#qt.musing

[theonlyqualitytrash]

I've become completely desensitized to deaths in the manga. Unless I see bones buried or cremated on panel with full paperwork, I will continue to live in ignorant bliss.

[theonlyqualitytrash]

I haven’t opened my scrapbook in almost six months, lacking any inspiration. And who better to dedicate a section to than my muse? Thank you, Fyodor, for haunting my thoughts.

Transcribed poem (in case you can’t read my handwriting):

I long to break your wrists,  to drink the pulse from your veins  like the sweetest truth I've ever known.  To trace the line where blood meets skin,  and call it home.  Let me die by the heat of your touch,  splintered, undone,  as you pull my heart out  and kiss it bare,  a fragile thing made perfect  in the hollow of your gaze.  I would give you all of me  every shattered piece,  every whisper of devotion,  until I am nothing but  the broken echo of your name  on a tongue of blood.  Split me in two if you must,  my love,  for I would not fight,  only surrender  to the weight of you  until there is nothing left  but us. 

This poem represents how I want to be loved, but also how deep my love runs. I’ll admit it: I hate being vulnerable, and sometimes I hate showing people what’s going on in my little brain. But I also long to show these things, these parts of me, to be understood. Please love me and ignore me at the same time.

Here, in my little corner of the internet, I can just put it out there. If it resonates, it does. If not, it still exists outside my mind—and that is enough.

Dividers: saradika-graphics

[theonlyqualitytrash]

I have succumbed to the plague (a common cold) and now lie in my deathbed, awaiting either recovery or sainthood. The revered plague doctor (my mother) administers her sacred remedies (aerosol and pills), with the wisdom of the ancients, while her alchemist’s apprentice (my father) has bestowed upon me a most potent elixir (nut brandy), which may either cure me or send me on a vision quest.

[theonlyqualitytrash]

Hello peeps, I have returned from the gulag! Ready to spend my break writing the final chapter of Creatura Innocentiae. I have so many plans, it’s honestly terrifying. Pray for me.

Also, fun fact about the gulag: the name is actually an acronym from Гла́вное Управле́ние исправи́тельно-трудовы́х ЛАГере́й (Main Directorate of Correctional Labour Camps).

[theonlyqualitytrash]

Oh, I had to sit a while to calm down before writing back to you, my dear Berry. The joy I have felt when I received your message was immeasurable. I could explain how my heart twisted and how my cheeks were hurting from smiling. I was squealing and reading every word to Sonya out loud. (Baby is still in my lap as I write this to you.) 

I don’t even know where to start... Perhaps with welcoming you back. So, welcome back, dearest! ❤︎ In these past months I have thought about you (I think that was obvious enough), but I did not want to overwhelm you with too many messages. :”)) 

Reading all of this made my heart ache and want to reach for yours. I can relate so heavily to this feeling of wanting to isolate because of depression (yay, another thing we have in common—should I be happy or sad?); sometimes we need to recharge, but most of the time we can’t because we feel this overwhelming pressure from others to be “on” all the time. And it’s hard, especially for people with deep, sensitive hearts. Like “Yes, I love you... No, I don’t want to talk... I am overwhelmed... Please let me rest... Don’t hate me.” And because people don’t give grace and softness and understanding (they always try to “fix” or tell us what to do to be better), we get left in this weird space where we feel like we should perform to keep the peace, for most don’t understand that we don’t need fixing—we just need a soft place to land. 

Markiplier (I love you, Mark) said it spectacularly: “Turns out people don’t like it when you turn your phone off for a couple of weeks and tell them to fuck off and don’t bother me with bullshit I don’t care about.” 

Life is overwhelming—you can say that again. We all have shit (please excuse my French) that we have to deal with. It’s exhausting when we don’t have anybody to meet us halfway. I have also turned inward lately, focused on writing, my emotions, on stories for myself, for the people here. I have distanced myself from a lot of people, especially at uni, because while I feel included, I don’t feel understood. There is that icky feeling where my vulnerability is demanded, but speaking my mind leads to me not being understood, or being brushed off, or my thoughts just don’t land in the way I needed. They don’t give me the grace I talked about earlier. (I am not even upset with them, I just want space.)

