@northernwinedregs

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Hi brain, you obstinate fucker. I drank the clear splashy stuff. I ate the green things. I went under that bright fucker up there. I did the thing with the moving and sweating and whatnot. Now make the happy chemical, you lump of fuck.

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cryptonature

Vultures are holy creatures.

Tending the dead.

Bowing low.

Bared head.

Whispers to cold flesh,

“Your old name is not your king.

I rename you ‘Everything.’”

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Anonymous asked:

Sometimes I check your blog to get an insight, in case there’s did something you’re not telling me.

I don’t know who this is (I have my suspicions, but you wouldn’t be anonymous if not to rouse my suspicions) but if you’re one of the many people I haven’t replied to in a very long time, please know that you haven’t done anything wrong and it’s me who’s an uncommunicative ghost.

I am thirty years old and I still haven’t quite figured out how to a) work 60 hours a week b) take care of myself properly and c) be in contact with people. I can do two out of three, but never all of it consistently. In the Venn diagram of my life, something has to give.

So work is fine and I am doing well, but you don’t want to be friends with a ghost, do you? You want something flesh and blood and verbal. For which I apologise