is also the death of innocence.  Pain seeps like blood into the floorboards and the walls, and it can never be scrubbed clean.  A stain is a stain, on a soul or a wall, and it reappears like clockwork when the right conditions are met.  Bloody handprints on the banister frighten outsiders and newcomers, but those in the house, inside the trauma, are used to them.  

Ghosts come in many forms, the way memories always do - sometimes footsteps down a dark hallway, a shadow out of the corner of an eye; sometimes in a rush, screaming from the basement where the bodies of past lives are buried, not deep enough to keep them hidden forever.  The ghosts - like the trauma - always bubble up like dark water from a tap, full of blood and horror, until the haunting is dealt with and put to rest.  

Generational hauntings, like generational trauma, are passed down through families, with raised voices and terrified children, swept under the rug like broken glass to cut the next generation.  “We don’t talk about ghosts” and “we don’t talk about family business” sound the same, if you say them right.  Family secrets, about the past, about the darkness lurking in the corners and unspoken violence embedded in walls and old furniture and genetic codes, about hidden strengths that only show themselves in the darkest nights.

Then there are the secret wounds, the ones that fester, buried deep in old trunks and dusty attics, that turn into poltergeists lashing out at anyone who disturbs them, because they’ve been left alone for too long and went wild with grief and pain.  Those hauntings are the hardest to deal with, steeped as they are in the kind of trauma that isolates, that refuses to allow anyone near enough to help.

In the end, there’s only one way to free the ghosts and free the traumatized: radical change.  Throw open the windows, throw out the old bedsheets, the old furniture, everything that keeps the ghosts and grief attached to the living.  Facing the ghosts robs them of their power.  Thank them for their aid - because there are always helpful ghosts and helpful learned reactions - and then lay them to rest.  There are cemeteries full of trauma, still full of ghosts, but too weak and buried too deep to hurt the living anymore.  The story ends with the ghosts at peace, and the future bright and full of hope.

[sunlitmcgee]

houses that breathe houses that are awake houses that ooze and crone and moan and bemoan all that have lived within and the many that went and left houses with cracked glass eyes through with to peer at their innards judgingly houses that hate and want you expelled houses that love and cling and grasp and hold you here so that you may petrify mind body and soul you may rot you both may rot but at least you rot together at least you aren't alone

[liquidstar]

If my mom sees a significant amount of blood she gets lightheaded, and has fainted on some occasions. Once it happened when we were kids, I wasn't there to witness it but I heard the story from my dad. Basically my brothers, around 7 or 8 at the time, were playing outside while my mom was making their lunch, and she accidentally cut her finger. It wasn't anything serious, but it drew a fair bit of blood and she passed out. My dad saw this and rushed over, but he didn't really know what to do so he just sort of started slapping her to wake her up (not recommended, but he had no idea and panicked)

At that exact moment my brothers both came in from playing, and all they saw was our mom unconscious on the floor and our dad slapping her. So, like, without even saying a word to each other they both just INSTANTLY start whaling on him, like, full blown attack mode to defend our mom. Which obviously didn't help the situation, but she did wake up and everything was fine.

Now our dad says that he's actually really glad they attacked him over what they thought was going on, because it means he raised good boys. And I still think that's true, they're very good boys.

[aholefilledwithtwigs]

I once had a landlord offhandedly mention that his mother had set this house on fire before. He and his wife lived on the first floor, and i rented the third.

Apparently his mom didn’t like his wife. So she set their house on fire. The house i was living in.

He assured me that everything was fine now and that this was years ago, just kinda laughed, smiled, and said ‘You know how moms are’

Yes. I know how moms are. I know how fucked up moms are as well. I have known many fucked up moms and fellow children of fucked up moms.

Attempted murder through arson is not typical mom behavior, even for a fucked up abusive mom

Oh, and his mother lived next door 🙃

[lovelenivy]

mouse bites™

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"

just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible

[wisebeth]

One thing which genuinely bothers me is Annabeth's perception in the fandom. How she's seen as this cold, stoic, emotionless, reserved and intimidating girl. When in reality, she's a character full of love.

Annabeth, who immediately cried and felt attached to Cerberus after playing with him for a few minutes because she wouldn't get to play with him again.

Annabeth, whose deepest desire, which the Sirens lured her with, is saving Luke and having a good relationship with both her parents.

Annabeth, who believed in Luke's goodness, even after all the countless terrible things he did simply because she had faith in his humanity.

Annabeth, who cried in Percy's arms before entering the labyrinth and refused to reveal the last line of the prophecy because it said to lose a love worse than death and the idea of losing any of her friends is too painful, heartbreaking and worse than dying.

Annabeth, who kissed Percy before parting with him in St. Helens because if he's going to die, she at least wants him to die knowing she loved him.

Annabeth, who took a poisoned knife for Percy during the war because she'd rather die herself than let him die.

Annabeth, who convinced Luke to switch sides by reminding him of the promise of family he gave her. Which in turn, influenced Luke's decision to end himself to destroy Kronos. Hello, she saved the world with the power of love.

Annabeth, who spent months after months losing sleep and searching desperately for Percy when he went missing.

Annabeth, who kissed Percy to eternity in public at their reunion, not caring what anyone is going to say or think. An asteroid could've hit the earth, and she wouldn't have cared.

Annabeth, who told Percy “I love you” when falling in Tartarus because if she was going to die, she wanted them to be her last words.

Annabeth Chase is a sweetheart, who has always felt things deeply and she's so full of love. And I think it's time we let go of the “cold-hearted annabeth” headcanon because it's not true, that's not her.

[misledmiseries]

me vlogging in Piranesi's house: “ good morning children of the house it’s a gorgeous day here in the house perfect for fishing downstairs, don’t forget to click the like button and check the link for my fish recipe ❤️❤️  ″

me vlogging in house of leaves:” hi family I'm still falling and my sense of self is quickly fading .....  ʞɔᴉlɔ    ǝɥʇ                                          

                  ǝʞᴉl  

                                                       uoʇʇnq  👎👎                                                    

                                                                      ��                   puɐ

                       ʇɹoddns   ǝɯ  

                                                           uoǝɹʇɐd uo  

uoᴉʇdᴉɹɔsǝp ǝɥʇ uᴉ ʞuᴉl “

[malinaa]

if i think about the hunger games in peeta's perspective i WILL start sobbing

[soldrawss]

Watching and Dreaming doodles cause im 🥺🥰

[1-7776]

the "would u live w mutuals" poll has me curious abt this. so

[gentlemanmotorslifestyle]

[marzipanandminutiae]

"most allegedly haunted houses turn out to have gas leaks!"

no they don't. you are merely skimming the surface of mundane shit that can be wrong with old houses with your one puny little explanation that only fits a very small number of cases. try harder