swheeley

*covered in blood* i will.... *trembling* CHOOSE TO BE KIND... *in pain* i will be... NICE to others... *wanting to kill* i will see good in EVERYONE *yelding a knife* i will NOT be like those who hurt me... *screaming* i will be BETTER than who i was...

no dude it's so cool how attached you are to that character who is singled out and ostracized due to the external monstrousness that clashes with their internal spark of humanity. and i love how drawn you are to themes of horror and love, nature versus nurture, otherness, isolation, and the abject. i bet you have normal feelings about your own personhood

the knight and the moth said that belief can cradle you even as it strangles you. that holy water drowns and corrupts as easily as it cleanses. that the cathedral’s beauty is built on blood, bone, and fear. that vows mean nothing when wielded as chains. that the truest knightly virtue is the refusal to kneel to corruption; that honor is not found in obedience, but defiance. that both moth and man will burn themselves on false light because the darkness is unbearable. that salvation may come from the hands of the damned. that freedom can feel like heresy. that naming yourself is the loudest prayer you will ever speak. that the only divinity worth worshiping is love itself.

art will save you, being unreasonably passionate about something niche will save you, letting past sources of joy show you the way back to yourself will save you, earnestness over composure will save you, the natural world will save you, caring for something bigger than yourself will save you, daring to be seen will save you, kindness not as a whim but a principle will save you, appreciation as a practice will save you, daring to try something new will save you, grounding will save you, love will save you, one good nights sleep will save you

i am only here to fill rooms, and seats, and light the walls with laughter. i’m here to smile in photographs, to give lavish gifts, and to exchange impersonal greetings. i sit in subways, order meals and eavesdrop conversations. i am an audience, i am a friend. i listen to problems, solve fights. i create chaos and give away compliments. i look. i am let into rooms but not given a key. i am welcomed to holidays but pay my own fee. i smile. i entertain. i hug. and at the end of the day i join my four walls and wait for the morning to take away one more piece. congratulations on your weddings.

“you‘re so quiet” baby i’m not even here. i’m fantasizing about a book i read weeks ago. move on.

“got snap?” i have an address where you can send me roses and love letters mf act grown

blasting my silly little music and creating my silly little daydreams so i don’t lose my silly little mind

I read. Obsessively. Because, when I read, there is purpose to my loneliness.

the idea of bacchanals and revenge and blood and sisterhood and analyzing literature while drinking some baileys and losing a little bit of control while we reenact Shakespeare and showing our outfits to the ghost of Oscar Wilde and believing Donna Tartt would absolutely adore us and just autumn