Starvation Of Equanimity

they need to come up with more words like necrosis and miasma and mausoleum and cadaver and morose and decrepit and stuff like that just so metal bands can expand their vocabulary

Kay Redfield Jamison, An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness

Rumi

I pay attention now

When my words are ignored

When my energy is unmatched

When my passions are overlooked

And I make a note of it all

Because I no longer have the time

To walk down dead end roads

Hoping

Waiting

Anticipating

No matter how mesmerizing the fire may be

I’m just not interested in gifting my energy that way

Not anymore

Not for anyone

Not even you

It happens so slowly

A slammed door here

Another bruise there

And before you know it

Your once open heart

Is closed off to the world

Locked up with a key

You never even knew existed

Turning you into

A tattooed soul

With nightmare ink

Searching for a reason

To still believe

And then there was you.

sorry i found this on twitter and its taking me out the placebo gazebo

We need to go back to using sailing ships full time like immediately. Yes it would take longer to get places but the Aesthetic is unmatched

Like there is nothing sexier hthan this

that onion headline that's like "whatever. the emo kids are all sitting on each other's lap" is their realest one yet

Lev St. Valentine

I don't care if no new shows come out for 2 years, the sheer amount of media that exists couldn't be watched in a million years. Go back and watch old movies and shows, YouTube videos, documentaries, read a book. Anyone acting like this writers strike is less important than their entertainment, you aren't a leftist or an ally to the working class, you're a spoiled bougie brat

and sometimes the hatred for myself burns brighter than what i was created from,

to say that it was dust would be kindness,

to say that it was legacy, would be an abomination,

i am neither here, nor there,

i fidget and forget,

to breathe, to regret,

the monster is an insatiable hole,

it takes and takes, until,

there is nothing left,

i, was made from nothing, belong nowhere, and will merge with the black earth,

eyes closed and with a flame in my heart.

in conversation about white people who go to Japan and expect their knowledge of anime to culturally carry them, I was once posed with “it’s like if there was a Japanese guy who was obsessed with spongebob and came over here and thought he could get by just communicating in spongebob quotes.” This is a false equivalence because if such a man existed we would crown him king. We’d love him. Americans would fucking love that. sometimes I get sad that this isn’t a real guy I can invite to a party.

It’s not that I think I deserve to be loved it’s just I sort of miss being able to believe that I was loveable. I picture myself as the stray dog in the shelter cage. I stare at the strangers passing by while I cower in the corner silently begging as I tuck my tail, praying, they’ll look past the sign that says I bite. With the right hands I could learn to be a lap dog, I would never growl again. Pet me softly so that I may rest at your feet and guard your heart. Give me a home so I no longer feel the wild urge to chase the innocent rabbits. It’s not that I think I deserve love, it’s just I miss how loved I was before being trained to bite-before I was a stray.