vox-communicae

[vox-communicae]

[vox-communicae]

This is one of my favourite oc/wol qotd posts to make because I do think it paves the way for positive interactions and the like—so!

If you could have one self-indulgent thing in your writing/roleplay/characterisations right now, what would it be and why? This could be something as simple as 'I wish I had the confidence to post x work' or 'I wish I could roleplay x and y but I would need [insert character type here] to make it work' or even 'I'd love to find x community but I'm not sure if it even exists'.

If you see someone's indulgence here and you can help them by either supporting or contributing to it, take the time to reach out! ✨You might just make a new friend or encourage someone to be more confident in their work.

[vox-communicae]

"lol tiktok users would rather learn mandarin than come to tumblr" yeah man that's crazy. who would have thought that people from the video-based dopamine-machine app wouldn't decide to join the text- and image- based no-algorithm website?

[vox-communicae]

tumblr discourse after 13 years on this fucking website

[vox-communicae]

musk is going to die in a Tesla explosion in 6 months after sticking his nose where it doesn't belong and we will never get a conclusive answer on whether it was a CIA car bomb or just a normal Tesla malfunction

[vox-communicae]

reminders for today:

if you or someone you know might need it in the next few years, purchase plan b. the shelf life of plan b is 4 years, and we might not be able to access it as easily as we can now in the days ahead.

if you are larger/plus size: go online and purchase ella instead of plan b. plan b is less effective if you aren’t under 160 pounds.

if you can, purchase books that project 2025 is looking to ban.

mass deportations are starting. if you see ice vehicles or agents, yell ice raid and la migra as loud as you can.

if someone asks who you voted for, keep your mouth shut. they’re fishing for traitors.

if anyone, anyone at all asks about your neighbors or their legal status in the us, you know nothing. don’t be the reason that their family is separated.

if anyone asks about your religion or lack thereof, keep it vague. this administration will look for any excuse to persecute you.

your friends are trans or queer? for the next four years they’re not. don’t expose anyone’s status as a trans or queer person to anyone else, even if you think you can trust them.

did someone you know get an abortion? no, they didn’t. they were never pregnant.

in short, don’t be a snitch, and keep to yourself these next four years. we’ll make it through this even if it seems hopeless at times.

this is all i can think of at the moment, but i’ll be adding on to this as the day continues.

we can survive this. we’ve survived before, and we’ll survive again.

[vox-communicae]

So like... I made this when I was in a very bad place. Facing constant verbal abuse every day and constant arguments. And that all kinda died (literally) after my mother passed away

She was the cause of it. She was a drunk cheating lying manipulative woman who would take out her anger or frustrations on her children or husband. And then pretend the horrible things she said never happened. Or the age old "I'm sorry YOU felt that way"

She would've sacrificed anything for her own image, reputation or benefit. And she did, she sacrificed a relationship with all 4 of her children and her husband for the sake of her own means, and she did. And in the end two of us have mourned her, I am not one of those two

So... This blog is kinda dead in the water because of that. I've been happier. I've slept better. And there hasn't been an argument in the six months that have passed since she died, times haven't gotten easier. But the vibe of the house and the energy of everything has been at an all time high

So to say. If you find this blog and wonder what happened, why there's been so long since the last post... That's why

[vox-communicae]

“Many people seem to think it foolish, even superstitious, to believe that the world could still change for the better. And it is true that in winter it is sometimes so bitingly cold that one is tempted to say, ‘What do I care if there is a summer; its warmth is no help to me now.’ Yes, evil often seems to surpass good. But then, in spite of us, and without our permission, there comes at last an end to the bitter frosts. One morning the wind turns, and there is a thaw. And so I must still have hope.”