I think all emotional problems—and I might have said this before—can be solved with patience, empathy, and a little work from all parties. But not everyone can give that, and that is okay. 

We are all human, and flawed, and trying in our own ways. 

This is why I don’t see your isolation as a bad thing; you rested, and that is huge. You took care of yourself, you survived, and that is important. Did I feel your absence? Yes. Did it sting? Yes. Am I mad at you? No. Will I blame you for needing time? I would rather die first than blame someone for taking care of themselves. 

But right now? I am simply delighted to know that you are alive, to know that you are still drinking your herbal tea, still thinking, still dreaming, and still loving. It’s like all the longing in the past months has vanished into thin air. 

I hold a firm belief that you also helped me grow. I was always uncertain about the things I bring into existence, be it art, thoughts, stories, and so on. But when the doubt crept in, I thought about your genuine praise, your thoughts, and your kindness, so it kept me going. Truly. I cannot thank you enough for simply existing and for being here. You have been a better friend (in this short time we have known each other—even in your absence, even when you thought you didn’t affect me—you were still there in a way, in a corner of my heart) than a lot of people that I know, that I have considered friends. 

I have gone through a lot of eras in my life, and with every era, friends came and went. I never had a proper “best friend” because when an era ended, a season changed, people slowly drifted away for different reasons. It was hard to find “my people”; it was even harder to find people who genuinely sat down and tried to sympathize with me. Meeting you, I think, is one of the best things that has happened to me emotionally. ❤︎

And I don’t say that to dramatize anything—I wholeheartedly feel joy and connection when talking to you. Even if it is not all happy, even if it is not all “nice and rainbows.” Because friendship is a form of love, and love is vulnerability. 

I don't want this to change. (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

So thank you. Yes. Thank you for being truthful with me. Thank you for telling me that you felt scared of not “matching” me in any way. I am laughing when writing this part because I felt the same exact thing! I felt like my messages and letters to you were too short, not saying enough, or that I am too bland. And when you were talking about art and horror films and music and emotions and such, I was like: “Okay, game face is ON. I need to match this girl. I need to show her that I am invested in our connection as much as she is.” 

So 'tis a little silly, innit? (Excuse my British.) 

Oh, and I just had an epiphany moment: people with souls that think deeply have this problem with not feeling “worthy” when talking to another person who has a deep soul and is passionate! It's like we feel this awe at another person's brain and then our own goes like: "I guess I am inferior to them in every way...." Is that how most people think or is it just a symptom of being an overthinker? Gosh... We all just want connection and care and love, and acceptance. (Weird that I say this now—isn’t this what I have been writing about for the past half a year? Haha. (•ᴗ•,, )) 

Anyway, to clear things up: Yes, Berry dear, you are a good friend. Yes, you match me in any way you can think of, even when you are tired, even when you think you don’t do enough. Even in anxiety and depression, you are my friend—especially then. I can tell you have a rich inner world, and I can tell you have so many emotions that you sit over and think about. You don’t even realize the high regard I hold you in. 

Again, I am so happy you are here, and I am so happy you shared this with me, because it gave us an opportunity to bond and understand each other better. ❤︎

Also, you might have heard it before, but progress in anything isn’t linear. So if you won’t give yourself grace, I will. You are still Berry in your anxious days, gloomy days, happy days, tired days. Each version is still you, just approaching life in a different way, and that is okay. 

Also, my icon? She is capturing my longing for Fyodor in the new chapters (we are not going to talk about how we have been given so much Fyodor content and now I am running out of panels to use for my fics—I am having a withdrawal crash out). I love her. She is sad, and sorrow is literally the fuel I work on. But also because she looks like me a little? I don’t want to praise myself (but there is a small resemblance). Being compared to a painting (or art in general) is one of the highest forms of compliments to me... And I will cry real tears if someone complimented me this way.

Anyway, who says you cannot keep both your fairies and strawberries? If I am the fairy of flour and feelings (I will wear this title like a badge of honor), then you are the fairy protector of strawberries and peace, making sure that they are always sweet and tasty, and that when you eat one, you can only smile and feel at peace. 

