Thereās a five star hotel down the road. It looks like an abandoned castle, something that could have a graveyard behind it. But the stars are all there. Some say the owner plucked them from the sky because it would be easier than earning them. Nobody knows who he is but there canāt be that many people in the world who can pluck stars from the sky. An old lady who can see the hotel from her bedroom window says the stars live in the hotel sign for the whole month except during the full moon. Thatās when they go visit their families up in the sky. Or maybe just the moon. Maybe the stars are in love with the moon, or the other way around. All the old lady knows is that she saw the stars leaving late at night and when she woke up in the morning they were there again. Nobody knows who the owner of the hotel is. Maybe someone should ask the stars.
Taurus:
The girl wants to be someone else when she grows up. She doesnāt know who. Sometimes she says she wants to be something else. She doesnāt know what either. All she knows is somethingās not right when she looks in the mirror. On some days, her hair is the wrong colour; on others, itās her feet that are too big.Ā āI have too many handsā, she complains,Ā āand not enough eyes. I was born to have more eyes.ā Her parents think sheās going insane, she makes less sense day by day. But then, when the girl is 21 years old, to the exact second, her bedroom door is closed. The windows are shut, the father knows the lightbulb in the lamp doesnāt work, but there seems to be light coming out from under the door. No key will open it but suddenly it creaks. The light changes colour. No wonder she didnāt know what she was born to be. Itās staring right at her parents and they donāt know what it is either.
Gemini:
Four hundred years ago, this house wasnāt here. Two days ago, it wasnāt here either. But here it is now. Nobody saw it being built. Each of the neighbours blinked and suddenly realized it was there, each in their own time. Maybe it was there all along and it suddenly became noticeable, but the children from the house across the street distinctly remember riding their bikes across the vacant lot where the house is now, just the day before. The most curious thing about all this is how fast rumours are created. After one night in visible existence, dozens of them are already going around. When I went outside this morning, this house was said to have been the scene of five different but equally violent murders, three suicides and one very suspicious noise complaint. Itās a mystery who created these rumours, but one of those suicides was the old man who volunteered to be the first one to go into the house after lunch, and heās been there for a really long time. I wonder if it has anything to do with the gunshot I just heard.
Cancer:
Once upon a time, a sailor went under the sea. That time was five hundred years ago. His ship was being attacked and there was no salvation to be seen. He forsook all his gold and the love of his life and jumped to the water. He was never seen again. The love of his life, I mean. The sailorās skeleton lies in a museum. Once upon a different time, a human cannonball went up in the air. That time was a hundred years ago. The circus was having trouble, nobody bought tickets anymore. So this particular human cannonball said he was going to meet the little green men and tell them of the human race. He was never seen again. His cannon lies in a museum. Coincidentally, the same museum as the sailorās skeleton.
Once upon a third time, a diver went under the sea. That time was five hours ago. He doesnāt know it, but heās about to discover the gold the sailor forsook. Heāll keep it a secret and live a long life as a rich man, but his son will lose it all gambling after he dies. That money will never be seen again. Once upon a fourth time, an astronaut went up in the air. That time was an hour ago. Iāve been watching the sky waiting for him to come back but I canāt see him anywhere. He only had oxygen for thirty minutes. I donāt know if Iāll ever see him again.
Leo:
āWe want five million dollars by ten oāclock tonightā, they said,Ā ānobody else but you or youāre screwed.āĀ āNo schemes or attempts at being cleverā, they added at the end,Ā āif we spot a single sentient creature who isnāt you at the drop spot, you better make peace with yourself because you wonāt survive long enough to get back home.āĀ āAwait further instructions.āĀ āThe drop will go down in the far north end of the park. Put the bag with the money in the trashcan and leaveā, they told us,Ā āweāll keep our end of the deal after we count the money. Wait by the newspaper stand.ā Everything seemed to be going fine, if you ignore the fact that I was losing my mind.Ā āFive million dollars in unmarked billsā, they demanded,Ā āweāll be waiting.ā Who the fuck steals a dead body? And how did they know? It was my first kill in years.
Virgo:
Marcie stole somethinā. She stole it fast and she stole it good. She ran to the library and went to the encyclopedia section. She was so young. Marcie hid what she stole. She hid it fast and she hid it good. Down here in the south we donāt see girls like Marcie. So young. So small. Had her whole life ahead of her. Thereās no reason for girls like Marcie to be stealinā things. Nor hidinā them for that matter. But Marcie stole somethinā and she hid it in an encyclopedia in the library. After that day, Marcie had this look on her face, like she wasnāt no young little girl no more. And when the library burned down she stood there screaminā, lookinā at the fire. Cryinā at it, more like. We only found out sheād stolen somethinā that day. We askedĀ āwhyāre you cryinā Marcie?ā and she whispered all lowĀ āI stole somethinā. It was thereā. We didnāt ask much after that, the poor girl was heartbroken. Whatever it is she stole, It had to be somethinā important. Thereād never been a murder in this here town before the day she said she stole it, but since Marcie stole that somethinā, thereās been one every other week.
