vervainium

[vervainium]

trauma makes believing and trusting in love a lot like believing and trusting in god; a hard thing to do even if proof is present, all because some painful things happened to me.

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dreamt last night that my godmother was getting married, she’s been married for years but i didn’t think anything of it. my mom couldn’t make it so i was a brides maid in her place. there was this creepy single photo photobooth and my godmother was very adamant that i try it first. when the picture printed, it was just a picture of my childhood dog laying on the floor instead of me. i was the only one weirded out.

(said childhood dog and i. she’s been dead since 2016.)

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so i unironically really enjoy pomegranates. i like peeling them, eating them straight from the fruit, and i never really considered the metaphor.

however… there was this one time my boyfriend peeled a pomegranate for me and brought me the seeds along with sushi, dr. pepper and flowers during my break after i was having a bad day. i kind of understand the metaphor now.

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mmm had a dream that i had tattoos on my leg and when asked about them, i said “they’re nice but i don’t think i like some of them…” and that means something.

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i had this dream that maybe i worked at a day care or something because there were a lot of kids, and the basement had ceiling tile floors so if you stepped too hard or like fast or aggressive, you could fall through. anyways, at the back of the basement was a room and inside was dirt floors, a big alter and then a sarcophagus in front of it.

we opened that bid up and inside wasn’t egyptian artifacts per say, it was like a 1940s military wooden trunk for a soldier and then inside had like dog tags, personal items, a duffle bag, and then a handbag that was decrepit that had egyptian hieroglyphs. a few people i know irl helped me open it and we went to show our boss who was my actually boss irl.

when we went back down to the basement there were no lights and for some reason they just ran across the tiles and like they all started to fall. i sat down and just like let everyone pass me so they didn’t knock a tile from underneath me but like while i’m reaching the end, everyone is falling through the tiles and screaming and crying, idk what was under the tiles, my brain said lots of fragile pipes and darkness.

and then i woke up

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i love you so much, it’s changing me. my beliefs, my independence, compromised. i’m starting to think i don’t know who i am without you.

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last night i had a dream that my boyfriend came with me to my hometown about three states away. we visited my dads house, one he doesn’t live in anymore but the one i remember the most. it still had everything in it and i got to show him parts of myself that don’t exist anymore. he was very amused by the fact that to get to my older brothers room, you had to go through the bathroom. he met my dad and some people from a haunted house i worked at before i moved. my hometown is very small, 26 or 27 streets to it so we walked around and i showed him the other two houses we lived in. one was this brick house that we didn’t go in because i cant remember what the inside looks like, and the other was a duplex my dad lived in for a few years in assisted living. we didn’t go in that one either.

after showing him things i never can in real life, we started the hour journey to the lake house that i share with extended family. before we can get there, the world starts to end via magic. we try to get food at this one fast food place but its overrun by goblins and fae. we detour into the country side where we meet this group of people that aren’t related to each other whatsoever and didn’t know each other before this, but had familial roles. they knew magic and such so we decided it was a good idea to stick with them.

we come across this old stone built farm, where a very very old, centuries old, witch lives. there’s a portal in the barn, and next to the barn is this graveyard where living dead people, vampires, and actual dead people are all either staked or caged into the ground. i suddenly am holding a big fat dog, a pitbull probably. one of the younger boys in our group goes into the portal and all we hear is him screaming in pain when he disappears. the old witch tsked at him and said something about a password. then one of the girls of our group mumbles the password, and the portal glows orange and my boyfriend jumps through. immediately, im terrified he’s dead. i forced the girl to say it again and come with me through the portal, where i find my boyfriend along with a variety of other people in my life including my father. boyfriend and i reunite in tears. in the process of trying to get back through the portal, i wake up.

all in all, a wonderful dream. 10/10 and would dream again.

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would i fail the orpheus test? you mean leading my two closest friends through a crowded house party to the garage so we might smoke cigarettes together?

i’d fail every time. every five steps i’d look over my shoulder for them.

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my boyfriend and i are very fond of the idea that freckles and moles are where your past life’s lover kissed you the most, so much so we’ve decided to kiss two places to make one more in the next life so we can recognize each other then too.

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thinking about this friendship i had in highschool with a girl. it was secretly us against everyone else. we would share meaningful glances, have unnoticed conversations, ive never communicated so easily with someone.

we would meet up in the bathroom during second period on b days without ever texting one another. there was a relative fifteen minute timeframe we would normally go but we always synced up without telling each other.

we had a whistle for each other. if i knew she would be in a room i’m entering, i’ll whistle at her and she’ll whistle back. if i’m lost in the crowds of hungry teenagers in the cafeteria, i’ll find her with the whistle.

we are still really good friends. not interlinked but connected. she’s now one of those friends that i don’t have to talk to every day but know deep down we are the closest of friends.

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when i die, my spirit will return to where it belongs; my grandmothers house during christmas time.

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my boyfriend and i have decided on how we would lay if we were ever to die in a natural disaster incase our bones would be found by archeologists later. we call it our pompeii pose.

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i want to make art

i want to be alone

i want to make music

i want to sit on a window sill in the early morning

i want to explore

i want to create

i want to hide

i want you

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take your time, i’m taking mine.

my food4thought. my pinterest @vervainiium

passionate abt jeff buckley, my sweetness, and the oxford comma. also known to enjoy philosophy and listening to the universe. do you talk back sometimes?

maybe dream journaling. digital fiction straight from the dome.

sometimes i just talk.

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not to be dramatic but i think my lover is the most beautiful man person thing to ever exist, everyone else is UGLY since i’ve encountered his light.

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artists who do tributes after someone they dearly love dies are strong, i think. if my best friend ever died, all of my art in all forms would cease, there is no point if the person i love cannot see it.

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i could make an entire universe with my love for you. the galaxies will swirl in the pattern of your curls, the nebulas will be the color of your eyes, every star with have your initial on it.