I can't unsee the cats, and bees don't have ears, unless they're supposed to be wings? Antennae? Dammit, those are cats.
I've got loads of Merlin doodles just sitting so I might start uploading them as they are.
Feeling safe in someone's energy is a different type of intimacy. That peace of mind and security is very underrated and I cannot emphasize this enough.
They definitely did it, just can’t prove it though
Since TikTok wants to be an asshole (flag my post), enjoy.
It’s funny.
Well, not really.
Theres nothing humorous about disgrace.
A fall from grace if you may.
A sinner.
I’m supposed to pray—
be thankful,
feel content with what the Lord has given me.
(I’m not.
I don’t pray.
I’m not a prayer.
I’m a sinner.)
Instead, I’m hateful and resent the curses—the wrong I’ve been ridden with,
The curses that have burrowed and brew in my skin.
The wrong that I can’t get rid of.
(I can’t cut them out.
I can’t cure them,
Because it’s apart of me.)
Embedded in my veins,
My skin,
My intestines,
And I just can’t seem to throw them up.
Intertwined so deeply into my soul they cannot be removed.
(I was born a “queer”
A “black sheep”
A “cross-dresser.”
My curses.
I’m a sinner.)
On my knees—
I beg and wail for forgiveness,
Trying to think of what I’ve did to deserve the body I’ve been shoved into.
What I’ve done to be cast as a “burden”
A “mistake”
A “Defect”
“Useless.”
(I’m a sinner.)
I’m forever hoping-
praying he’ll put me in a better body.
(Now I pray
I pray to undo
my mistakes,
To become a saint.
But none the less
I’m a sinner.)
One that does not sin
One that isn’t weak, no
One that’ll get me my place in front of the pearly gates
because in this body,
I’ll never be worthy.
Maybe God was not who crafted me, no
Twas’ Satan who did.
(I’m a sinner.)
I’m no child of God
Not by choice, no
I’m child of Satan,
“Broken, an enemy of God.”
He could never accept such disdain.
(I’m a sinner.)
“Thoughts and prayers.”
Condolences to a lost soul.
(A soul of which is mine.)
“God bless you.”
Isn’t enough to fix a bastard.
(I’m a child of sin,
Of sinners.
I’m a sinner.)
He says, “If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death.”
(I ought be to maimed
disowned—
dropped into the eternal flame
as though;
I am a sinner.)
idk if it's been talked about before but suzanne collins never misses a BEAT when it came to names, specifically coriolanus snow and dr volumnia gaul. just from their first names alone you can already guess what type of role might play between them (well... if you've read shakespeare's coriolanus that is. i do recommend it btw).
a lot of bits were taken from shakespeare's play for tbosas like the motif with scars / wounds / the body as being a microcosm of the nation, the common people fighting up against the government, coriolanus' hatred of the common people wanting to be "equal" to him, the rebel arc etc etc but i'm soooo so so interested in the fact that dr gaul was named volumnia and coriolanus is coriolanus because in the play, coriolanus' mother's name is volumnia!
volumnia is arguably the only female character in the play that has any depth (i am so sorry virgilia). his mother shapes her son into the warrior he is. she reminds him at every turn that he is nothing more than a weapon to be wielded. in fact, she's the one who gets her son to come back from his "revolt" against rome which ultimately lead to his demise. this parallels tbosas in the same way because dr gaul took coriolanus and molded him into the villain you would see in thg trilogy. she brought him back from d12 and then brought about the end of his humanity (a death, so to speak—at the end of the book he said something similar to this to try to save himself from lucy gray's suspicions but he was right because he did kill a part of himself to be where he is)! coriolanus snow's mother is present but off-page. her ghost haunts him, comforts him, but the 'mother' figure is the ever-present, all-knowing dr gaul.
UGH! like with just their names you could map out where they end up at the end of the story and that's literally insane. like the caliber of writing is literally next to none fr
You know you’re in love with someone when you start writing fucking poems consisting of said person.
“you have so much to do, and i have nothing ahead of me” IM GONNA FIND YOU MITSKI