Cosmic Funnies
AnasAbdin
Game of Thrones Daily
Cosimo Galluzzi
KIROKAZE
dirt enthusiast
Three Goblin Art
h
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Love Begins
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
ojovivo
oozey mess
Show & Tell
roma★
taylor price
Not today Justin
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from Australia
seen from North Macedonia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Denmark
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Denmark
seen from United States
seen from Denmark
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from North Macedonia
@delicateslou
🫧 hi! my name is Milu, thank you for reading me!
my whole name is Milagros, i'm 23 and i love reading and writing. i'm a translator student and i'd love to be a published writer in the future.
if you like what you read, or you want to make nice suggestions for me to improve, you can help me liking, sharing and commenting or even dming me! i would appreciate it so much. also, i'm open to collaborations so feel free to ask me.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
the sky seemed so far away
at night, everyone resting, everyone full, everyone warm
i wonder where are you, don't care about anyone else
i keep pacing through the endless streets and the empty grawl of my stomach is the only reminder that i'm still here
painfully alive
i wished for you to see me
like a nocturn bird soaring and eclipsing the stars
but i wouldn't be this, then
i wouldn't ever be here
in the longest of paths life could ever have brought me
somehow, i ended up here
still, beside you
i've got the itch to write you since my birthday. none of this is probably for the best, and my head feels like a massive hive buzzing everywhere and people turn around to find out where is that noise coming from. but i vomited it out.
the words. i felt them in my throat in the middle of my lesson and the bells were about to ring and i had to. i had to say them. maybe the restraining i felt – i feel it's because i should tell them to you but it feels like from outer space, not of this world, how you slided into my dms.
i wish – again, i don't have any grip of my life. i guess i always get people to handle my decisions instead of grabbing the moment, but i can't risk anything for a simple greeting. thank you, though. you are in my mind, usually. not always, just in the back where i know you're there – i just don't deal with it.
let me know, you, who know exactly what you're doing, who know me before anything, should i ask you then? should i resume dreaming in my head?
i'm so influenceable, and so immature, and so settled down on being comfortable. will i feel like this all my life? like i need some ‘holding onto’? like i'm somehow missing out?
everywhere i am it just feels noisy. i can't escape the hordes of people just in my room, the blinding lights, your voice. i don't know when it all became so strange and not part of me, but i hate the feeling you're becoming someone else i didn't signed up to.
i want to try harder, not run away so easily because what if i'm wrong? what if it's a pity after all. all these years, and it's up to me? god. no, i don't want to break what costs me so much to build in the first place.
i sacrificed so much, my inner peace, my lonely, my studies, my time. you didn't even ask for it but i did and it hurts. and i don't want to give up.
but i miss you, the other you that used to be around and brought coffee for me into bed, and made sure i was wrapped to the head before sitting in the desk, and used to comfort me when i felt like crying - now i just feel badly drained. i don't know how to help you and it's all sleeping through you and i can see it, how do i turn this about you, not about me? - there again with my selfish rants.
because it's you who's obviously struggling, you're not sad, you're not mad, you're just not - you're not anywhere - you're absent. i wish i could bring you back with a blow like i've seen in that fairy movie from when i was a little girl.
seagulls in the sky as the sun draws its rays in the early morning
tilting my head, i look up, and smile
it's like i'm constantly being caught off guard by life
i've dreamed about this, you
i have seen it
when i used to fall asleep wishing you were beside me
it's a constant déjà vu, replaying in my head over and over again
i open my eyes, the sun swerving in my pupils
i've belonged here even if i've never stopped by before
the salty air, the hair sticking to my face
giggles, and i watched them straight out of a movie scene
how the moments intertwine in the air,
your smiles and glittering glasses,
my rants and timeless yearning,
how you're so far away and so close
at the same time
these dramatics scenes
i've lived them before
i only ever pictured
you
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
something new has been flourishing, down here something grew and made its way to the top, i can finally see some rays of sunshine, when i open the door and there you are.
i have fallen in love before when he was sitting beside me and i couldn't get myself to look into his eyes without my sight blurring, but nothing compares to this.
it's not the smiles or the nothing in between us, it's how i feel just stepping outside and daring myself to be more and somehow better just for you. it's not like i need the validation, instead i need to be different things for different people too, not just me or him.
these weeks i've been only imagining how would it be to even ponder the idea of leaving him. it's just—these thoughts took over my head, and i tried to put them aside and ignore them but some days they're louder. but, what if i do? i mean, it'll definitely break me. i just got possessed over this idea of losing myself in this relationship.
i love him, and he never ask or even manipulates his way into making me feel like i need to sacrifice stuff or goals over him, but what if i just did it all this time as a reflex? what if that's the crisis i'm having all the time—like a recurrent epiphany.
