Have I Become Addicted

I see you were caught off guard by my blogs sincerity

Each year I have a new resolution and I can't help but have another. For the past four years it was to have enough food to eat, for a bed to sleep on instead of the hard floor, for my mother( where ever she may be) to be okay. This year I want to feel like a bird let out a cage, I want to shed the apathy from me, I want to peel back a layer and expose myself to all sorts of possibilities, I want to feel the heat of it on new skin. I want to live, not just survive, here's to 2025.

Let hope wrap you up in its gentle arms, let it never let you go.

Beware the ides of march they say. Perhaps we should beware every month, as we the participating audience watch this pantomime play out on insta reels and YouTube shorts. Meanwhile groceries prices go higher, innocent people die trapped under the rubble of their homes and country relations are haywire，all because the man on stage wants to pretend everything is satire. And he does this while the world catches fire, calls it progress. Calls it great T.V. But will call foul play when shots are fired when the people he hurts grow tired.

Excerpt from wip Dead above

The night won't last forever. Wait for the sunrise.

the biggest lesson im learning is that nothing is as extreme or as permanent as our emotions convince us they are. nothing is certain and things are always fluctuating and there are always exceptions and there are always mistakes. there is always pain and there is always love. everything is a delicate touch away from changing

It is, I might be absolutely recoiling but You'd definitely be employee of the month or midnight?(I don't don't how sleep paralysis demons do that stuff)

Anyone else physically recoil when thinking about how we are made of flesh and bone. I can even look at uncooked meat, if I've seen it raw I can't eat it cooked. And if it looks like a limb I'm not eating it at all. Then I think about how my body is uncooked meat and my bones possible tools and I shudder, I feel far to close to the tendons and the blood, I feel alive, so alive that the sound of my heart is a warning and a blessing, I feel so alive I'm afraid I'll die, I'm afraid of how gruesome it is.

𔓘 April / 20s / Writeblr 𔓘

This is a place to keep my writing/poetry and occasional artwork, and you're welcome to look around.

I’m working on something that will probably take me awhile (a long long hopefully not too long while lol)updates and snippets under #dead above. Until it’s finished, this blog helps me stay consistent, starve off procrastination and remember that life doesn't have to be empty. It can be warm and golden. I hope you wait for that sunrise. It's worth it. ~pfp icon is my first digital painting attempt.

Do the people we drift away from ever return to us.

When my parents spilt up I didn't see my dad for months, during this time I would spend nearly every day playing with my friend Kelsey. We would get our hair caught climbing trees or make terrible perfume from her neighbours flowers. One time she pulled out a box from under her bed, it was filled with snails of different sizes collected from her garden "we're going to colour the shells". So that's what we did, we gently coloured around 20 in bright orange, red or purple, after that we put them near a tree by her house. We did all this to see if the same ones would come back, we thought at least 5 would. Weeks went by and we didn't see any colourful shells in her garden, they had moved on. Sometimes people leave and they don't come back, but you still hold the memories close, you still carry their mark on you and maybe they carry yours too.

Maybe somewhere out there, there are snails with brightly coloured shells and maybe carrying a piece of someone with you is enough.

It's time.. . .. I'll say tomorrow

I'll do it tomorrow I said yesterday I'll do it today I said tomorrow I'll do it yesterday I said today..