— Frank Bidart, From “Half-light: Collected Poems 1965-2016; ‘In The Ruin."

My problem is that I live inside my head too much. I drag my life around like a raging demigod dragging a corpse, only no one will come at my door in the dead of the night to ease my fire. I bear a kind of weariness and discontent no sleep can satisfy because the world I wake up to is painfully dull in comparison to the ones I created in my head. I let my thoughts drift to far-off places, to unfamiliar landscapes I'll probably never set foot on just to shun the tedious sameness of days. I escape because I can't bear the vague nausea of being paper skin and hollow bones. I turn in on myself  because people and their expectations bruise me. There is no method in this madness but I will lie straight through my teeth if someone ever asks.

I don't know how long my body will tolerate this somnambulist life I live. There are predators in every world, and sometimes they are made of whispers from the void. What if one day I wake up standing on the edge of  a precipice? I'm scared I'll choose to meet my demons below instead of walking back home. You think you know all about it because I always write about the disquiet in me but my words don't conjure it the way it really is. The suffocation, the paralysis of the soul, the horror of the depths— all are lost in translation. But as long as I never let the dust get to my teeth I can swim back up. I let it gather on my tongue instead, and I use it to taunt  the bony hands in the abyss reaching for my throat.

It's not fair to feel like fading while remaining perfectly solid in everyone's eyes, to be as lifeless as a statue in a dark room while the party goes on just outside the door. That's why in this life there will always be trains I will run after, misty woods I'll dream of running into, and birds I'll stare longingly at until the clouds consume them. I scream these all in papers with a maddening frustration until my temples ache. I hope you know I don't wish to play god, I just want to stop burning.

— artemis, "Sleepwalking"

In honor of back-to-school.

The number of “lmao good ban the pro-shippers” takes I’ve seen the last two days has been…so funny and sad.

You will suffer if ao3 starts cracking down on certain things. Your ships, the things you like…are not pure. I don’t know how to explain this to you any better???

The ships you are cherishing in your minds and hearts right this second? Someone hates them and wants to take them away from you. Sometimes for reasons you haven’t even THOUGHT OF. All of you. You’re not special and pure “lmao”

hello there :)

Cat boyfriend

I mean, it probably goes without saying, but the Found Family trope is so popular because so very many people are so terribly, terribly lonely

I’m just gonna leave this here.

ty for the tag @darcymariaphoster love the antlers xd

anyway here's me-

new reblog game!!

so i’m kinda curious what my moots actually look like, so rb this, make a picrew of yourself, and tag your mutuals!

here’s mine :) (maker used: aloha sushicore)

np tags: @spidervee @iheardarumorthings @thewritingbabe @scandalous-chaos @ddejavvu @winterwisteria

sufins

Tall bottoms are truly a masterpiece

you know it

bonus