we talked the other day about a small domestic disagreement and i realized that's who he is—he will always try and fix stuff and he will always try and be mature about it considering me and my feelings and what's important: he will always try.
i've put these barriers in my mind and i've been silent but i needed it, for myself, for him. i don't need to discuss my thoughts all the time, i don't need to depend this much, i can be—and i am my own person.
my girlfriends gave me that lucidity back without even knowing it.
ephemeral
you've built your life again
with your plants and your flowers blooming every spring,
and forming new shade's patterns with the trees you germinated.
i got stuck.
thinking about my backyard again and again,
and everytime i left, i'd come back to something new.
a new ceiling, a new person, a new conversation to have, a new pet
nothing ever felt the same for me, but i still hoped to come back to my backyard.
the one i left that early evening i had to pack up my notebooks and leave, because i had no choice.
and then i wished.
i wished I would've been a tree, so then i would've grounded my roots to the ground and don't miss a single thing,
don't miss a single change,
don't miss.
don't miss this–right here.
i wouldn't miss running in the fields, riding my bike to the sunset, reading, writing scenary poetry.
i would just live right here.
i would write right here, i would dream right here, climb this tree, marry our neighbour. i would've been happy, ignorant, tiny, and oh, so happy.
I've learnt so much and known too many people, even though I'm shy and barely leave my house. but none of them–none of it ever fazed me like this place has. like this house has, this backyard, these trees, this air, this nightsky, this dog, this home.
i've read the word ephemeral in a bookmark i got on some fair, and i stuck with it.
i've always known the meaning, I've known the sound and the pronunciation running in my tongue.
but right now, it's the first time i have ever felt it. truly felt it and understood it.
a moment it's not just ephemeral because of time, just because you grow up and leave memories behind.
a moment is ephemeral because the beings you've shared it with, are gone. and someday, they'll all be gone. and when people are gone, the moments and who you were in that time at that context, is also gone with them. it only lives in you–nowhere else.
so you carry it on your back and you cry silently at night but you know; physically there's no other place these moments can be.
these people around you, they've never truly known you, not like you know they had. so when you pack up your things to come back, you get near, and you know the puzzle pieces come together inside just because here is where you belong. where you've always belonged and where you'll always belong.
and somehow, someday, you just have to share this feeling with someone.
August 11th 2025
a tale
i have you by my side
sleeping as you don't mind,
but it's because you don't know.
the anxiety of letting you go
filled up my night,
i couldn't sleep well,
sometimes i couldn't breathe,
sometimes i just wanted to cry.
and i don't know how to be indifferent
because he is still outside
and maybe my friend was right,
when she told me i should speak up.
but it's so hard for me
to even get the words out
in front of you.
i miss the way it used to be
but i don't miss being apart from you,
and i don't want to sabotage myself
into a past i didn't even like.
but damn, it was so easy back then.
now i worry all the time,
if i let my thoughts flow into my mind
i'll end up crying.
and if i try to fix things,
people get to hurt me
over and over again.
i just want to be honest,
vulnerable,
the truest i've ever been.
but i don't want to give up with any of this.
i am so afraid of you leaving me
just like they did.
i am so afraid of never be able
to get the words out.
i am afraid of the future sometimes,
will i achieve everything i want?
i want to stop writing but i can't
it feels like there's so many things
i keep away from you.
but you are here,
i just don't know how to feel
like this is enough,
when people i try to hate everyday
are outside living their lives.
and i am here,
trying to tell you as if it was a kind of tale
how bad it feels, even in my dreams.
i feel like everytime i can tell you
i'll ruin something of us
like you cooking in my kitchen,
or our lonely moments,
or our good mornings,
the heavy blue of our nights,
the love words you always say to me,
and your eyes.
as if they won't flicker that way again
when they're looking at me
and you know what i did.
8 may 2022
there's people landing on the moon
and i'm just down here
drowning in your eyes,
while they don't even look for me
the house is noisy all because of you
and i hate to be so disturbed i don't even hear my own thoughts anymore
these things tire me out
these things drain me out
i come home to you cooking something
i'm always the one you're waiting for,
not the other way around,
but there's something in the air and you don't even talk to me
i need the attention i need the eyes on me i need the need of you of me
i want you to be here for me and i want to talk
only talk
right now I'm so tired and i can't even try to fall asleep because i know i won't
because of you
it's fucking disgusting
how i can't even hear your voice because I'm annoyed at every single thing you do
you drain me out.
everyone says "oh repair in a relationship might be difficult but it will feel good after it's done."
but you weren't raised in a safe house. like generational wealth, it just skipped you. neither of your parents really know how to apologize or to talk to you with peace in their hearts. at sixteen, just once, you'd written down a little speech and tried to give it to your mom: hey i don't like it when you comment about my body and she'd given you this strange look, almost alien, and you'd felt stupid and small, then. and your father? fuck no. many years later you'd describe it to your therapist: in my house we just pretended like nothing had happened. like, overnight: all the pain was gone.
