oversharing online is so important cus like what if someone needed to know that
Reblogging things I like feels a lot more goblinesque than upvoting ever did. The upvotes felt like "hmm yes, I approve *golf claps*" while reblogging feels like furtively staring at something before shoving it in your mouth and scurrying back underneath the nearest piece of furniture.
Which isn't to say that I don't like it. But I definitely find myself going "maybe I shouldn't reblog this because I've already reblogged a bunch of things today and I don't want to look like I don't have a life," I say as I close the app and reopen it like one of those little automatic box toys with the switches.
Can confirm. I've returned after almost a decade and the hoarding has begun anew.
I have a friend who has dated guys that only showered once a week but worked outside all day or in a factory all day (multiple guys with the same aversion to hygiene).
I don't know how she did it. I don't know how they did it. I get anxiety if I go now than 36 hours without.
Alice Walker, from “Even As I Hold You”, Her Blue Body Everything We Know: Earthling Poems 1965-1990
[text: Even as I hold you I think of you as someone gone far, far away.
Even as I hold you I am letting go.]
heartbreaking: none of artist's other songs are as much of a banger as the song I discovered the artist by
deadmau5 having that one song with gerard way, only I didn't know it was gerard way
She reads poetry as if kissing, and being kissed by, her lover, feeling the tender elocution of its caress.
Eyes hover over words of ink so true, her heart a gentle flutter as she is sent anew.
Surrendering to the scent of the pungently perfumed pages which her fingers skillfully part, she ascends the undulating currents into the poetic heights of her romantic skies.
But with a turn of that ivory page her eyes dim and salt takes up the space, for she has read the love stories but tragedy has arrived in its place. Bitter ends and saddened days all recounting with that gaze, a tenderness within her heart for all the pain and grieving art
The book now closed, lays silenced by her bed, those words of yesterday darkened upon pages now evermoistened by the tears spilled for an unrequited love. She extinguishes her bedside lamp. 
••••• ••••• ••••• ••••• •••••
A somewhat spontaneous collaboration between me and @27paperlilies (her words in bold italics). Thank you for a very enjoyable co-write. 🙏🏼😊
Your welcome! It was a pleasure to write with you 💜
Community Label: Mature
Don't read this if you have a soul.
Gurl, is your pussy the crew of the Oceangate sub? Because I wanna crush that.
I wanna spread you like a debris field on the ocean floor.
First, I'm going to spend three days giving you hope and building suspense, and when it finally happens it'll be over in an instant and no one will feel anything.
And just like that, half the world will be sad and disappointed while the other half will be openly mocking.
Community Label: Mature
The author has indicated this post may contain content that may not be suitable for all audiences.
"I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you everyday"
"... I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where once we were so close... I will love you until your face is fogged by distant memory. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, I will love you if you don't marry me. I will love you if you marry someone else and I will love you if you never marry at all, and spend your years wishing you had married me after all. That is how I will love you even as the world goes on its wicked way."
-Lemony Snicket
I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence and as justice loves to sit and watch everything go wrong.
-Lemony snicket
“For the kind of people who never connect, it can be devastating to feel attached to someone. You have no idea how it happened or why. You wake up one day and realize they are an extension of you. And all you feel is fear, 'cause you don't want to let them down or worst, smother with your care.”
The right person will know how to hold your love. The right person will choose you just as deeply as you choose them. You will not have to quiet the way you care, you will never feel like you are too much. You will not have to beg for the love you deserve. One day, you will be met where you are. One day, you will be someone's favorite thing, and you will not be confused — you will not feel like you are fighting for someone who isn't fighting for you. One day, you will understand that it never mattered how tightly you held on to the wrong people, how intensely you tried, because the right people were always going to find you. The right people were always going to stay.
Bianca Sparacino
Source: instagram.com
A new but surprisingly good friend suggested that I try journaling. I haven't done anything like it for a long time. While I'm not able to journal about the specific topics we discussed, I do have some depression to try and get out of my system.
There is someone in my life whom I love dearly. I constantly tell them to stop befriending and getting romantically involved with people who treat relationships as transactions.
Yet at the same time, when I've done so many things to try and help this person over more than a decade and yet am still their absolute lowest priority, I'm at a loss. I can't say "You owe me" because I would be a hypocrite. So all I can really do is exist and despair that I am not enough.
I wrote this evening, slapped it onto a picture, and now I'm sharing it. If anyone is interested in what I listened to while writing this, here you go: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JUPoUnqDArk
Text: I feel like If you do enough for someone Maybe, just maybe, you could become a priority to them.
But it never happens. Ever.
You give of yourself, your time, your strength, your blood, your flesh.
And they just Focus on someone else, something else, anything else.
You are always last.
I am always last.
I can't blame the people who have significant others and friends and families, where I have been a part of their lives for only a fraction of time. I don't blame them. They are not the ones I'm talking about.
I'm talking about the people that have been supported and carried and loved through their worst days and darkest hours and deepest nightmares who prioritize abusers and users and allow those people to monopolize their time.
It hurts. It is a deep scathing phyisical pain that can not be easily borne. It cuts and it burns and it reminds us of loss and suffering that we've experienced on behalf of someone else who has forgotten us.
I keep seeing a two-sentence quote, but I only felt the last part. So I threw this together.
I was so optimistic when I was younger. I wish I was not. I feel like I'd be in a much better place were I prepared for reality.
But at the same time, I desperately miss the feeling of optimism.
Background generated by Light&Shadow Diffusion via the ImageCreator plugin in Photoshop. Prompt was positive "A dystopian future cityscape".