-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

“imagine caring so much about fiction” imagine being so lame that you scoff at the timeless human practice of falling in love with art and stories

The intimacy of answering the phone “Hey you.” The intimacy of stopping to wait when someone needs to tie their shoe. The intimacy of knowing when someone’s voice is thick with worry or sleep. The intimacy of singing (badly) with someone in the car. The intimacy of huddling together under a shelter/umbrella. The intimacy of instantly recognising someone’s handwriting. The intimacy of trying to make plans and, “Oh no we can’t, you’re working that day.” The intimacy of matching your pace to theirs as you walk. The intimacy of being there for someone as they cry. The intimacy of “How did you know that?” “Because I know you.” The intimacy of feeling someone’s warmth through their clothes when you hug. The intimacy of being given change that’s warm from the heat of someone else’s hand. The intimacy of shared, comfortable silence. The intimacy of knowing how someone would react. The intimacy of keeping the radio off when someone falls asleep on a long car journey. The intimacy of sharing one earbud each. The intimacy of noticing someone’s nervous habits. The intimacy of “I had a dream about you.” The intimacy of inside jokes. The intimacy of feeding someone food as they drive (or really any other time). The intimacy of knowing just how someone likes their tea/coffee. The intimacy of trying something new together and having no idea what you’re doing; the shared hesitancy. The intimacy of someone saying “Text me when you’re home safe.” The intimacy of someone falling asleep next to you. On your shoulder. In your company. The intimacy of sharing secrets in the nighttime, because 3am will never tell. The intimacy of someone’s pet recognising you and coming over to say hello. The intimacy of “This made me think of you.” The intimacy of borrowing a jacket still warm from their body heat.  The intimacy of seeing someone’s unfocused eyes when they first wake up. The intimacy of ordering food and “shall we share it?” The intimacy of someone sharing the meaning behind their tattoos. The intimacy of just looking at someone and dissolving into laughter together.

slipknot sounds like werewolf lube 

You're just a mammal. Let yourself act like it. Your brain needs enrichment. Your body needs rest. You feel hunger and grow hair. You need to pack bond with other sentient things so you don't become unsocialized and neurotic. You are biologically inclined to seek dopamine and become sick when chronically stressed. "Hedonism" is made up to place moral value on taking pleasure in sensory experiences. I am telling you that if you don't let yourself be a fucking mammal, as you were made, you will suffer and go insane. No grindset no diets no trying to be above your drive for connection. Pursue what makes you feel good and practice radial rejection of the constructs meant to turn you into a machine. You're a mammal.

Nikita Gill, from Fierce Fairytales Poems & Stories to Stir Your Soul; "Seven,"

Creative writing inspired by this painting ^^ __________________________________

The creature was beautiful. The way it flew around the mountain tops was more majestic than anything the explorer had ever seen It’s pearl white scales seemed to shimmer in the moon light, and the stars were reflected clearly in its violet eyes, a feat that was visible even from the ground. The sight was mesmerising. The creature flew around the mountain tops looking like it hadn’t a care in the world, so unlike the people back at his home village. If it wasn’t for those people, the traveller wouldn’t have found this marvellous thing. Before, there had been no knowledge of this beast, but then one day, when the traveller was about ten years of age, a rumour spread about this beast with sapphire eyes, massive claws that could rip you to shreds in one blow, and a beast that could breathe blue fire. Those rumours spread quickly, but the traveller knew that the description was false, and so he set his life to find this creature, and now that he had, he knew that the rumours were false, and that this beast was one of cruelty and not one of cruelty. Oh, how he wished to go back and tell them how wrong they had been. But now, as he stood at the bottom of one of the mountains, the beast clashed eyes with him, and he knew he was ready to go to the next life. Maybe there will be more adventures awaiting me there, he thought as he laid down and floated into oblivion, content with how his life had turned out.

I used to build dreams about you.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

I just want to be loved, but I don't want to input the burden of my existence onto someone's life when they could be happier without me.

in case anyone else needs to hear this it’s ok to be more serious. i don’t just mean ‘it’s ok to be serious sometimes’ i mean in general. not everyone has to be funny. it doesn’t have to mean you’re sad or unlikeable. you can just be serious and genuine most of the time and that’s great. i personally think that we’re too focused on ‘funny’ as the primary carrier of likeability right now. i often feel starved for serious conversation, for serious spaces, for a feeling of gravity. you don’t have make good jokes to give people a good time. i say, goof only as the spirit moves you, & don’t worry about it.