I'm Terrified Of The Day I've Grieved You Longer Than I've Loved You

i think about my mother and what she had to let go to take care of me. i think about the photo of her when she was young, her eyes bright and golden, maybe she passed them to another child in another world. i think about how she didn't grow up, i think about the pain she was inflicted with to prove herself of her womanhood, of the burden she earned when she had children. i think about being in her womb, warm and parasitic, sucking the life force out of her, making her losing all locks of her dark, long hair. i think about her drastic weight loss, i think about her face holes, i think about her sudden shift in mood and satisfaction. i think about how i was the end to my mother, how i brought death to her the moment i was born and months i laid in her womb. i think about her mother calling her every other day, wishing she could see her and embrace her. i think about the nights my mother misses my grandmother, and how i wish she didn't have to be with me instead. i think about my mother and it aches because no matter how hard i try, i can never be gentle with her. i think about how i hate her with so much fury, but never wipe her watering eyes when she wanders. i think about how i love her to the point a part of me breaks and shakes and dies, but i can't show it without shouting and screaming and yelling. i think about how my mother yearns to be hugged and embraced by her own mother, how i wish i could be that for her, how i want to coddle her and kiss her forehead and tell her everything will be alright. i think about how my mother has crossed oceans for me to sleep beside me on lonely nights, how her mother would cross the same oceans to wash her hair, how i can't even seem to reach out to her and hold her close. i think about my mother shampooing my hair, and how warm her hands are, how safe i feel so bare infront of another human being, how the love from the womb comes back.

i think intimacy as rubbing lotion up and down the other person's thighs, soft kisses to the forehead and always a hand on their lower back

miyazaki hayao is my role model

Aftersun (2022) dir. Charlotte Wells

I want to eat love and spit out the root (the arteries hidden under your flesh) and I want to drink so much of your blood that it cannot be differentiated from mine until we become one; time and memory will unfold and entangle in an entirely new way and our changeless stardust will explore and melt the milky way after we burn

i cannot really handle birds or fish as pets anymore because i have seen the dead forms of both and they haunt me so closely and i do not need that on my conscience

i also wish humans did not care so much for intimacy because i hate to see anything around me die and i think a cat or a puppy or a lover would hurt the most and i already know i would not survive it

i wish i had an older person to take care of me forever. someone who'll kiss me and care for me and tell me that everything will be alright. someone that will tell me what to wear and what to eat so my mind will remain clear and i don't have to worry about anything other than suffocating in their smell and their warmth and i can just follow them and do what they want because the thought of following my own mind scares me and i am worried i'm going to be the reason for my own demise because i am evil. i want a heroine to sleep with me forever and kiss my neck so i can remain sane. is that codependency

i love you, i do love you so much but I don't know what you want from me anymore. you consume my day I think about nothing but losing you and just that doesn't feel right. i defend you I argue for you I want to cry but I don't, I don't know anymore

June 20, 1944 source