#or i dont know i dont remember the era where i too was yearning for control

[the-acid-pear]

I still think it's insanely hot of Jack to be evil. Like literally rip to the whole world but seeing a man be evil because he simply wanted to is literally so cool and sexy. I know I wanna throw myself under a table to hide every time I see him be evil but that's irrelevant. It's still the ever.

[moonshynecybin]

I find Marc covered up fully underneath his leathers, upto his neck & wrists, so fascinating when we have the others in half sleeves, mesh or nothing. I can't remember if he always was that way or changed midway, if there was a particular reason? If Alex does the same? It just gives regency era eldest spinster daughter hair tied up tight covered up to the neck waiting for the highest titled rake to come show her the pleasures waiting for her.

marc would be SOOOO good at the kate sharma of it all. like bridgerton season two is in many ways rosquez 2 me. marc WOULD deny himself love and marriage if he convinced himself it would protect alex and vale WOULLD close himself off from love for fear of losing anyone he loved ever again after the untimely death of his [dont worry about it] from a bee sting. perfect set up for vale to decide to court marc's much more agreeable and younger (NOT A SPINSTERRRR) brother who because he needs someone to secure the family's future with and alex is one of the most eligible and educated bachelors on the market. and he knows he will never fall in love with him. whereas marc is known for going on crazy person horse rides (how he first meets vale) and pissing people off. and ALEX is locked in this fun codependency thing with marc, where marc sacrificed so much to get him there from spain and its the only way they can like. still live in the same household because the marquez finances are a lil shaky for regency reasons (alex it should be noted will fall for vale's ward franky SO fast and they shall have their own tortured by familial obligation repressed regency drama please trust this. it WOULD involve alex saving franky from bandits. again trust.)

so anyways vale commits to courting the idea of alex. butttt marc and vale. kind of hit it off. chemistry! goofballs ! a game of crochet that legitimately turns a little dangerous (marc is. cheating the whole time lmao. vale is ALSO cheating he is kicking balls into the bushes and. possibly. checking out marc's ass when he bends over to fetch them. victimless crime looking never hurt anyone.) truly luca meets marc and is like lovely to meet the man my brother plans to marry :) and alex vale marc are all like. um. hah. about that. EVERYONE can see and marc and vale are down fucking horrendous but are cutting themselves off from love so aggressively its UPSETTING ! vale CANNOT lose anyone he loves and marc will sacrifice EVERYTHING for alex's future so they are locked in horny tension for monthsss. it is. insanely horny close proximity sniffing. it is. dancing at balls probably more than is strictly proper. it is. marc getting pushed into a body of water and having to strip off his paper thin old-timey shirttttt. getting wayyyy too into betting on horse races like they are throwing elbows. alone in various well dressed rooms breathing the same air SO much yearning and holding back because like. they CANT do that to alex (alex. does not want that man lmao).

until finallyyyyy its alex and vale's wedding day and marc feels like hes going to THROW UPPPPPP. worlds saddest little spinster. pale sad brave face on. but he walks in and vale is just. he cant take his fucking eyes off marc. at the alter in a church in his best suit. he cant stop looking at him. and he feels like hes going to cry but he doesnt know why. and alex walks in and looks at the two of them looking like they want to DIE and it clicks. right then. that theyre in love (huge relief off of his shoulders tbh. already sexting franky via horny letter in his mindpalace) like alex KNOWS his brother and he KNOWS the only way get marc to stop doing something self destructive is for alex to tell him he doesnt have to. so he turns away from vale and he takes marc's hands. and he calls of the wedding.

