weary souls

A Naked Thought

I cannot digest
My existence
Or yours
Or his
Or hers

And why
Does the night sky tug
At my heart?
Why does the sea
Enthrall me?
What is in the eyes
And in the brain
That ties us to the world we
What is in this human experience
That there is beauty
Even behind our plagued souls
And weary feet
And why can I
Not say
That the world is
Completely terrible?

today a lesbian couple came into the cafe and one asked what was in the bread and the other said “bananas, it’s sweet and healthy, just like you!” and i felt the weariness of my soul lift up into heaven


The Night Court - The Court Of Dreams

My friend through many dangers.

My lover who had healed my broken and weary soul.

My mate who had waited for me against all hope, despite all odds.

A few words.

For everyone who knows how to actually show respect to a content creator, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.  It’s absolutely unfortunate how everything went down and I know people love Flowerfell.  I know I do.  Flowerfell was my world for nearly a year and I’m very close to the situation at hand.  Sanei is my best friend.  Hell anything Sanei creates is so beautiful and inspiring to me I would do anything for them.  Sanei is an adorable dipshit memer and I can’t imagine life without them.

To those who took down their blogs, stopped roleplaying, took down their stories and changed their cosplay plans out of pure respect.  Thank you, you are absolutely golden people.  The outpouring of love from the good people is so beautiful and light and warms my weary SOUL.  I am sorry it came to this and your work was probably great, this is a very classic case of a few putrid, rotten apples spoiling the bunch.  Blame the rotten apples not the tree.  I know I read some pretty neat things from fans for babyhell especially and I cherish that.  Shit I was always impressed by the cosplayers.  It sucks what happened and I can only hope one day you guys get the story that you want to see.

To the fan artists: Keep on keeping on.  I will always reblog you and show you love.

There is a thing that often happens with popular things and it’s called ‘Fan Entitlement’.  It’s disgusting.  A content creator does not owe you a single fucking thing.  You are not owed the ending to a story you do not deserve the ending to a story in exchange for your support.  It. Is. Not. Yours.  People who feel entitled have stripped all the joy out of a human being, a once vibrant creator, for a time, turned a dull grey.  This person means the world to me and to watch this happen broke my heart to pieces.  I had to watch someone I loved grow distrust for their fanbase and near hatred for something they bore and once loved so dearly.

So I took to the offensive.  Asking for people to take things down nearly every day, often acting on my own while still following Sanei’s wishes.  I became cruel and awful because I was met with resistance that I will never understand, a complete reluctance to do the right thing.  It never occurs to me to not respect the wishes of someone who creates stuff for people for free on their own time.  Sanei wasn’t getting paid for this, Levi didn’t get paid to write Overgrowth and I sure as fuck didn’t get paid to write Unexpected or any of the NSFW and SFW stuff I wrote for Flowerfell.  This was all because we believed in the stories we were telling and wanted to share it with the world.

I realize now that some people are purely and irredeemably stupid.

To the blogs, the kin, the art and writing theives, the twitter accounts and the (always awful) writers who decided to continue what they are doing out of pure hate and spite and rubbing it in the face of the person who created what you are so greedily clinging to.  Your entitlement and sick and twisted ideas that these characters are your personality is what fucking ruined this.

Fuck you.

I will never wish death on another person, I am better than that.  However, I hope you feel a hurt and misfortune that will echo throughout your life until you rest miserably on your deathbed, alone.  You are scum and I will never respect you as a human being because you refuse to act like one.  I will continue to do all in my power to make your life miserable because I hate you.  It is well known that I have an endless capacity for love, but I can hate too.  
I hate how stupid and petty and childish you are.  While yes, there is no legal action that can be done, those who point that out are a special breed of stupid because duh.  We’re appealing to the humanity in you to take it down.  We’re not trolls, you are, ugly and disgusting beasts with no sense of good.  With the petty shit I’ve been seeing in the tag, lord I could vomit.

As someone who knows how it begins and how it ends.  You fucked up on seeing a beautiful story unfold.  Reevaluate yourselves and maybe you will get it in the future.

Grey days are strange. 

One thick and exhausting cloud blankets the sky as the morning struggles to heave herself out from the pits of deep slumber and wake. 

Gravel crunches as a weary soul drags himself out to his car because it’s Tuesday and he has work to do. 

The air is still and soft; a hazy breeze breathes sleepily through the burrow of lazy homes. 

A gentle dew has laid to rest over night, dampening grass and left over leaves from the trees that turned in for the winter. 

Everything is quiet and still; sleepy and hungover with the silly hope that maybe we can hibernate ‘til March when Spring will finally come with her healing hands to plant new flowers and a fresh sense of renewal. 

But for now, on this oscitant grey day, 

everything is January.

- k.c.