— Vincent Van Gogh

[vox-communicae]

The cool morning air creeps in through my windows. A chill brought on by the heavy rain. The song of birds echoing through the symphony of water impacting upon concrete. Brick. Mortar. and metal

The chaos of the prison on which I live no longer present. No screams. No anger. No demons birthed of uncaring mothers. Doomed to repeat the same idiotic mistakes of their parents

Just nature's orchestra, and I the sole guest to observe it in this rare. Precious moment

[vox-communicae]

The angered voice of a loathesome wretch i am forced to live under grabs my attention. followed by the shrill scream of one of the few people i do love, my eyes roll disjointed in their sockets. Its happening again, another argument, another depressive night. the cycle of abuse continuing as i am powerless to hinder it

what causes it? what compells a person to be so horrific to their spouse? what compells a woman to be such a blighted creature to everything she claims to love? directly and indirectly hurting them with her own actions. whether careless or intentional it matters not, the effects of such actions. the wounds they bare, no balm or salve can cure it

the silent anger quells in my throat again, violent desires dance in my cranium. But no strength or will to deal with them. i silently pray to the gods i believe in for patience, for if they grant me the strength to solve my problems i know the dams will break and the red rivers will flow freely, drowning anything beyond them... the few semblences i have of a normal life washed away with the drowned

the streets seem so much more appealing day by day, less do i think of my home as a prison, and more of a gilded cage with the door left wide open "i could leave whenever i want, pack up what little i could take with me and rough it out on the streets if it gets too bad" i think to myself. knowing that i would only be able to take clothes, water, and some food. leaving behind everything that would bring me joy, the connections to the family i have found amongst my friends, the few vices that grant me succor in these times... a metaphorical barrel to the loaded gun i could suckle upon

another day in paradise

[vox-communicae]

To be a creature birthed only for the prestige of another, and not for the want of a child is a burden

How do you truly come to terms with the idea that you were never truly wanted? That the being who claims to be your mother only ever wanted to feel like a mother, and never once wanted to contest with the troubles of parenthood and raising a child?

How do you fix the years of cracks that appear from the realisation that you were never truly desired, that you stopped being wanted the second you could form your own opinions without recourse or retaliation

How do you ever recover from being told that you shouldn't have been born, that who you became never should've come to pass. As if you're a science experiment gone wrong, to dispose of and "Try again" for a more desireable result

I let the thoughts creep back in to the nothingness as i distract myself once more with the fleeting joys of the company i keep, and the entertainment i find

[vox-communicae]

I lay here. Acid boiling in my throat, tears welling in my eyes from the sensation and the pain. I curse my body once more for it's genetics. A problem far out of my control

"It could be worse" I always try to convince myself. A placebo to make the pain feel less horrible "At least it's just acid reflux and not something worse" as if the thought makes the pain less unbearable

[vox-communicae]

My smile fades, the thoughts creeping back in like ice freezing over a window

I long for a childhood i never experienced, for a life i never lived

I yearn to walk without pain, to eat without aching, to exist without remembering the melancholic feelings that plague my waking thoughts

How do you come to terms with being a creature brought into this world, screaming and covered in blood. Only for the person who brought your existence into reality only wanting to feel the joy of parenthood, the sensation and feelings of being a parent, without any want of raising a child?

I let my mind sink back into numbness. The escapism of sound in my ear, the taste of a good drink on my tongue, trying to forget my longing of a reality i was never allowed to experience

[vox-communicae]

Who am i?

A carbon based lifeform comprised of the core components to make a human body. You can call me anything, there is no identity to be held here. Just an anonymouse source

What am i?

Still figuring it out

What am i doing?

Uncaging my thoughts. i'm a very introspective being who grew up with a lot of media that i shouldn't have been exposed to realistically, who went through a lot of abuse growing up. and both have had a lingering affect on me, the media in how i want to write. and how i do write. and the abuse, how i've grown... or more accurately how it stunted me, Its healthier to compose those thoughts into these writing blurbs i post than it is to let them linger in my head and heart

Why?

Somedays its harder to process these emotions than others. My hopes are that composing it into words might make them easier to digest... Otherwise i'll simply let them linger and rot inside me. drowning my emotions in numbness instead of letting myself feel them