BUT that doesnt resolve our central conceit on vale's end. what do you do when the scariest thing in the world is the person you love dying. and that is a belief that has been informed by person you love dying trauma. well in vale's case you simply have to realize YOU ARE ALREADY IN LOVE... TOO LATE IDIOT. having them and MAYBE losing them is better than never having them and losing them ANYWAYYY. so in this its like. the wedding falls through, alex marries franky so hes fine, and marc gets in a HORSE RIDING ACCIDENT ! and its uh. not looking good. and marc almost DIES and vale wasnt even THERE and he didnt knowwww how vale feels. he never got to be with him :( truly life is fleeting go fuck your twink :( finds out marc is going to be okay and cries for hmm. maybe the first time in ten years? and then they get married :)

[atroubledoll]

im trying to figure out the next move. because i need a bit of distance if it is this reality. which it is. i want to be happy. eventually. this year has been so intense. i can't find a comforting song either. it feels weird to feel this alone. this is only one night though. maybe tommorrow i will have a more linear plan and an idea of the upcoming. hopefully something works out. i still have dreams, i can remove myself from this area and scene. be someone else. i once was. i can work on my issues out there. and not have to be here and dwell in what was, and cope with the loneliness the way i do now. i have no idea what that would look like. it is a scary concept. im afraid to let go of all that was, but im going to.

i am a mess of a girl. not a woman. but there are some truths ive held quietly, reaffirmed from people who loved me this year. and who have known me for awhile.

im not ugly. i know it. i do know that and nothing anyone could say, would make me feel otherwise. i actually am pretty proud of my ridiculous loud, colourful, drag queeny style. im creative. it manifests in my entire being. i don't have a huge chin. lmao i don't. i am doll faced you motherfuckers lmao.

im creative. im an artist. i make things. ive always drawn. i like to create when i can. everything ever needs to be personalized. it isn't childish. i dont know how to not make everything uniquely mine. that's what i do. im not good with people. conversations. but i am a great listener. im not loud I'm too quiet. but i am a decent friend. the friends i make, i tend to really get to know. on a pretty deep level. i cherish those friendships. i love the ones i have with my family. im not a writer. but i can't stop writing. i crave understanding. it is easier to lay it all out in long, overwrought, rambling, expressive ass letters. my writing is full of hope and flinchworthy affection. i really think like that. im not very grounded. i need a layer of probability. kawaii glittery goddamn possibilities. that kind of hope for something amazing to happen over a weekend, like you are predestined for some distant, foggy just enough. an almost its alright in the world. I filter life through this lense and i get its a coping mechanism. but it is really inspiring. I'm a Lisbon girl. I am Cecilia. I am "ti jean" looking at dean moriarity. I admire and its enough to incite an inner passion. overwhelming, nonsensical, unfiltered, ravenous seeking. unabashed over romanticization. a not giving a fuck that most don't get it. i am often crash and burn but i never sought any kind of conventional societal confinement. it has lead me to ridiculous and new experiences. a no set goal destination. the goal is a feeling. and a community. im okay with not really knowing. i just need to reignite the want to discover. ravenous for new experience, books, obscure music, all of the things that inspired me when I was a teenager looking outward for something more. i can feel it. i contain a scary unbalanced, uncouth yearning that spirals me forward. i have definitely been able to reel it in easier. but its existence is essential and makes living way harder than it should be. everyone can line up for the spectacle. grab popcorn while im here. that is acceptable. i don't live in that realm though. i can't contain all of the pitiful, indecipherable too much of my thoughts. i lived in a world for so long where no one is willing to speak on it. I like letting the people i admire know. people deserve to know the good in them. i don't need to look cool. im unabashedly unfuckingcool. I am aware of most of my fatal character flaws. I can admit them I just really need to find some way to work on them and isolate my toxicity.

