Mar 29
this picture is the cold mist and walls of a prison i may find myself in, sometime in the near future. maybe i won’t. i don’t really know.
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this picture is the cold mist and walls of a prison i may find myself in, sometime in the near future. maybe i won’t. i don’t really know.
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i hope that when death comes for me it feels like an eternal soft hug from my partner. like his arms holding me tight. i hope that i will be okay.
slightly bluer than my normal works call it a slice of my mind at 4:41 am on a wednesday morning.
another one from the mondsy archive back when blingee still stood. circa 2020.
turns out you do eventually heal! and you stop being upset when u remember the bad things that used to make u cry and u just move on with your day. go to the shops via the canal, see some ducks and shit. come to and from work like ur just another traveler (u are). you start to feel like ur moving on without even really appreciating how impossible that seemed way back when. Imao. and also you circle back to that 2019 playlist and it's still great
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part of the mondsy archive, 2020. before i came into my current style.
postage stamp lament, 23/09/2025.
when i visit my home town i see ghosts of the past me in every corner. crying at the bus stop and hanging my legs over the edge of the train bridge. the truck stop and the field i used to pass out in week after week. im different now, but the trees are the same. the tracks are the same.