and since you weren't raised right, you struggled in school, too, didn't you. you struggled making friends because the architecture of appropriate behavior blindsided you. you weren't cruel - but you obviously seemed off to the other kids, strange in a way that was somehow always abrasive. and in that state - unhappy at home, unhappy during the school day - you would have given anything to have been loved. any person and any context.
so it's fine when your friend is a little pushy or mean or controlling. sure, she keeps you up late with threats of suicide but tells you never to call an ambulance. sure, he constantly pressures you for sex. sure, they are overly clingy one day just to disappear the next. all of them are still your friend, which is new. you don't understand this idea on the internet that you could just "cut people out" if they don't "serve" you. if you cut out the people in your life who take from you; you would have nothing and no one. maybe the people who can exile others just have more to choose from. maybe they had good parents. maybe they just have had an easier life, and have never needed someone.
not that you need people (you do. it makes you sick how badly you need people to like you), you rarely ask for more, don't you. so when you finally get into a relationship - well; now you're really chosen. and what's more, they make you feel wanted. even if it's just for a fraction of a second, you get to say: this is my person. holy shit.
nobody is perfect. hell, you're not perfect either. and how many times do you hear the words relationships take work. it's work but it's worth it. your hands shaking on the steering wheel. you have tried podcasts and audiobooks and self-healing and (in utter desperation) even a chatbot (it was a bad night. inside of the yelling, you'd thought: this is just the normal shape of my life). and the thing is that you want to give people grace. you want them to feel like you don't take everything personally. maybe that's why you're terrified to set a boundary.
and everywhere the positivity like an earthquake at your feet. all of this should feel like healing! you should practice gratitude! repair will feel good, right? it will feel good, eventually. the problem is probably you, actually: maybe you are just bad at it. you need to control your emotions more, you're always lashing out at the wrong things. some part of you is still sixteen, writing a dramatic letter to your mother. some part of you is still hiding from your father.
it must be like how they name mascara better than sex, then. repair is something you can buy lessons for; it is likely that repair doesn't really feel good - you're just being marketed to. the people who are able to have hard conversations and actually feel good: those are also people who have that generational wealth where their parents are normal or even kind and their friends were supportive and gentle and their partners never raised their voice. it feels good to them, but you probably will never feel safe enough for it, how could you.
but then you meet her, and she hurts you by accident. shaking, you bring up your handwritten bulleted list of things you have condensed into the smallest, gentlest packet of information. you have codified it into the perfect therapy speak. you have practiced it for three days, trying to make sure it is the best and least offensive version of things.
and she just... accepts it. and holds your hand. and asks you gentle questions about everything. she apologizes immediately. there's no fight, no yelling. you walk away feeling - good. it feels good to be cared for, it feels good to be seen.
the problem is that it has now thrown everything else into a terrible kind of relief. because this entire time - this entire life - it could have actually been that fucking easy.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Hello fellow writer nerds!
My page consists pretty much entirely of poetry, but this is important:
I got scammed. And I want to prevent the same thing from happening to you.
This artist, @canvasalchemy, reached out and asked me to write a poem to accompany a sketch he was doing for a commission. I did, and he told me I would receive 30% of the fee.
I was emailed an e-check for $500 from Sarah Allison Hughes at [email protected]. He told me his deposit balance was met, and asked if the whole fee could just be sent to me.
I thought I was so careful. I made sure the check cleared and deposited before sending his portion through Zelle.
I was not careful enough. They altered the check after I sent the money. This is a phishing scam. I've reported the artist, but there's nothing more I can do except let you all know.
Be careful, please. It's so easy to think "I'd never get caught by something like this" until it happens.
Thank you for listening. Thank you for sharing your art, too.
They were going by canvasalchemy, now @/velvetgild (which I saw just before blocking them)- The @ they included will still go to the correct blog, however. Thanks to this person, I managed to not get caught, but they’re still up to this same stunt. My artist friend thought it looked real enough upon initial inspection, but I was still feeling unsettled and so searched up their handle at the time and I’m so glad I did. I know I said it once already, but thank you again hummingbee-lievable!
To everyone else- Be warned.
Nick Lewis @ornatebrush messaged me to commission a poem. We agreed terms, I wrote the poem, then revised it as requested over a couple of days, and sent it to him. Now he's either deleted his account or blocked me, I assume to avoid making payment.
I don't really mind writing poems for free, it's what I do anyway, but I was going to put the payment towards my friend's gofundme
I'm posting this publicly because I know he messaged other writers, and it's possible he'll try it again.
Here's the poem:
Shores stretch so far,
as far as imagination roams,
hours of sand before us.
Sunshine smiles over open horizon,
gulls cries fly away free
on the same soft breeze that tousles your hair.
