2024 Is A Terrible Year To Be A Henchman. The Word "minion" Is Barely Usable And You Can't Even Say "goon"

posting on tumblr is like yapping into the void except the void is filled with ship posts of grown men

I love when people need me, not want, need. I know that sounds kind of co-dependent, but I don’t mean it like that. I love it when someone leans on me for support, or grabs my coat or backpack to pull me back.

NOT SO SOUND CLINGY THOUGH AH

I guess I just want to be wanted. I just want to feel important to anyone.

I bit my tongue and the blood was soured with spite type shit

I am so jealous of those who have hope. I am so envious of those who continue to search for light when everything around them is enveloped in darkness. I wish I could see something in me that would make me believe in a future for myself. When I think about the future, it is nothingness. A void, an old, empty blackboard with no chalk to write anything new. I can’t see past falling asleep with the metallic scent of blood lingering, I can’t see past going to bed with sore eyes, I can’t see past waking up with nothing but heavy shoulders, and I can’t see past spending every waking moment aching. I am so scared this all leads to nothing. I am so scared that I will be nothing.

I feel like I am wasting every second of my life, I feel like I have dissected myself into nothing but a disordered mess, acutely aware of my flaws and bad habits, with nothing to rectify my sins. I feel like I’m just wearing down everyone and everything around me. My violence is slowly creeping its way to center stage, and everyone sees it. People see how destructive I am. I feel like I break everything I touch, a perverted Midas.

And this is all very selfish of me, I am sorry for this. Spilling over, asking for more. I always want more and more and more. I want too much, and that is my tragedy.

thinking a lot about how nostalgia is a lying cunt

Liability is my middle name!

an ode to the rockies

cold damp tree bark

contrasting fixed moss

broken down cabins

and cold lone walks

wet rotted wood

and black fire smoke

slanted tree lines

mountains of snow

i cry to the wind blowing

i cry at the absence of rain

little bear cub unknowing

the reality of the vain

silent dew drops tell

the ancient tales of fallen rain

snow topped trees

whisper secrets

through the crystalized brain

the serenity of the scenery

claws at me with unrelenting fists

“will it ever be more beautiful than this?”

I transitioned from a girl whose lips couldn't move fast enough. to a boy who the dance floor didn't love

eughhhhhh

I want people to talk to me soooo bad

I hope I make everyone in my life feel wanted and heard

I hope I am someone people feel they can lean on