i cannot hate myself into a version of me i will love.
i cannot punish myself in any way that will unmake the past.
$LAYYYTER
almost home
Stranger Things
🪼

Andulka
ojovivo
The Stonewall Inn
YOU ARE THE REASON

★

ellievsbear
d e v o n
Claire Keane
Sade Olutola

Love Begins
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

Kiana Khansmith
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@tender-histories
i cannot hate myself into a version of me i will love.
i cannot punish myself in any way that will unmake the past.

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“i. when you fall in love with an angel, you must understand that there are things you will not understand. ii. when you first go to run your hands through his hair, his halo will slice your palm. and it will hurt. he will mend it with the touch of one golden finger, and will leave so abruptly that he is gone almost before you blink. the last thing you see will be him standing in the doorway, a terrified expression on his face and blood in his hair. (later, he tells you that he didn’t realize how breakable humans could be. when he explains what it takes to make an angel bleed, you start to understand.) iii. ask him about the sky, about stars and suns and galaxies light years away, about how the universe looks like a blooming garden. do not ask about lucifer, because your angel will become a soldier before your eyes. do not, do not, do not ask about god. do not ask about rebellious older brothers and absentee fathers, do not infer about a war you know nothing of. iv. in a science class you are taking simply to get the credit, your teacher will be talking about quantum physics. she will call planets “celestial bodies” and suddenly you will only be able to think of the way his mouth curls in at the sides, of all the puckered scars that criss-cross his torso, of the graceful arch on the bottom of his foot. when the teacher calls on you and asks you if you are alright, you will flush an even deeper red. (at times it is lovely to be in love with an angel. but other times, it is not.) v. when you fight, it is like the world is ending. his anger conjures a thunderstorm, and soon the entire state is three inches deep in water. you shatter a picture frame. a bolt of lightening catches the house across the street on fire. you are screaming at the top of your lungs—something about duty, something about god—and there is a crash of thunder that shakes the house. the weathermen talk about the storm for days, and you change the channel. vi. then there are the times when he doesn’t visit for months on end, and when he finally comes back to you, he is not himself. there are new scars across his chest, and he does not speak. he sits with you in his arms for hours, his nose buried in your hair and his arms squeezed tight, so tight. he does not cry. you do not cry. you do not cry. vii. when you fall in love with an angel—oh, sweetheart. it’s too late to take it back now.”
— on falling in love with an angel || m.m.c
The people in town all think you’re insane for buying this house, not that they hadn’t thought you were insane beforehand. It’s not like the town is all that massive, since most take any chance they can to leave this place and never return. There’s always quite a few empty houses ready to be bought, you could have chosen any of them. And yet you chose this one.
The town is surrounded by a rather dense forest, a forest which is known to house all manner of supernatural beings and creatures. Everyone knows not to stray into the forest, and if you do, then not to do so alone, of for long. For some reason though, the beings of the forest cannot seem to exit the forest completely during the day, thus leaving the town in dubious safety whilst ever the sun is up.
Going into the forest itself at night is a death sentence, but being out and about in town or having your doors and windows open at night, is rather dubious as well. Most supernatural beings view such a thing as an invitation. Luckily, the further away from the forest you are, the safer you are from their trickery. Most of the time.
The home you purchased, just so happened to be the only home in town that was technically within the forest border. Understandably, it had stayed empty for a very long time, despite how beautiful it was.
You loved it though. The house was old and quirky, and had an air to it that you adored. Your rear garden was pressed right up against the old forest, the fence having long since rotten away, and wildflowers having overtaken most of the space. All except for one tree that sat in the centre of your yard, between the forest and your home. The entire rear half of your house had large beautiful windows that faced the forest, as well as a massive section of glass doors that opened up to the rear garden, almost like an entertainment area, thanks to the simple stone porch.
The first thing you did after you moved in, was to open it up wide and set up your art studio in that room. You knew that people were said to be harassed and driven insane by the creatures of the forest if they lived this close, but honestly, you would prefer their harassment to that of humans. You weren’t even sure you could be considered sane to start with. The townsfolk certainly didn’t seem to think so.
It never took long for people to realise you were an odd one. You were an artistic soul with a quirky nature, and unfortunately that didn’t go over too well with the more reserved folk one tended to find in small towns such as this. It was better to save yourself the trouble, instead of risking being chased out of town again. Hopefully here, you could immerse yourself in your artistic endeavours as much as you wished, and still be left alone by the bitter people further into town.
Your first couple nights there were uneventful, but after about a week, you started to feel their eyes on you as you went about your day. On a whim, you decided to greet your new “neighbours”, by filling a basket with fresh fruits and homemade foods, placing the basket just a little ways past your tree.
By the afternoon, when you finally dragged yourself away from your canvas, you found the basket empty, and placed on your side of the tree. Happily, you decided to continue to share. You usually had some surplus anyway, and it was nicer and more satisfying to share it with the “others” than it was to share with the townsfolk.
Each morning, at your own pace, you would happily open up your large glass doors, place your basket of goodies on the grass, and settle down to begin creating as you pleased. Though you continued to place the basket between the tree and the forest, the basket itself would be returned to you closer and closer to your home, now often coming with flowers, seeds, or herbs that grew only in the forest, in return. You had never had such a lovely selection of plants in your garden before, and you were more than content to share your newer gains with your non human neighbours as well.
One morning, you were feeling particularly melancholy, and so instead of sitting inside with your doors wide open, you sat quietly against the tree, completely focused on what you were writing. You never heard the basket being taken but you were eventually startled by the sight of a strange fox appearing at your side.
It was cautious at first, but it took surprisingly little time to warm up to you, eventually settling right up against your side as you wrote, much to your delight. You were very sad to say good bye to it at the end of the day.
Luckily for you, this seemed to usher in a new routine, and each time you found yourself sitting by the tree, canvas, sketchpad, or laptop in hand, your new friend would cautiously come and join you. You relished in their comforting presence, and began to bring treats specifically for them as well, when ever you would settle out on the grass with them.
One evening, as you sat on your rear porch, just outside the wide open doors to your art studio, you accidentally drifted off to sleep, the sounds of rain lulling you and leaving you blind to the dangers that came with the approaching night. The next morning you woke to find yourself gently laid out a few feet past the now shut doors, a cloak of glistening silk, lined with fur, laying over you.
You were startled, but took it in stride, gently folding up the cloak and putting it into the basket with that mornings gifts, before depositing it in its usual place in order to respectfully return it. Not long after you had settled in for the morning, your fox companion came to join you once more, settling directly in your lap as you leaned against the tree, working on your creation of the day.
Yet again, you found yourself unintentionally falling asleep, this time lulled by the gentle warmth in your lap, and the soft cool breeze that could be felt by the tree in your garden. You didn’t even wake as you were shifted and carefully lifted, sleeping soundly through the afternoon and the night.
The first rays of sunlight were what finally started to stir you awake, and sleepily you shifted, looking around in confusion. Once more, you had been carried inside, only this time you had been gently laid out on your bed. Your covers had been discarded, and replaced instead with that same beautiful cloak, its scent surrounding and covering you, leaving you feeling warm and safe.
Sleepily, you began to sit up, pausing as something fell from your head and onto the soft cloak, waking the fox that had contentedly curled up against your side. Surprised, you looked at the fox, only to startle as something once again fell from your head at the sudden movement. Curiously, you reached up into your hair, discovering dozens of flowers gently woven into your hair, having been lovingly placed while you slept.
nobody is coming to save you. get up

