"And I Don't Even Care If It's Just A Summer Fling" (lies) "if It's All Experimental And You Go Back

Rainbow Refraction

As the stars fall from the sky I catch them in a wicker basket to weave into your hair and make you shine Polished, perfect, like diamond prisms catching a lazy sunbeam Rainbows refraction Beautiful in every way Who needs the sun? I've got you to warm up my life

LOOK AT THESE BEANS!! We will get through this.🫂

Hi. Things are bleak, I know that. I know that we paid for Trump's last term with blood and it is likely the price will be blood again.

But listen to me. LISTEN.

You do not have to force yourself to witness horrors as an act of activism. It is not a form of activism. You can put your phone down, you can block that horrific video. We cannot win if you cannot fight and you will not be able to fight if you are hopeless.

Do not let them guilt you into this. People who are exhausted are easier to walk over. Take care of yourself, find community where you find joy.

I would prefer to ache than to feel nothingness. I want to listen to songs that make me double over in emotional agony because pain is beautiful. Pain connects us. I want to skip down the street and run over train tracks. I want to be early to weddings in my best dress, and stay late at house parties helping my friend get the crumbs out of their couch. I want to sway with the ocean. I want to grow like a sunflower, to face the sun and have no regrets.

“i would rather die of passion than of boredom”

- Van Gough

My heart is torn in several directions. The stitches which held me together once before

U n r a v e l.

I dance with the girl I was,

to find the answers.

"This is the season of holding on,

Of wrapping your hands

around the warmth of a dream

That refuses to fade

even as the cold settles in"

DAMN OK --

The weather is frosty—

breath trails like unspoken prayers,

straight smoke rising,

soft and sure as forgiveness.

The air tastes of sugar-glazed cranberries,

sweet but sharp,

like the memory of a love

too wild to tame,

too tender to forget.

Every step crunches,

a hymn beneath winter’s breath,

the world stitched in frost,

its edges trembling,

alive with the silence of waiting.

This is the season of holding on,

of wrapping your hands

around the warmth of a dream

that refuses to fade,

even as the cold settles in.

*basking aggressively*

mid march mantra

I miss you. I miss the feel of your hair through my fingers and the way you'd sigh and relax into my touch. I miss the random song quotes that are always somehow absolutely perfect for the situation. I miss when you'd laugh like a child. I miss calling you at midnight. I miss how your voice would soften up, just for me. I miss when you'd hug me, then hug me tighter. Like nothing in the world could take me away. Why'd you let me go away? I miss you. Whyd you say those hurtful things to me? Why do you never understand. I love you, and I know you love me. But why are we always mismatched puzzle pieces?

I hate that I'm hurting you. I hate the thought of you lying in someone else's lap. But I can't be there for you like I want to because it will rip me apart.

I don't want anyone else to touch me. Their fingers feel clammy on my skin. And when I see brown eyes in sunlight all I think about is you. How could I kiss someone with your name on my lips? That would be a crime. And yet I want someone to press my body against a wall and cover up your fingerprints with theirs and kiss me so hard I forget everything about kissing you and remember everything about myself. I want to remember how to move toward someone else's warmth. I want to learn how to love you from a distance. How to say "happy birthday." Not "get in your car and come back to me."

I want to see your new girl and be happy for you. I want you to get a new girl. I want you to let me go. Even though it hurts. I want you to be happy without me. Even though that's sort of a lie. I want you to come pick me up and take me home. I want you to mark me and call me yours and tuck me in and sleep on my chest with my fingers in your hair. I want you to sigh and relax into my touch.

But we are still mismatched puzzle pieces.

The problem is, when I try to write spicy scenes in my stories I start to get shy for the characters.

*tries to type while looking away*

Intriguing...

Have any nightmares lately?

This figurine represents the Baku (獏 or 貘). The baku’s story originated in Chinese mythology as the mo (貘), believed to resemble a giant panda. It later evolved into a nightmare-warding figure in Japan.

Early depictions illustrate the baku as a chimera with the trunk and tusks of an elephant, the ears of a rhinoceros, the tail of a cow, the body of a bear, and the paws of a tiger. While this version was said to ward off pestilence and evil, its dream-devouring ability emerged later in Japanese culture. By the late 18th century, the baku as known as the guardian of sleep. One legend describes how a child waking from a bad dream could call out, “Baku-san, come eat my dream,” repeating it three times to summon the baku.

Folklore warns that calling the baku too often could have consequences—if left unsatisfied, it might consume not just bad dreams but also the person’s hopes and desires.

Image: Baku, Mythical Animal. 18th century. White porcelain (Hirado ware), H. 7/8 in. (2.2 cm); L. 1 7/8 in. (4.8 cm). The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

I would like to bathe in a river of roses