woven into willow fronds

it's okay, he will return next spring 🌱

But you stand at attention like a soldier; arms rigid, back straight, eyes level, you stand up because you have to! There's boulders to push up mountains don't you know? One must imagine Sisyphus as a completely different person than the one he was: he's happy and he's innocent and he's needlessly suffering and hes happy- Sisyphus was not a military man. His back arches into the exertion. You know you don't have to push the rock, right? You can let it sit at the bottom for a while, but your eyes keep flicking over in it's direction, your hand goes to the cursed amulet in your pocket, your retinas start to burn with the imprint of light from your cursed amulet, it's cause you're always on that damn cursed amulet-

Rest equals lying down, eyes closed,

But you're always lying there, aren't you? Limbs heavy with lethargy like a statue that was carved laying down, a buzz in your ears and a helplessness on your tongue. There is an observed set of behaviours that happens when you get sick, your brain makes you feel bad on purpose to keep you still, diverting power to attacking pathogens. You have to just lie here silently attacking pathogens. How much of the war is fought by waiting? You're sick and tired of being sick and tired, you're sick of lying in wait, you're sick and you're sick and you can't stop being sick, you're hiding your bite wound under your jacket in the zombie apocalypse. It's only a matter of time until they discard you, for the crime of just hoping for five more minutes, borrowing hours from the future for a few more seconds of laughter until the void comes crashing in-

Rest equals lying down, eyes closed,

So you keep them squeezed shut in fear, always groping blindly in the dark, hitting your hands on table edges, whacking too hard on popcorn ceilings, scraping your toes on the floor of the swimming pool. Do you ever think to stop flailing? Still limbs don't get shredded to ribbons, you see, and you used to win every game of sleeping lions, you used to hold your breath underwater, you used to win every game of hide and seek, stuffing yourself into a crevice and being forgotten there, you're the remote down between couch cushions, you're the strong swimmer drowning in the kiddie pool. To hold still is to be held at gunpoint; you can't stop moving or you'll be left behind.

Rest equals lying down, eyes closed.

You fall asleep on park benches. You fall asleep on cool smooth concrete floors. You fall asleep in the backseat of a moving car. You fall asleep in this half-hearted way, you hate committing to anything, even if it would be the greatest relief. Sleepily listening to the adults have conversation, memorising every mundane word, determined to make enough of a show that they carry you in to bed from the car. You want someone else to pick up the slack tonight, you want someone to put effort in for you, To carry you across the river. A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asks a frog to carry it across the river, She wants someone to put effort in for her and is that really so much to ask? The frog shows mercy to the scorpion, and for once her exoskeleton feels soft, would your stinger become blunt if you had no need of it for long enough? I wouldn't kill you halfway across the water, and I promise it's not only because I would die too, but sometimes I catch myself thinking, that wouldn't that just be putting us both out of our misery?

Rest equals mc squared.

Something for Moomin Day :-)

comet in moominland 1946

hes living in my head rent free today so i drew him