The Trouble With Practicing Mindfulness And Healing Emotionally And Getting A Job And Trying To Be More

THIS WAS FOR A SCHOOL PROJECT IGNORE ANYTHING BAD.

sylnan thing i did a long while ago .. :P

dicks out friday

@parallasso this is how vel and br’aad look in that one fic where i make them trans frfr

some fated doodles w/ diff hairstsyles :-)

running a mutual aid clothing drive rn and we just finished our winter clothing drive and i got a last minute donation of men’s winter coats- which is great! men’s clothes are really hard to find especially in larger sizes like this and these items are usually the first to move when i set up for distribution.

the problem is they all REEK of cigarettes. like not a gentle tobacco smell, a DEEP smell of, like, end of the pack, straight filter kinda smoke. does anyone have any advice on getting the smell out? the items have to be boxed up for a few days while waiting for distribution if that changes anything.

judas’ betrayal was an act of god. the apple that lodged in adam’s throat was an act of god. if i press my quiet lips to the tender spot on your neck where the original sin still sits heavy in your windpipe, is that an act of god or a sin? either way it tastes sweet.

hey shawty baes and scythebelt truthers:

as requested, here are the songs used for chapter titles in “it’ll be alright”

1) Night Shift - Lucy Dacus

2) A Month Or Two - Odie Leigh

3) We’ll Meet Again - She & Him

4) Being Alive - Eleri Ward

5) The Only Heartbreaker - Mitski

6) And Eve Was Weak - Carrie 2012 Premiere Cast Recording

7) Hey Tomorrow - Jim Croce

8) Golden Slumbers - The Beatles

9) Revenant - Anaïs Mitchell

10) I’m Sorry - Brenda Lee

11) April Come She Will - Simon & Garfunkel

my actual scythebelts playlist is pretty similar so lmk if you guys want that!!!!! okay bye forever

i love writing fanfic and making the characters do whackamole silly ass shit that is at least 20 tiers of separation from the plot if they’re even in the same universe. it’s like playing with barbie dolls because all the plots are deep and elaborate and involve struggles of oppression and violence and i solve every problem by making my two favorite ken dolls match each other’s freak narsty style.

art for the lovely @mastofthecast as part of the @jrwi-art-exchange!! i really hope you like it!!! :D <33

hey so i have a new fic coming (gimmie a month) but in the meantime heres images of my childhood bedroom

i took some of them when i was trying to be happy there and i took some of them when we were trying to run away. i think about the second to last picture often. the sign above it said things worth believing in. i had been trying to fill it for months. i never got the chance to finish it.

every time i thought of something, if i stopped to think about it through goggles that acknowledged how vast and wicked the world could be, in that way you are overwhelmed by evil when you’re little, it never seemed worthy of putting faith in. i only ever managed to add to it when i was blind with happiness, and that came rather irregularly. i always felt guilty about it later; how dare you find bliss in pretty boys and sweets and silly indulgent giggles. i still feel that way sometimes.

i try and find bliss in it anyway now. i think to the voice in my head, “you’re just a child. there’s no sin in happiness. there’s no sin in happiness. tonight you will nick yourself while cooking. tomorrow you will spill a drink. those aren’t sins, either. they’re just reasons to find your bliss now.”

and then the voice says back, “you’re being very silly.” and i think “i can hear you trying not to laugh. it’s beautiful. you’re so beautiful. happiness isn’t a sin.”

the sign was hidden in the corner, with my hope chest and my closet. it was six pages of white construction paper. i never filled up more than 1/8th of a single sheet. i looked at it every night. the first few days, when it was empty, i’d stare at it till i fell asleep kneeling on the floor. my knees would wake me up with stabs of pain, and it felt like penance for being alive. i can’t ever convey how wonderful first putting a marker to that paper felt; the turquoise ink spreading fat, welcome.

i went to sleep in my own bed that night and i woke up the next morning and wondered if the world was really as bad as it felt; and i decided it couldn’t be all that bad. i forgot the decision quickly. for the seventeen minutes i held it, i felt peace.