I will combust if you send me a picture of the cookies you make. Think of it as your way of sending me one! ^^ I will cherish it and protect it with my life. I am so happy I summoned you back. I suppose I was like those people who chanted “(Character) will live.” when we got baited for the 18th time that someone died. Except I was less chanting, more manifesting you back with love. :> 

I cannot wait for your ramblings. I swear I will print them out and put them in envelopes, imagine that we are sending letters to each other. I will have a little box entitled “Berry <3” and just have them stack up. ❤︎

Your thought about Momo struck something deep inside me. Animals are so smart, and we don’t give them enough credit! A lot of people say cats are evil, then why does their purring have a frequency that can help reduce stress and anxiety? Why do they sit on us to show love? They bring tiny gifts, and they think and feel. Maybe not exactly like us (I like to think that anything with a soul feels the same way. The same intensity, but it is manifested in different ways. We can take, for example, Fahrenheit and Celsius. Two ways to show temperature, and usually you have to convert from one to another. The same is with people (or animals—people are animals). They all feel the same on different scales—we are the same, the same cloth, the same stardust.) But I feel like if we could properly communicate with them, we would get such a rich and interesting new worldview. 

I look at Sonya. People who see her think she is a little dumb, because she moves and acts slow and she looks like she does not have anything behind those eyes. But I like to think that she is slow because she thinks too much, and her body is having a hard time catching up to her smart little brain. I think Momo and Sonya would have a lot to philosophize about. ^^ 

I meowed at them for you, and they meowed back. <3 I hope your little princess is feeling the love in my heart I have for her. ₍^. .^₎⟆

The song was so lovely—it took my heart and wrapped it into a soft blanket of calm and love. I was giggling and smiling while listening to it and reading the lyrics. Her voice reminds me of Laufey’s... so it’s going straight to my playlist so I can revisit it to think about you! ^^ 

I don’t have a song for you (yet), but I wrote this silly poem: 

Roses are red,  I don’t work at NASA,  We are tied with a thread,  You can call me Masha. 

Masha is a nickname that I have been trying to get the people around me to use for some time; (it’s still a work in progress, haha) I would be really happy if you used it. 

With all my love, my warmth and softness,  your dear friend and kindred spirit, 

– M ❤︎

Dividers: saradika-graphics

Hello Berry, my dear fairy, are we going to talk about how well that rymes?

I have to say—I’m absolutely in love with your new aesthetic and your profile picture. ₊˚⊹♡ It suits you so well, like a little spark of magic. ^^

I’ll keep bothering you with my asks, because frankly… I miss you. Yes, I said it—and it feels so good to put it into words. Why do we stigmatize missing people? Why is saying “I long for our conversations” seen as weakness? It’s not and I am happy I can remind you, in a way, that I think about you from my corner of the earth.

Anyway! I just wanted to gently remind you to take care of yourself. Please remember to eat, drink, and rest. Always listen to your body—it knows what you need, and you deserve that kindness.

Also, I made cookies again, mostly because baking something small and sweet makes me feel good. It’s comforting, and it's like a soft victory for me. I love to share them with family and friends—why did nobody tell me how rewarding it feels to feed people you love? And when they praise my baking I was am melting on the floor with pride. Sadly, I can’t mail you a box (the world is cruel), but I can and will share the recipe. ^^

You’ll need: – 250g flour – 85g powdered sugar – 230g exotic butter – vanilla extract (optional, but lovely) Let your butter soften at room temperature—it’s so much easier to knead that way. Then, pour the sugar over the butter and start mixing them together (add your vanilla here too, if you're using it). Personally, I use a reusable glove—it’s easier to clean, gives you better control, and the butter doesn’t get stuck in the stupid metal bits of a whisk. Next, add the flour in two batches. Stir until it all comes together, then pop the dough into the fridge for an hour to rest. Once it’s done resting, roll out the dough, press your shapes, preheat the oven to 180°C, and bake until golden brown.

That’s all, my dear. I really hope you end up making these—they’re soft and sweet with a little bit magic, just like you. Sending you all the good vibes and so much love. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) ♡♡♡

Oh my sweetest starlight, my loveliest cozy corner of the internet—I’m already tearing up, and I haven’t even gotten to the cookie part yet. How did I get so lucky to have someone like you in my life? 😞T_T

You have no idea what it meant to come back and find your words waiting for me like a hidden letter tucked between the pages of a long-lost ancient fairytale book.