Libra:
āWeāve been walking for miles. The children are tired. Please, let us stop. We need to go back. Please, let us stop. Please. Why canāt we go back? The sandstorm is getting closer, the children wonāt make it. My children wonāt make it. Please, let us go back. We need to go back. Youāre a mother too, please understand. We need to go back. I donāt deserve this.ā
āThen you shouldnāt have done what you did.ā
āI did it for my family. Havenāt you ever done bad things for your family? Horrible things? Things you know are unforgivable but you canāt bring yourself to regret them? Thatās what people do for family. Please let us stop. Itās for their sake too.ā
āYou know the rules. Thereās too many people. Criminals go into the storm and take their families with them. Itās the way things are. Youāre a criminal, you go into the storm.ā
ā...Does it look like the storm is heading towards the city or is that just me?ā
āYouāre the criminal. You go warn them. You can go back.ā
Scorpio:
Some days look like the night started to leave but decided to stay with its foot behind the door. It just stays there and the light never fully comes. Humans say itās normal.Ā āSome days the sun just doesnāt shine.ā Thereās no light shining on their skin or on plants. For a whole day, once in a while, nothing grows. Nothing lives. But they think itās normal. You probably think itās normal too. But not the other way around. What would happen if the night hours came and the day didnāt leave? If the light kept shining at midnight and one in the morning and two until it was daytime again? What would you think? What would you do if the moon never showed up? If you never saw the moon again? Maybe itās right behind you. Donāt look. When thereās light thereās shadow too, and scary thinks lurk in the shadows, feeding on the daylight, among other things. Thatās why the day never stays for too long.
Sagittarius:
When I was little we lived in a huge house. I remember thinking āWhen I grow up big like my parents Iāll have a big house of my own just as big as this one.ā Itās been a long time since then. I still live in the same house and Iāve grown just as big as my parents. But the house didnāt. I can no longer fit in some rooms. The doors are too small. Too narrow and too short for me to pass. I fear that one day Iāll wake up and realized Iām trapped in this house forever. It seemed so big when I was a child. Now I know why all my memories of my parents are me watching them in the garden. They didnāt fit. Iām beginning not to fit too. But I canāt leave, I have children here. I canāt afford another house. But I just wonāt stop growing.Ā āWhen I grow up Iāll have a house just as big as this oneā, my son tells me.
Capricorn:
Five hundred years it took Daisy to realize she was immortal. Five hundred. What the hell was she thinking?, I asked myself when I heard one of the others tell her. āYou are five hundred and twenty years old. You are immortal.ā Canāt get clearer than that. Did she think she was just really really healthy? Itās apparently a well known fact that sheās not the sharpest wand in the shop, but sheās not the only witch in the coven, someone should have told her earlier. Hell, Iād only known her for five minutes but she fit right in with the others. They always stand in a neat little line. Pointy hat, pointy nails, pointy nose, pointy nose wart, then Daisy with her pointy fingers askingĀ āwho are you? who are you?ā, and now me with my pointy hair. I didnāt understand if she kept asking that as a joke or if she was even stranger than I thought. I kept asking myself this until the next morning. I didnāt see anything, but it sounded like Pointy Nose Wartās voice.Ā āYour name is Daisy. You are five hundred and twenty years old. You are immortal.ā And she left the girl standing there, as shocked as the day before. Then she walked into another room and I heard Pointy Nails talk to her.Ā āItās about time you undid the spell, isnāt it? The girl still wakes up afraid of the Inquisition. At least tell her her real name. Elizabeth.ā
Aquarius:
He was here and now heās gone. He was here five minutes ago and now he isnāt anymore. Heās gone. Forever. He was standing right in front of me. Thereās blood everywhere, oh my God thereās blood everywhere. I remember just yesterday we were watching a movie together. Weāve known eachother for so long. Since we were little children. Our parents have known eachother since they were children. And now heās gone. Thereās blood on my dress. He was so beautiful, and now Iām never gonna see him again. I look up and only see the sky. I look in front of me and only see darkness and trees. Heās gone. I look to the ground and- oh there he is. Thatās right, I killed him. I almost forgot. Silly me. Thatāll teach him not to be a cheater.
