I am a gourmet cook. I used to love food and cooking. Now, it seems that all I want are dark greens, collards, mustard greens, cabbage, bok choy, turnip greens and handful of barley in a vegetable soup. Food has lost its attachment for me. I’ll still cook up some spring rolls, a stir fry or even grill a steak for my family but for me such foods hold no appeal. This lack of attachment is symptomatic of a kind of withdrawal from the world I have been experiencing lately.

I have become increasingly distant and my emotions are balanced and calm even in the midst of chaos. As an empathic sensitive I used to be greatly affected by the emotions of others now when I see someone angry or sad I am like a deaf man in a noisy crowd. It all seems so distant and unfolds in slow motion. Other people notice this about me and it seems to be unnerving to them. I practice my active compassion but it is harder to engage others. I do not have the connection I once did. I am uncertain why this is.

๑ Samsaran ๑

The Three Bravest People in History
  1. The person who first cracked open an oyster shell and ate the fishy tasting slime and thought “this would be good with cocktail sauce”.
  2. The person who first boiled an artichoke and instead of assuming it wanted to kill him with its spines thought “this would be good with butter”.
  3. The person who was walking along a stream in Japan and picked a wasabi root and took a bite and after gagging and choking thought “this would be good with raw fish and rice’.
Perfectly Imperfect

Admin: Lilith
Imagine: Hi could you write a lucifer reader fic? Where youre dating lucifer and then the brothers throw him back in the cage. This causes you to fall into a deep depression and kill yourself but your personal heaven is an apple pie life with lucifer. But you know this isnt the real lucifer so you suffer until (plot twist) you find out that youre actually in the cage with him because crowley saved you and sent you there

Word Count: 2300
Warning: Depression, mental health facilities, etc.

Everything had been wonderful.
Your fallen angel moved in with you, and the ups and downs of your relationship seemed easier to navigate.  When he touched you, you could feel fire licking under his skin.  He smelled of ancient spices and the smoky, dark smell of heady incense; underneath it all, the lingering scent of brimstone that somehow turned sweet on his skin.

And then they came, faces grim, eyes full of judgment.  Lucifer shoved you into the bedroom and did something to the lock, sealing you in.
You knelt on the floor, shaking too hard to stand up.  When you couldn’t scream for him anymore and your hands were bruised from pounding on the door, you pressed your ear to the wood and listened to the sounds of your living room being turned into a battlefield.
Lucifer bellowed in pain, just once.  His voice cut off sharply and there was a strange sound, as if a rip in the world was sealing itself.

Keep reading