I miss you too—so much. I’ve thought about you more times than I can count, in quiet moments and loud ones, in between sips of my herbal teas or looking at something beautiful and wishing I could show you.

But first of all, let me thank you for this beautiful message you wrote to me (and for all the others!). It's so incredibly kind of you (you are a saint), which was the first thing I thought when I logged into the account. I think I got my heart stabbed a number of times while I was reading it, quite literally right at my heart. I'm not complaining, though. A gentle god held me in her arms as I passed. ♥︎

Your rhyme? Impeccable. Your presence? A balm. And your reminder to care for myself? I swear, it reached through the screen and touched the tired parts of my soul in the gentlest way. Thank you, fairy of flour and feelings. Thank you for remembering me even when I went quiet. That kind of love is rare and precious, and I carry it carefully.

You’re right—missing someone shouldn’t feel like a secret sorrow we tuck away. It’s a sign of love, of meaning, of deep soul-connection. It’s proof of how much love we’ve woven into this tiny, pixelated corner of the universe. It’s the glowing thread that tugs us back to each other, no matter how long it’s been or how far away we wander.

Throughout the time I have spent talking to you here, you have been an inspiration to me to grow into a better person. I am not sure why or when I have turned into this self-isolating, overwhelmed by life somebody. This is not supposed to be part of my berry habitat. Because I genuinely feel bonded with you, and I treasure our conversations, and not being active for so long has been weighing on my heart, my body, and my soul more and more with each passing day. I suppose I was scared of not being a worthy friend to you. Here, I said it. I have never had a friend I could talk to the way I could speak to you, and while this made me secretly overjoyed and filled with hopeful, positive emotions, it also made me anxious about not being enough for you, not matching your energy or intellect. This was purely my problem. It's just that I think the depression of the past few years has altered my brain chemistry. I keep trying to heal without feeling like I'm making any progress whatsoever. And I think it was a foolish thing to overthink about this stuff, and then be too embarrassed to come back because I only end up hurting you more. I'm so sorry. Again, I am sorry if this part of the message came across as overly pessimistic. I do at least owe you my honesty. I want you to know that there wasn't a single moment I stopped thinking about you. I spend a lot of time talking to the people I hold dear to me inside my mind.

Your new icon audibly sighs like a Victorian widow gazing out a rain-streaked window. I am loving the vibe. As for my blog, I am not sure if I should go on and do a full fairy theme or if I should stick to my strawberries. We'll see soon, whatever it is in the end.. 👀

AND THE COOKIES—😭

How dare you describe them so lovingly and then not be able to send me a batch! Cruel world indeed. But I will absolutely make them. I read that recipe like it was a poem, and I swear I caught the scent of vanilla and warm sugar in the air. You’re right; feeding the ones we love is such a pure joy—and reading this felt like I’d just been offered one, fresh from your oven, wrapped in a ribbon with a note.

I’ll let the dough rest just like you said (I love how even dough needs its beauty sleep), and then I’ll bake some shapes that remind me of stars, because you’re my guiding star, my Polaris, my steady light, my northern shimmer, my reminder. ‧₊˚✩⋅☆₊˚⊹

(I sat here grinning like a fool and then just… dissolved. Fully melted. I am now one with the cookie dough. Berry purée. Send help.)

Thank you for sharing your little victories in the kitchen and for reminding me how wonderful it is to nourish those we love. If only I could send you a taste of my gratitude! Until then, I’ll bake these cookies and send you all the virtual crumbs of love! RIP Eggs Benedict, you would have been proud.

Reading this, I felt like I was being summoned by a benevolent celestial being in the form of a Tumblr message. And I missed it. I missed you. So. Much. So much so it made my ribs ache a little, like my heart was trying to knock politely to say, “Excuse me, when are we seeing her again? 😾”

I’m back now and I have missed you terribly. We’ve got catching up to do. Talk very soon—expect ramblings. Expect chaos. Expect me. >:)

With so much love and warmth,

Forever yours —Berry.