Waves run hand in hand through surf
whispering bliss of distant shores to listening seashells,
later to be held to your ear, hear oceans laugh
and lap at land with salt tongues of sea foam.
Tides wash away our footprints,
precious memories we made remain
to be carried gently home.
the smallest room in the house was the only place where i fit.
i can't sleep as i used to anymore. there's memories and weird sounds and voices and faces haunting my dreams.
i'm in the bathroom floor and i remember when i was younger and i used to sat in here because it was the smallest room in the house, and then i would feel like being alone wasn't so weird as in the other rooms because not everyone would fit in here. and then i would cry until i felt there wasn't any more tears.
since then, i believe i grew up too fast, i didn't enjoy what most friends my age would, and i feel like i lost part of me wasted only by myself, i couldn't share my parts with anyone.
i guess, that's the reason it is hard for me to make some time for my family through the month. sometimes i let myself believe they don't really need me, or want me, or miss me. that there's not really a spot i could fill in their houses anymore.
i don't belong there. after all, i grew up in my bathroom floor.
I never meant something to you, but I started writing you anyways. I wanted you to find out. But only you, not your foolish friends, or your stupid girl. With who, of course, nothing ever worked out. What a surprise!
And it's been years, but today I felt the itch to write to you. How's it been? I guess, you've rebuilded everything and got it right. Sometimes I find myself —badly— wishing it was you. But I didn't wish it until I saw you at work a couple of weeks ago. Again.
I just have that tendency to wonder what would've happened. I guess we never would've happened still, because nothing ever happened between us. Except maybe, some misunderstandings.
But I used to wish it, to wish you, to dream of you. At night I would write of my feelings, I would make up a world were we liked each other.
I guess all this time the foolish was me. My feelings turned to dust one day, and I could never knew what I'd like anymore. I just wanted safe. I just wanted not to be alone. I just wanted to run.
I'm not saying I wouldn't have chosen him if that didn't happen, but I guess it would've been, or felt better for him, for me to be known not as fragile. I clung to him, I let myself disappear, I didn't think about it twice. And I was so in love then, now, I just love him by default.
For the remaining of emotions he once brought to me at my lowest. Not news for the actual time. I don't know what to do, how to feel, how to repair the damage. I don't know how to feel like before, but better. I just know how to cling to those emotions I felt once.
I guess, I've been lying to myself all this time.
I guess, I should've tried to write and let my hand slip my words out, for these words I write are the true of my heart. And I've been avoiding this, trying to not look like an idiot, immature, heartless.
i'm trying to drown it
the sick feeling in my stomach and the idea that
maybe, it'll feel better after
like i deserve it, even if it's horrible.
listen to your head, reason
have some self respect
but everywhere i look there's the same words written on people's faces
i shouldn't be made like this.
i changed so much, only because everything went backwards
i tried to heal and i'm now on the other side
looking at my hands and wondering what i've done all this time
to deserve feeling like shit again
and it's worse
before i was starving and now i can't go back
i can't take up the words and feelings i've bottled up.
let me help you. let him help you.
but the thoughts are there and i can't turn off my head.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I'm standing over a pile of random memories of my childhood.
i feel kinda free, when i look at my hands when i notice the scars, the rainbows, the butterflies.
i used to know what it all meant to hide away, tell secrets, everything was an adventure.
i remember the feeling not only blooming in my chest—there's still a physical reaction.
when we got together, kissed for the first time, run for the fun of the ride, played with tiny dinosaurs.
i still like the triceratops since then, the lilac and yellow of the sky, the medlars falling from the tree and melting in my tongue, the sweet of the tomorrow to come.
God, I feel so nostalgic these days.
and i miss you and i miss it too, but i feel it like i felt it then—in my chest, in my stomach, the curly sensation, the touch of your sweaty hand, your hair sticking to your forehead, your ball full of mud, the cold of the goal when i stood there watching you aim it.
man, i miss you now, even though it was a brief moment, even though you're not here still, i wish i'd stay with something.
i wish i kept your promises tied with a red bow to my heart, i wish the conversation would led somewhere real, and i got something to take with me there—i wish i didn't dream it all, there again, by your side, in your trunk, in your yard, in your little swing.
tantrums and tears and closed stomachs and my voice went silent and mute, and i want to have known better—i want to have had some control, some vote, a little bit of grip.
i see it all passing now in my eyes and i'm not full of regrets i've lived so happily and made some good real friends and had the time of my life, but sometimes i just roll around and wonder what if you would've been there all along too?
would i have keep growing? or would you have held me down? i keep asking and asking and then i stop.
i look around. nothing is the same anymore. i'm standing over a pile of random memories of my childhood and i don't know what to do with so many loose ends. and i wonder if i should leave them all open like a wound that never scars, or if i should've let them die by now? i just feel, they never ended with me, in here.
i'm still here.
