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@feralmoth
welcome to moth's musings
they/them. not a minor. everything not cited is my own, please do not repost. I post whatever I'm feeling.
#visceral - serious writing
#my silly little brain - shitposting/random
DMs/asks are open if you wanna chat.
hope u enjoy, love u. ♡
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writing for the sake of writing in my little notebook all of my thoughts and feelings and questions. I think that's what God is. the catharsis of translating reality and unreality into common language is a divine experience.
and so what if I have a thing for priests!!!
I love my mother so much I could literally cry endlessly about how much she means to me but I know she would tell me not to cry for her sake I am so grateful for her
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And I felt it welling up days, weeks in advance. My mother caught my eye for the hundredth time at the dinner table, asking for reassurance. Reassurance that we both notice him and his inconsistencies. The self-isolation, the self-pity, the anger, the immaturity, the refusal to speak or touch. My father, her husband, has been a stranger every other day for the past 20 years. The unpredictability is agonizing. She sat me down, told me I can't please him no matter what I do. All I need to do is worry about myself. She said, "Do what you want to do. You have to do what makes you feel fulfilled." It's jarring to be told by your mother that your father has been wrong this whole time, pushing me into things I never wanted, telling me I'm always falling behind and not doing enough. My mother is my North star. I am so lucky, even if my father will never understand. God bless my mother, I owe her everything, I am so grateful, I love her.
Listening to Wet's discography while my sinuses drain and I'm slightly cold but not cold enough to put my blanket on. I feel so beautiful and peaceful.
Sometimes I forget for a while but I always always remember. She comes back to me in the dead of night dragging herself barefoot through the muck and leaves. I see her eyes shining as the moonlight hits them, I see her intention in them. She will make me understand if it brings me an inch from death. This is what it means to be alive, to have purpose, to be a woman, to exist here in this world. I praise her in my solitude. I have felt her in songs, books, films, people, trees, animals. I think god is a woman who will push you to your limits, will show you the ugliest truths, will hold you when you think you cannot go on, and will not rest until you have made peace with yourself and the world. She is a feral, wise god.
"Why do you lie so much? And about the weirdest little things? my mother always asked me.
I don't know, I always said. But I did know. It was very simple. Because it was a better story."
// Bunny by Mona Awad
issy wood makes music for bitches with a deeply earnest obsession with fleabag I don't make the rules
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Been crying a lot again recently
Fleabag makes me cry once an episode but it makes me laugh just as much
I feel like I'm rotting in my core
I can't keep the facade of contentedness up when I'm with family
I can grip it for a few seconds, but it slips and suddenly I'm sitting in my own void within the warmly lit kitchen
I wish I understand why we do what we do, what do they feel when they talk about their lives to each other?
I'm lost in my own fucking mind again just waiting for a script to flow out of me
I still think my friends don't like me even though it's been two months since my breakdown
I feel alone, but I don't feel the crushing weight of loneliness like I used to, more just a general disappointment
What glory to share moments of joy with strangers you choose to love
I have felt that. It seems occasional, fleeting, and that they never give it as much meaning as I attach to it.
I don't know what that is. I don't why I feel at fault for my feelings.
Sometimes I catch myself in my own self flagellations
I feel the highest when I realize I've broken something so complex and delicate
And nothing tops the feeling of being caught in my carelessness
I call it carelessness but I subconsciously secretly beg to left in the dust every time
I feel like I'm getting away with a crime when I realize I've broken another person
But it's a rush unlike any other, maybe I can teach myself to settle down someday
My coworker tells me that I'm far too agreeable, I can mold myself into whatever anyone likes
I think he's right, I feel liquid and ready to sink into the deepest most sacred and unexplored crevices of existence
I like diving into minds. I don't know if I like love.
I know my periods almost here when I start tearing up every time I see a cat. They are just little babies that deserve everything good in the world I am at a loss I simply cannot look at a cat without crying helmp pleasee
lyrics to "Thumbs" by Lucy Dacus
myself
@/emi.ly.lissy on tiktok
post from @mothercain-deactivated20231124
post from @mothercain-deactivated20231124
myself
@/dankzell on instagram
"Now that I'd lost this much, I realized to not care wasn't to save yourself at all. It was only another loss."
// Strange as This Weather Has Been by Ann Pancake
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I take every word as pure gospel
I drink in the syllables, the phonetics, the anatomy of the lines, fitting them inside of my mouth
Tasting and letting them sit on my tongue and molars, never biting down
Since I was small I prepared myself in this way, a sacred routine, collecting words and sampling them, then never letting them slip my mind
I learned how to be elegant, slithering, cunning, alone, lovesick, and agonizing
My saviors were always a council of depressed women, strung out and always searching for a sign
I'll still love them till the end of days, following them over the cliff's edge if it came down to it
You ruined deftones for me, not that they were meant for a 20 something girl
Some things stop me dead in my tracks and all I see is your hair and your walk
I wanna kill you and leave you in the dead of winter, pool of blood soaking in the snow
Can't enjoy orgasms half the time cause my mind drifts back to you
I left you for countless reasons, you're just so fucking aimless but you're a hot white man so what does it matter?
I've talked with your ex for hours, we agree on some things, but most of all we agree that it wasn't as devastating to us.
You cried and gasped and gritted your teeth and glared daggers at me
You cut me all the way out of your life minutes after the final call
That's fine. I just hate that I think about you as much as I do. I don't want you and I don't want anything you've touched.