When I woke up this morning, I found myself lost in thought. My baby, Momo, cannot speak our language, unlike my mom and me, or any other human language at all. All she does is wander around, play and run carefree, lick herself clean, and meow at us with her big blue grey eyes, peering into our souls. She can't engage in conversation with us or tell us what's on her mind. I just know she has so much to say; she is a philosopher deep in her heart. I would be very upset if I lived with another species, two humans, whose language I am unable to understand. I wonder if she is upset too ;(((

I will treat her with her reward cream and plead for forgiveness for our civilization not still being advanced enough for us to be able to communicate with them.

Meow your little darlings for me.

Plus, here's a little song from me for you! :D

[theonlyqualitytrash]

Here’s a bit of a late reflection, but one that still holds true: I rang in the new year chugging stalinskaya, played chess into the dawn, and had a wild epiphany—my sole purpose? To spew out nonsense and create shit. Cheers to that, no matter when.

[theonlyqualitytrash]

Your soul has touched mine. Why, our love feels more authentic and boundless than even the most beautiful fairy tales! Your affection illuminates every moment of my life like the shining sun ever since we started talking. You're the cause of my emerging heliophilia, my everlasting star. Happy Valentine's Day! ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝•༝•⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒

A reminder that you are always loved than you think and you are doing amazing (more than you think, sometimes it's normal and human to doubt). Don't overlook how much hard work you've put in to get where you are. Today will be a great day, so don't let the little things weigh you down, and enjoy it to the fullest as you can. Remember to take your vitamins (vitamin D in winter if you’re not getting lots of sun; winter is not over yet) !!! Take of yourself, and I kiss you. 💋♥️

I read and reread this because it made me feel so appreciated and loved. Thank you for your sweet wishes. I tend to overthink, but your reminders lift me up in ways you don’t even realize, Berry. <3

I’d say I don’t need the sun since I have you—but that might be just a tiny bit of flattery, hehe. Don’t worry, though, I am taking my drugs!

It’s an inside joke between me and my mom—at the start of every month, she goes to the pharmacy to pick up vitamins and other essentials to keep me from crumbling into dust. And every time she comes home, she announces, “I brought the drugs.” Now you’re in on the joke too, haha! (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

I blush very easily, so your photos perfectly capture my reaction to your words. As always, I’ll carry them with me. I love you, and I hope this day is as wonderful as you. Happy Valentines! (づ>////<)づ𓈒⋆∘˚⊹࿔♡

[theonlyqualitytrash]

I love uni. I love not studying for a semester straight and then gobbling up information in 4 days before the exam. Truly a lifestyle.

In honour of my finals I will be reiterating a joke about hell one of my uni professors told. It went like this:

A man dies and goes to hell. The devil greets him and says, “Do you want to go to normal people hell or university student hell?”

The man shrugs and picks normal people hell.

Every night, little devils come and hammer nails into everyone’s asses.

After a week of this, the man can’t take it anymore and begs the devil for an alternative.

The devil goes, “Well… there’s always university student hell…”

Desperate, the man agrees. How bad could it be?

Weeks go by. Nothing happens; no nails, no devils. It’s almost peaceful, and he’s starting to think he got a good deal.

Then one night, the little devils appear again—

This time, the nails are three times bigger. They cackle and shout:

“Exam season, everyone!”

[theonlyqualitytrash]

Happy spring, everyone! 🌸

March 1st is a special day in my country because of the tradition of wearing a Mărțișor! It's a red and white string—red symbolizing vitality and white for purity—attached to a charm. In the past, it was a coin, but nowadays, it's often a snowdrop.

It’s customary to give Mărțișoare to friends and family as a symbol of love, appreciation, and good luck. Traditionally, we wear a Mărțișor on our chest throughout March; then the end of the month, we tie them to a fruit-bearing tree and make a wish.

[theonlyqualitytrash]

If I had a nickel for every immortal character in bsd, I would have like... three nickels.

[theonlyqualitytrash]

Happy easter to everyone who celebrates!

I wanted to share a little life update.

