how do I get people to believe something's wrong
a little beth harmon!
🏳️⚧️Pride Daisy Chain Necklaces🏳️🌈
The Woven Lemon
reasons.
i talk my shit but do you guys remember being 12 and in 2008 and you heard viva la vida by coldplay for the first time and you were like fuck this is so powerful. i'm going to kick the ass of god
It's time!
I feel like people struggle to understand that my life as an aorace person is not centered around an absence of relationships. There is no romance shaped void that I am trying to live with, or live around, or which my life's purpose is to fill somehow.
I go to university and I go to work and I volunteer in my community and in the in-between moments I drink tea with my friends and I plant tomatoes on my balcony and there is no need for anything else. There is no room for anything else anyway.
When I am asked how I deal with 'the hole in my life' or what I do with 'all my free time', I know these questions are not about me at all. They are a reflection of the person asking.
by Mary Oliver
I. There’s this shape, black as the entrance to a cave. A longing wells up in its throat like a blossom as it breathes slowly.
What does the world mean to you if you can’t trust it to go on shining when you’re
not there? and there’s a tree, long-fallen; once the bees flew to it, like a procession of messengers, and filled it with honey.
II. I said to the chickadee, singing his heart out in the green pine tree:
little dazzler, little song, little mouthful.
III. The shape climbs up out of the curled grass. It grunts into view. There is no measure for the confidence at the bottom of its eyes– there is no telling the suppleness of its shoulders as it turns and yawns.
Near the fallen tree something–a leaf snapped loose from the branch and fluttering down–tries to pull me into its trap of attention.
IV. It pulls me into its trap of attention,
And when I turn again, the bear is gone.
V. Look, hasn’t my body already felt like the body of a flower?
VI. Look, I want to love this world as thought it’s the last chance I’m ever going to get to be alive and know it.
VII. Sometimes in late summer I won’t touch anything, not the flowers, not the blackberries brimming in the thickets; I won’t drink from the pond; I won’t name the birds or the trees; I won’t whisper my own name. One morning the fox came down the hill, glittering and confident, and didn’t see me–and I thought:
so this is the world. I’m not in it. It is beautiful.
Hey there, long time no post!
I actually finished this piece a little while ago but I kind of forgot about it with my last uni course and life happening haha 😅 but since I've been replaying botw the last few weeks and with totk just around the corner I thought now was a nice time to share it with you all! ☺️
~(also I definitely am very normal about totk and absolutely not in any financial debt at all because of the collectors edition and OLED)~
you: i don’t really have sensory issues
also you:
hates your least favorite food because of the texture
wears the same 5 year old bra every day
wearing lots of jewelry irritates you
hates touching wet/soggy things
wore your socks inside out as a kid/always wear the same kind of socks
why won't that ticking noise stop!!
despises shirts with rough tags
she was bisexual, she was a lesbian… can i make it anymore obvious?