A Comic About OCD

You ask me why I like you, and the words feel too earthbound—like cupping water in your palms and calling it the sea.

I could tell you about the way your voice feels like a lighthouse calling me home, or how your laugh cracks open my ribs, letting the wildflowers inside me bloom.

But none of it would be enough, not for this, not for you.

I like you because the world tilts in your direction, because every word you speak feels like the first page of a story I’ve always wanted to read.

And if I had no words, only silence, I’d still find a way to show you: my gaze resting, my breath steady, my being leaning toward you, always.

the fact of a garden

skeletons

i keep thinking about how it feels as if we have developed ourselves an obsession with "healing" these days – and a friend said something that really stuck in my head – "if you're part of a community where you're always trying to heal, then that means that you always need to be sick". like i think that we're all taking this ideal of healing too far saying that everybody needs therapy all the time and resetting your gut biome or surrounding yourself with positive energy or whatever it is that you can come up with. you're always focusing on something that is "wrong" and that needs to be eliminated, after which everything will be okay again. it all sounds like just another way of maintaining an illusion of control over your life and i don't think it's doing us any good

Hope wins every time the sun peaks over the horizon after a long dark night, it softens the day and baths the ground, it warms the air and we breath easier and maybe our souls uncurl a little from that protective crouch we've grown used to, maybe we let our limbs loosen, maybe we let hope sink into our skin, maybe we let it melt our misery from within.

“There’ll be peace when you are done” my fucking ass. There’s no peace and I’m not even sure it’s done.

Riddle: Waves of greetings and goodbyes

Irreverence for all; desire or need. We often squabble for and ever heed, the inevitable- possessives plead, regardless it chokes: forever it lead;

Causes and caused all until "The end", you lose?- it lend, like enemy and friend, your abuser it rend and later it mend. The rules you bend, just follow a trend, Forever you fend, press buttons to vend, you attend; descend as entropy wend.

It can never know you, but you know it? Right?.. (not rhetorical)

A harbor seal glides through the bay, In waters where the sunbeams play, With whiskered grace and dappled skin, A quiet dance, a gentle spin.

Majestic in its silent glide, Rules the waters, free and wide. A fleeting shadow, sleek and wise, The harbor seal beneath the skies.

Footage from our divers enjoying the magic of the sublime seals right outside in the bay 🌈 🌊

Ghostly Stones - Monochromes in a Colourful Mind

Ancient stones of marble and granite,

barely upright over the souls they've known,

erected to remember, but more often forgotten,

faded by sun, stained by pollution and rain.

Their surfaces marred by time's non-judgemental hand,

etched with memories, but barely still stand,

bearing witness to the ghosts of old,

anchored to bones six feet below.

These stones, once adored and polished to shine,

now weathered, cracked, and worn with time,

still scream for acknowledgements of those who've passed,

their presence lost, like whispers in the wind.

But their effigy remains, etched deep in stone,

a testament to the lives once known,

to the loves and losses, joys and tears,

of the souls who once walked here.

These stones may be forgotten by most,

but for those who listen, they still boast

of the echoes of the past, forever bound,

to these ancient marble and granite stones above ground.

you make it look easy. your speed. your agility.

favorite comic book character: six anything → fighting style