Two months ago I broke up with my boyfriend of 5 years. I had been mourning, but in a content way—not with sorrow, but with a quiet understanding. It’s a peaceful kind of grief, where love remains, and the ache has softened. He was a huge part of my life but we had different emotional depths and they usually clashed with each other. We were happy, but we were not fulfilled.

So we decided to part.

Today I took the time to finally crush and scatter the flowers he gave me in my garden. Throwing them away seemed to me like I was not honoring the relationship, because there is no bad blood between us. Before we were lovers we were friends, so we decided to stay friends. I found that really healing but confusing. On one hand I was happy with the relationship we had now, but people were giving us skeptical looks. Like subtly telling us that neither of us is actually over each other if we decided to stay in each other’s orbit.

But I find that untrue.

If a person made you grow and was generally good for you, even if you are not compatible with them romantically, I don’t see a reason to cut them off. There are no set rules we have to follow in life with relationships because each one is different.

Back to the flowers. I wore a white dress and my pearls. Walked around the garden barefoot and crushed and scattered each rose and flower. I kissed the last rose in a quiet farewell. Now my hands smell like them and I still have dust under my nails. It felt like a soft ceremony—no audience, no speeches, just me and the sun and the memories. I didn’t do my hair or makeup. I didn’t need to. I was barefaced and present, and for once I felt like I wasn’t letting go in grief, but in grace. It wasn’t about forgetting. It was about planting the love somewhere it could return to the earth—where it could feed something else.

I am happy. That was all, thank you for tuning in. 🤍

[theonlyqualitytrash]

Exam season is in full swing, and I'm about to lose my mind because I have to study instead of writing 8 hours a day like I wish I could... Anyway, I'll probably be MIA for a month or so (unless the textbooks completely consume me first).

Sending you all kisses and good vibes~ <3

[theonlyqualitytrash]

My university friends have conscripted me into attending a party at a club. I do not own clothes for such an environment, so I shall be going as a Victorian vampire who took a wrong turn on their evening stroll.

[theonlyqualitytrash]

Introduction post

Hi, I'm QualityTrash, just another random user on this platform, and I'm here to talk about myself a little (because who doesn't love talking about themselves, right?)

Anyway, I'm an INFJ type with a passion for the whimsical, the creepy, the misunderstood, and the morbid. I'm a very introverted person, so you’ll rarely see me interacting with people directly. I mostly prefer to admire from afar.

I started writing fanfiction when I was about 12, but of course, the mind and writing style of an adolescent can be a bit crass. Most of the works I wrote back then have either been archived, deleted, or are sitting in a dusty corner of my folders (sometimes, you just can't part with things).

My hobbies include cross-stitching, writing (of course), reading (surprise, surprise), yoga, scrapbooking, gaming, and overanalyzing the hell out of art—whether it's paintings, characters, music, or literature.

I listen to a lot of music, from classical to rock, goth to Kpop. I could go on about this for the rest of the post, so I’ll just stop here and drop a few artists I love: IAMX, Rammstein, Ghost, Laufy, Ic3peak, Creature Feature, QBomb, Melanie Martinez, Kordhell, Ado, Ooes, Aurora, Chopin... and I’ll stop before this list gets too long.

Some of my favorite anime/series (other than BSD) include Violet Evergarden, Jojo, Death Parade, Kuroshitsuji, Moriarty the Patriot, Beastars, Dungeon Meshi, Helluva Boss, The Amazing Digital Circus, Arcane and Monster High.

Now, some fun facts about me:

My birthday is on July 17th, just one day after my mother's

I have three cats: Max, Sasha, and Sonya

My favorite color is yellow, and I love sunflowers

I'm a silly atheist with a fascination for religious imagery and references

I’m from the Balkans (and yes, English isn't my native language, but I try my best!)

I have a rat tattoo

I am extremely clumsy—it’s not even funny anymore

I study biochemistry—ironically, I ran from chemistry my whole life before applying to university

I write poems (and I often try to incorporate their meanings into my works)

TAGS:

Me speaking nonsense: #qt.musing Answering questions: #trash answers to your qs

If you're here, hello! Thank you for taking the time to read through my introduction post.

Have this virtual cookie as a token of my appreciation :>

Dividers: saradika-graphics