I guess that really makes my love empty ultimately. feelings without action. something I need to learn how to do. because we shouldn't have had to live in our sad, insanely viotale whirlwind of a relationship. we were in love though. a ridiculous, high strung, passionate affair that burned out fast in a tristessa kind of way. a seemingly unworkable, i wish. the too potent, unhealthy way two people who are outliers and have insanity as an interest would. 70s era NYC punk rock. beat poetry on amphetamines. a mistake you can later romanticize over in a sad way. i put you on a pedestal indeed. because I didn't communicate, stood silent out of my fear. the only way you felt my love was out of actions, nothing substancial or you'd have stayed. just physical touch applied carefully, intently. moon fan girl eyes , an audience. it isn't enough for an actual adult relationship. letters of admiration were bizarre. but just know you really are a transformative lover. I didn't expect you. you are a rarity, and full of indescribable depths. I don't care if my fangirling is looked down on. I meant the things I've said to you. you're a poet with something important to say, you are altruistic and your other good traits are annoying. you're a remarkable person who I will always remember. I wish you didn't spark a ridiculous, unexperienced, steady passion in me. I have been aching for awhile now. this will definitely be a painful , long undoing for me to process alone. the emptiness is a constant. if I could recall more of the hurt to the forefront I'd be easier. but I was worse. and my memories are soft and full of your precise love. the things we experienced together noone would ever know of. a shared tenderness, and an actual soul recognition that was rare. I love youi know thats not enough. but you actually know me. I can be a demon to the outer world. but at our heart I hope you remember the letters. "achin' to be" cued up for this sad girl sitting cross legged on your floor, when we felt what it was like to be so indespensible to eachother. countless other memories that proved this was once a mutual, encompassing felt rare thing. one where we were both hurt because it really meant something. I'm a naive lil asshole but i loved you at a shrine i errected in my heart devoutly until it was obvious you never visited anymore. o couldn't be more remorseful that I hurt you. you deserve so much good. thank you for your radience and unreal care. that's it.

[15001700tt]

Reflections of the Deep Sense of Self

well, i dont really have an audience except for a handful of mutuals and the many porn bots that i cant seem to get rid of no matter how hard i try but i am still gonna use this platform to voice out my thoughts since i have too many of them and i feel like i might drown if i don't talk about them.

i dont necessarily think that i am a person that is easily swayed by men, i was able to emotionally control myself quite effectively in my youth.

my first crush was simply a pick from the crowd to stop my friends nagging about who it was. i just observed the crowd and picked the most likely to not interact with my sort and said "him, he is so cute!" hoping that my friends wouldn't see through my facade. i didn't want to like anyone just because of their looks but I had quite literally not spoken to the male sort in my entire life (not including men I am related to, I was in all girl private school before I moved to America's public system) to develop an interest in them in a romantic or infatuated way even.

now this is just my introduction to my philosophical essay about whether hurt/ mentally ill people are inherently evil but I must admit that this was started because of other reasons. we might not even get to touch on that either, i tend to ramble and not get to the point effectively.

if you followed me long enough you would know that I was talking to a man I might've called Viking. but we do not talk anymore after I made my feelings clear to him.

i feel many things, most of the time, its anger, the other times, confusion, hurt, rejection..etc. but I do not blame him. mostly because, i am quite annoying as a human being.

one of the things i took to as a way to distract me from the pain, was reading. i read so much that it was impossible to feel anything except the emotions that I was told to through a page. but in between books I would have nights where i wouldnt be able to focus on the words, and I would ponder what was it i did wrong, what was it that made him deem me worthless, not worth responding to. and I would come up blank because my self-preservation wont allow me believe that because I made my intentions clear that I was in the wrong to do so when I feIt that our relationship was taking the wrong turn. if I am allowed to call it a relationship, because quite frankly it was a level below a situationship and a level above a friendship. that I was quite sure of.

as I sit here and write after almost two months of silence from his end and mine, because I refuse to be the one to break it. call it pride, call it stubbornness, I was not the one to ghost the other. i refuse to chase after someone who clearly does not want me. but still can't deny that I lay in bed every night at some godforsaken hours of the night wishing, and hoping that he would just take a step towards me. as I had done to him that one Wednesday afternoon in April.

my point is that my interest in men started out of necessity but it has evolved into a yearning of something that seems quite unattainable. i am not attractive by any means, but I am not of the ugliest sort. i have seen people with more weight with worse features than I with partners who could care less about appearances. which to say that my looks shouldn't be any good reason to ghost me. and while I don't necessarily think that my appearance was the reason for the silence I do struggle with the way l look so my insecurities have found a very good home in the found silence from him. i am working on losing weight out of a bet with friends but also out of bitterness but nevertheless, he is a man and if he wont block me than he must see what he is missing out on.

