#abh.

hi i’m ally & i’m everyone’s big cool mom.

fighter hye vs. shy mun hehe 

tagged by: no one- it seemed fun

tagged by: @kur88

tagging: @epigrvm @inwolvesteeth @oedvpus @jinvory @ivnsng

  COLOUR QUIZ!!

you are purple #800080

Send me "black bird" for a darker memory of my muse's past.

shut up, shut up, shut up! hyejung couldn’t even tell if she was yelling that at herself, or if her father was drunk yet again and was putting all of his frustration onto her mother. she didn’t deserve it-- as in her mother didn’t deserve the s!&* that’s taken from her father. it was absolutely horrible and terrifying for someone of hyejung’s age to even experience. there’s poundings on the walls now, they were very thin and then another voice enters the other room. hyejung is huddled up against the wall where her bed is, eyes wide open with her arms wrapped around her knees. go away, go away. please. her eyelids slip to a close, a single tear slides down her chin and down onto her clothes. bringing her knees closer to her chest, she mumbles to herself to try to get rid of the yelling.

it didn’t work.

she could tell that her brother was now involved, since there was not only one but two male voices yelling at the same time. hyejung couldn’t hear her voice anymore, and it scared her. she felt as if the lines on her forehead got deeper from furrowing her eyebrows, was her mother okay? was her brother okay? don’t even mention her father, because he’s the sole reason why they want to get away. they want to run away, they want to flee. she was only six, her family wasn’t meant to be broken. no, they were fine when they were out in the public. but behind closed doors came flying fists and words so cruel that it would make one feel as tiny as the ants that they stepped on. hyejung sniffles, her door slams open and she sees her father raise up an arm that contained a half-empty beer bottle. 

it all happened so fast.

first hyejung’s crying and the next she’s screaming, yelling, begging for help. the sheets get tangled under her legs as she’s desperately trying to get out of his grip. this wasn’t what she wanted, this wasn’t what she expected. they were fine, they were fine if he was sober. her father had a split personality once he was drunk. he became a stranger-- someone hyejung didn’t recognize at all. the soft gaze in his eyes would harden up an his lips would not kiss her forehead but instead spit out the most vile words to break the girl down. six, only six. she wasn’t meant to be here nor was the rest of her family.

her father could burn in hell.

BOLD ANY WHICH APPLY TO YOUR MUSE. ITALICIZE WHAT THEY LIKE. REMEMBER TO REPOST & NOT REBLOG. FEEL FREE TO ADD TO THE LIST!

fire. ice. water. air. earth. claws. fangs. wings. gold. diamonds. grass. leaves. trees. roses. metal. iron. rust. rain. snow. lace. silk. cotton. sun. moon. stars. blood. dirt. mud. silver. steel. sugar. salt. lavender. glass. wood. paper. wool. fur. smoke. ash. ocean. bruise. scar. wind. spices. light. dark. paint. charcoal. wine. hard liquor. sweat. dust. bare feet. canine. feline. coffee. tea. books. scratches. petals. thorns. hay. glitter .heat. cold. steam. frost. candle. sword. spear. dagger. staff. arrow. hammer. shield. spikes. sand. rocks. roots. feathers. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. herbs.waves. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. clay. stone. brick. lions. wolves.

tagged by: @ahyngkm 💫

tagging: @inwolvesteeth @jinvory @geuyi @daiiyu

REVERENCE

One part of you dreams of giving yourself up – perhaps just for a while – to a hero or mentor. In the right circumstances you can flourish by letting go of your ego. In your inner life, reverence plays out as a willing submission to your own conscience. In the outside world, you might get frustrated searching for something worth believing in – a country, a person, a company – but you will always be open to feeling respect, admiration and wonder.

INDEPENDENCE

You don’t set out to be different for its own sake; you are more easily guided by what interests and moves you. You are more concerned about what is right for you than about the pressure to fit in. In sex you are more aware than others of impulses which are not entirely conventional. You know the value of selective irresponsibility, of forgetting occasionally about being ‘good’.

EXHIBITIONISM 

i saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked. // tyger tyger, burning bright // i have done it again. // do not go gentle into that good night. // the sea is calm to-night. // let us go then, you and i, // april is the cruelest month. // pretty women wonder where my secret lies. // there is a place where the sidewalk ends. // i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) // two roads diverged in a yellow wood. // whose woods these are i think i know, // let us twain walk aside from the rest. // once upon a midnight dreary, while i pondered, weak and weary, // i taught myself to live simply and wisely. // it so happens i am sick of being a man // i wandered lonely as a cloud // does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? // o my love is like a red, red rose. // o captain! my captain! our fearful trip is done; // out of the night that covers me // it was many and many a year ago // you may write me down in history // do not stand at my grave and weep // some say the world will end in fire // some say in ice. // hope is the thing with feathers // the wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees, // no man is an island, // remember me when i am gone away, // i met a traveler from an antique land // ‘twas brillig, and the slithy toves // this is thy hour o soul, // when we wear the mask that grins and lies, // death be not proud, // and death shall have no dominion. // laugh, and the world laughs with you; // the art of losing isn’t hard to master; // to see a world in a grain of sand // is there anybody there? said the traveller // nobody heard him, the dead man, // that crazed girl improving her music. // come to me in the silence of the night; // where the mind is without fear and the head is held high // when you are old and grey and full of sleep, // in flanders’ fields the poppies blow // i thought of you and how you love this beauty** // life, believe, is not a dream // it may be misery not to sing at all, // if tarry space no limit knows // come live with me and be my love, // had we but world enough and time, // my heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains my sense // bright star, would i were stedfast as thou art- // thou still unravish’d bride of quietness // how do i love thee? let me count the ways.* // heaven is what i cannot reach! // my dear, my dear, i know // in visions of the dark night // shall i compare thee to a summers day? // break, break, break // she walks in beauty, // i had a dream, which was not at all a dream. // he clasps the ring with crooked hands.