Pisces:
Three centuries ago, I died. Two centuries and three hundred and sixty-four days ago, I died again. And again one day later and so on and so forth. Itās a rather nasty way to live, isnāt it? āPun intendedā ha ha. I believe thatās what they call it these days. Ā I remember falling in love with a woman and then failing her in every way imaginable. I was rude, I was cruel. I thought I was the best in the world. But I was in fact in love with her, even though it didnāt seem like it. And oh poor unlucky me, she was a witch. I believe she still is, somewhere, away from me forever. You know how their kind is with punishments.Ā āEat a rotten apple for the rotten life you have led and rot until the end of daysā or something along those lines. They do love their alliterations. I treated her like rotten so now I turn to rotten flesh every day and wake up fine the next morning, ready to rot again. Not very original, is it? But it is vicious. Imagine what she would have done if she had known I had killed her brother. But, you know how it is. He had cheated on a friend of mine, and us women have to āstick togetherā, as they say. This curse just gives me more time to find all those other cheaters out there. And she thinks she punished me.
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I want and cannot find myself
I walk about the perennial yard
and wonder how we got here, how we come back
one year after another and crawl about the hastas,
our lilac-hydrangea bushes running wild with bumblebees and wolf sound
there are moments that take us to other places
you take me to so many places
it is hard to remember where we started out
or ever wanted to end up.
And It feels lonely,
It wants to die one day, to leave a place for someone new,
for something else to grow again
(Some things repeat themselves in the back of my mind
like a ritual. This is one of them: āThere is no life
without death. It is time to be alive again.ā) and
It keeps on wanting.Ā It cannot find itself.
Lilac-hydrangea bushes in the summer,
Irises in the spring, mandevilla grows on my lips
like a vine and attracts the hummingbirds.
It still sounds so romantic: the strangers in part shadow,
art hanging down the walls like lobelia from the portico,
how I still pronounce the double Lās like Yās
slowly, mouth rumbling smooth,
sky bound (limite del cielo, limite del cielo)
I search and cannot find myself.
There is no truth in anything but the soul
and I am beginning to think I may not have one.
I feel around in the anatomy, a schema
of limbs and words and tendon locked joints,
who made me? such a decorative thing
I see you like James Potter so when he and Lily got together shes a bit embarrassed cause all the marauders are cheering like fools and James goes up to her and tells her that theyre going to be together forever and at first she rolls her eyes and laughs cause she thinks its just him being cocky but when she looks in his eyes she realises hes deadly serious and so to prove it he steps forward and looks her in the eyes and he tells her that theyll be together forever again and she just smiles
I have forgotten what it feels like to be touched. The world, and all the people in it, are ice cold glasses of water, voracious, some impenetrable silence.
I have forgotten what it feels like to be made from scratch. An egg here and four cups of flour, stir, add extract; make a person with a small voice and narrow feet, make someone whose bones grate together in the winter and is never warm.
I have forgotten what it feels like to be sick. There were times my fevers reached 102 degrees, when I was so hot that my body shook like windows in a thunderstorm- everything clattering together and I became (made of nothing) (almost dead) almost alive.
I become almost alive.What does it mean to be whole?
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Headcanon: Enjolras likes to put on his cool face and sayĀ āyou donāt wanna see me drunk cos I get really deep and philosophicalā but in reality what happens is that his speech gets really slurred and he starts mumblingĀ āthatās some fucked-up *hic* fuckinā... capitalist shitā at random objects like a carrot or a kettle
So I decided to create a sideblog dedicated to all things space-related. From serious news about space exploration and discoveries to all kinds of silly theories about aliens. And the idea is for you to be a part of it too. Yes, you. Hereās how itās gonna work:
You can check out the blog and follow it if youād like.
Maybe check out my main fandom blog too because Iām trash.
Reblog this post to spread around the idea.
And hereās where it gets cool: you can send anything you want that relates to the theme of the blog, wether itās beautifully constructed texts with proper scientific facts and theories or random thoughts likeĀ āwhat if aliens had 3 buttsā. Anything. The idea is to have the core of the blog be stuff you guys send, so we can create sort of a forum to discuss just how cool space is and the possibility of other civilizations out there. Or even if you donāt believe in aliens you could say āif they existed itād be hella cool if they had like 5 toes on each elbowā or theories/crack about other planets like āI bet thereās a planet where it rains orange juice and the wind is made of knivesā and who knows, maybe itāll spark a conversation and youāll get to know other cool people and learn actual things. Anything is allowed (as long as it relates to the overall theme going on here) and anything is possible.
The blogās url will serve as a tag for any post you might wanna make about this, from art to texts to lame drawings on napkins to links to interesting news. You donāt have to be following the blog (though itād be cool if you were), just tag your post #extraterestial blogĀ (#extraterestial is apparently already being used) and Iāll check it out and reblog it.
Thatās it, thatās how itās gonna work. If you have any other questions, feel free to ask me through either of the two blogs. Go ahead and have fun :)