but again, I used to think I would never be that girl. the one who wanted something but she cant have it. which is quite the diabolical because the entirety of the 11 months we talked I had many panic/ anxiety attacks over how our appearances didn't match, our aesthetics weren't compatible, about how I was too ugly for him or too fat for him. but he seemed the sort that was straightforward and didnt waste other peoples times. i guess i was wrong in the sense that he kept me around because he was bored and disposed of me when it got too serious for his liking. i thought i always had the upperhand, that if things ended i wouldnt be too hurt about it and do what i do best, find the next boy to obsess over.

funny enough, he seemed interested. but i cant know for sure. i mightve made it up in my head.

i have a fear, which shouldnt be a fear but it is. remember how i said that my first crush was out of necessity? well that seems to be the case with me from 7th grade to the end of highschool. which is crazy because you would think with all the men i obsess over that i would find men attractive. i think there is a clear line between celebrities and fiction characters from a real person with undeliberate faults and thing you cant control.

i never thought any of my crushes were ugly, they were good looking but they didnt make me feel attracted to them. it didnt help that i was also the type to watch from a far and not the get close and comfortable.

considering this my first person that i liked and held an 11 months conversation/-ship with i think i did very good but that doesnt change that i read too many romantic book and i had a silver of hope.

a silver of hope that maybe i wasnt weird or shitty for not feeling attracted to anyone in my life. that i finally found someone who literally embodied my dream guy and couldnt have been more perfect. if only he was better at communicating.

he says that he is traumatized from long distance relationships, i now understand that it mightve been his fault. he doesnt communicate. in the 11 months we have known each other i know about a handful of things about him while he had me all figured out. except for one thing. he never got my fear of relationships. since i suspect he ghosted me because he thought i would want one. i guess ghosting me seemed like his best option.

i might not be undesireable but i am not anyone's first choice either. usingmedia to distract me from my emotions literally has become my life. i read about 15 hockey romances the weeks after the ghosting. i was already reading regency era adult romances but i couldnt bring myself to finish them because i had spoken to him about them. this decision i will regret because i talked about everything with him. i mentioned this before. quite literally everything reminds me of him. and its quite sad because i cant evn ssay what we had was special. i decided yesterday that he wasnt worth all of this, and i know he isnt. but i am tired. i just want to be dessired and wanted.

i literally stopped reading a book because the male interest did the same thing that he did to me, essentially to the female protag. i cant even pick up the raunchy adult romance.

i didnt let my self feel the extent of my emotions, only in small slivers of despair, or when i am too tired to pretend that his actions didnt affect me.

he was perfect in all ways but one and i was all faults except for one; my immenient need to communicate.

and no one knows, a friend of mine knows, but they dont know everything, i dont want her to get annoyed with me. i was in her place too many times and i refuse to put her through that. and our mutual friends?

hahahahaha the other night i was speaking with S, and he said that the last time he spoke to him, he mentioned me and Viking said 'oh i havent spoken to her in a while' thats it. no explaination no excuse. i dont even know why that infuriated me. i wasnt even worth an explaination in his eyes. S barely found out via vague summary from me. because even though i was/am hurt. i refuse to tarnish his reputation. 'in a while' ????? you mean two months? but then again S couldnt remember the last time he talked to him. but like still?

forget that we were flirting constantly i thought i was friend at least. i deserve more than this. i think. maybe not then.

i want to scream and shout and hit him and cry about why he didnt want me. but i realize thats self depricating. i should never seek validation from a man, i know but it wouldnt fucking hurt fam.

i have so much to say and yet i feel like its already too much. i should keep quiet. thats what people want from me. for someone who is 'boy crazy' i have not stomached going on a dating app, or boy watching in public because it physically hurts. for gods sake i cant even read fanfiction or just READ because of it. any sight of anything merely romantic makes me want to yell. i am tired and i want to turn everything off. including my stupid rat brain that only seems to be attracted to assholes.

but the same fucking stupid brain cant help but hope that is our enemies to lovers story. one day... god i hope one day...