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I tried so hard to draw closer to the Father, but He pushed me away so much.
I walked miles barefoot, feeling the grass, the reeds and the mud—the very things that make me who I am. With every step I felt—I felt the life that had passed over me; my fingers played with the dry brush, reminding me of the One who created it and created me.
Why did He do that?
My calluses hurt—they hurt because He allowed them to.
You were so good that You allowed me to feel almost like I was in the afterlife; my last breaths escaped my throat, which was squeezed by strong hands, sculpted by You.
Perhaps that was the way You connected with me—by allowing me to feel.
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this is how it feels to walk home from the only tobacco store in your village, which is 45 minutes away from you by walk (it's also summer btw) @tankhall
so this is a project i’ve been working on for about a month, just for fun ^
it’s what i imagine you’d find on old video cameras ethel + willoughby left behind in some dusty attic (perhaps in a house by the highway on the edge of town) and it would be discovered and developed years later
i used cal robertson as willoughby, because hayden has said willoughby resembles him, and i had plenty of footage to work with!!
i do not claim ownership of any of the footage! (except for the notebook clip, i made that myself) most of it is from ethel cain’s music videos & footage of cal robertson from various projects that he has been in
the clip of a house in nebraska is by @song-for-an-unborn-sun
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"I can wait if i want, but it'll never be good enough like i wanna believe it is."
Ever since I was 14, my biggest fear ever was losing my Willoughby. My Willoughby, who wasn't my man, just a father figure, a teacher, someone who my heart chosen as my guardian. I just started high school, no matter how wrong it was, no matter how guilty I felt for having such feelings, I was a 14 year old kid, I couldn't do any better. All these years, I completely wrapped my life around him. Always chasing his attention, chasing his company, feeling like nothing without him. He helped me at my worst, he left me at my worst, our "friendship" is really tragic one, I fear. Many ups and downs. Maybe I was too pushy? Maybe I shouldn't have write him letters? I was just grateful. I didn't wanna place burden on his shoulders. I didn't wanna force myself in his life.
But what if he also reaches out? What if instead of "giving me space" and "letting me figure out alone", he takes the chance to ask me if i'm alright? Not all the time, but maybe when he notices that I'm walking through the hall, at the edge of passing out. I'm not mad, dissapointed or angry. I'll never have the nerve to blame him, or be mad at him. He didn't hurt me. He wanted to help me, in his own ways. I had no right to ask for more, what he did to me was already more than what I deserve.
I'm 19. I wanna believe I changed, I wanna believe that I'm completely independent. People say I shouldn't blame myself for chasing something, that should be basic when a younger boy seeks for a guardian figure. The fact is... My father should've been the one who I ran to when things were falling apart, but he's the source of it all. He's dead to me. Forever.
I seek no relationships anymore. I seek no love, no father figure, no safe place, no person who feels like "home".
I don't know if I'll make it until 20, but if i won't, at least I can say I was right. Some people are just here. Not everybody contributes to this world, some people are just here, alive but not really living. Some people will never have anything, they just meant to be on their own. If it's my fate, than so be it. I don't wanna belong, if I have to fight for it. Maybe i'll get myself together, maybe i'll get worse. I have no control in this.
I'm currently just as confused and messed up, like this post. I have no idea what's happenning right now.
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