A Beseeching to My Gods

Sweet Boann, gentle mother,
Comfort our weary souls.
You who challenged and was swept away,
Share Your hard-won wisdom with us.
As You are in the raging of Your waters,
Let us rise, fierce and implacable.

Wise Dagda, strong and true,
Lead us in right action through what comes.
As Your Undry never runs dry,
May our hearts and spirits never fail.
Pluck Your harp, Uaithne, and lead the charge,
So we know when to fight and when stand ready.

Sister Brighid of hearth and healing,
Heal our hearts that we may welcome the needy.
Brighid of song and inspiration,
Light the fire within us and give us the words of change.
Brighid of the burning forge,
Shape us into the weapons to protect our brothers and sisters.

Beloved Manannan, protector of outcasts,
Shake out Your cloak over the vulnerable.
Lord Over the Waters,
Wash fear from us so that we can stand.
Clever Lord, God of the Westland,
Guide us. Protect us. Your will be done.

Mysterious Lir, loving father and ocean deep,
Teach us patience where we would be brash.
Dark God who boils and heaves,
Let our storm break over those who oppose us.
Constant Father who surrounds us all,
Let us be as the tide, and rise.

Sometimes I doubt.
Sometimes I am afraid.
Sometimes my soul is weary.
Sometimes I am tired.
Sometimes I am weak.
Sometimes I feel alone.
Sometimes I am angry.

When I immerse myself in the Word of God,
I receive joy,
And gladness,
And faith,
And courage,
And strength,
And hope,
And peace.

Some great and precious promises are being fulfilled in my life. Glory to God!

Only The Very Best

It’s been a most confusing ride
playing a game you couldn’t win
yet today is an unwritten page
you can choose to start again

Wishing vainly for days gone by
saying the bed’s already made
I wonder if it’s actually too late
or could it be you’re just afraid 

Overthinking forever worrying
it’s simple breathe try to smile 
soon the sun will shine again
sorrow is but for a little while

Let me hold your empty pain
may your weary soul find rest
I’ve no advice yet I do love you
and wish you only the very best  

Hush now, weary soul. It is time for you to lay your armor down and rest yourself in the arms of a good sleep. Worry no more. Dwell no more. For when the Sun rises again, it will all be a reset once more. You will have a new start, a whole new story to write.
—  Lukas W. // The reset

There’s room at the table.

There is room for burdened hearts and weary souls. There is room for scars from heavy battles and tired hands from working fingers to the bones. There’s room for sagging shoulders from carrying the sword too high for too long. There’s room for breaking, for grieving, and for bitter anger.
There’s room for rejoicing and praise. There’s room for excited chattering and clapping hands. There’s room for celebrations so mighty and so holy that it seems God ordaines them Himself. There’s room for hope and peace and love.

There’s room at the table… for all of it.
There’s room at the table… for all of us.

Grab a chair, find a place, share your story.
Break bread, shed tears, spill laughter.
Sit quietly, observing without much to say but a smile on your face.
Barge in, angry and afraid from years of trust being misplaced and broken.
There’s room for your story, there’s room for your tragedy, there’s room for your passion.

There’s a place here, just for you. Choose a mismatched chair, take a chipped plate, a bent fork… Come take a seat.
No one is going to be turned away in the house of the Father.
We’re so happy you’re here.

We were so excited to hear you were coming.
How have you been? Tell us everything… we have an entire eternity.

-31women (Ansley)


my head hurts
my stomach is empty
and soul is weary
but my feet carry on

i don’t know what the future holds
but i know who holds the future

God if this is some type of test,
let me pass with your blessing
if not then let me pass with your blessing
and you can explain your reasoning when i get home

Some charisk for your weary souls
  • Some charisk for your weary souls

The comic belongs to @milliecrepe ^^ 

Soo I collaborated with @thatoneflower! She’s lovely to work with and it was a ton of fun dubbing the comic with her :’D Her frisk voice is so adorbs ^u^ Go visit her blog and the comic artist’s blog! <3 

i think it’s brave

i think it’s brave that you get up in the morning even if your soul is weary and your bones ache for a rest

i think it’s brave that you keep on living
even if you don’t know how to anymore

i think it’s brave that you push away the waves rolling in every day 
and you decide to fight

i know there are days when you feel like giving up but
i think it’s brave
that you never do

—  i love you (to anyone who needs it), l. r. c.
Our Mother’s Gifts

Our Mother’s Gifts are frequently fleeting
most mercurial my dear friend at best
and only in the final moment of silence 
does a weary soul ever take its rest

Overflowing with fearful fitful dreams
children seek happiness at any cost
bearing the stains of worldly gains
was something far more precious lost

Game called on account of darkness
losers though none were keeping score
a tragedy because we may have won
had we but only loved a little more