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“That isn’t who I want to be so I will simply not become it” are words I repeat to myself often these days.
hobonichi 2023 // march logs
"Falling in love with a god is not a death sentence. The story is only a tragedy if the god loves you back."
- Nathaniel Orion G. K.
a lot of life can be persevered thru by secretly playing pretend in your mind the whole time
i ask you how you are and i'm saying "i love you" i send you a 15 minute voice note and i'm saying "i love you" i remember your coffee order and i'm saying "i love you" i watch the movie you recommended and i'm saying "i love you" i send you a movie you'd love and i'm saying "i love you" i buy the extra large bag to share and i'm saying "i love you" and i'm saying "i love you" and i'm saying "i love you" and i'm saying "i love you"
(x)

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it really is insane how waking up early will grant you access to some of the most beautiful sights and sensations in the world that will make you want to live forever, but only if you overcome the gauntlet of a thousand razors that is getting out of bed early. truly one of life's little saw traps.
i can attest to this
I may think of you softly from time to time, but I swear I'll cut my hands off if they ever reach out for you again.
I think kafka’s diaries are the strongest evidence that journaling is not necessarily good for your mental health
it's because he didn't use washi tape
really strange how you can be almost at peace with something that happened to you but it will continue to be a defining moment of your life for the rest of your life. you wont think about it much anymore but in a conversation about a film someone will mention the year it was released and you’ll think to yourself, “that was before it happened” and you’ll see an old photo and think how strange it is to have existed before it happened and somehow it’s like living a life in two acts

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2024 MANDATE
Do NOT. Do not. DO NOT buy fake leather
Pirate everything. Burn cds. Fight the cloud
PHYSICAL MEDIA
Tip food service workers crazy style
Smile at yr bus driver
Wear more eyeliner
Read superhero comic books
Paint more blood and gore
See saw xi in theaters
DIY OR DIE
Draw messy
LIVE MUSIC
remember that old panic at the disco is good truly
Tell people you love them
Stompy boots
My Chemical Romance
Assault a customer at your retail job
Write that weird fanfic
Watch every vampire movie ever made
Wear that crop top
Start a fire
Listen to music made by angry women
Remember that you are fucking alive and do whatever you want
may your 2024 be vampiric and homoerotic