yuunfi

Latest Posts by yuunfi

yoou guys wont be laughing when i suddenly collapse unconscious and have to be taken to the hospital. then youll all see <- normal thought process to have while doing anything i dont want to

Switching between these every day

day 212 | *cue laugh track* [id in alt]

hand studies and exploring fun colour stuff

a lot of you aren't interested in identities as avenues for meaningful self-understanding, or for organization and solidarity with others. you're just shameless individualists cultivating a personal brand. the ultimate consumers, parading around, pretending to be leftists. how fucking embarrassing

OP turned off reblogs (and I understand why) but I wanted this on my dash

yeah no offense to confucius or anything but if i was about to embark on a journey of revenge i would simply not dig two graves

also somwtimes when you dont understand a piece of art it's not bc ur dumb it's bc you havent had the very particular emotional experience that it's trying to invoke in you and you just cant relate. which is also why sometimes you will hear a mountain goats song and say Meh and then you go through some shit and you listen to it again and lose your fucking mind at how real and raw it is. art is how we communicate with each other about experiences that cannot be adequately represented straightforwardly with language. sometimes you have to abstract your representation of the experience in order to truly communicate how big and insane it felt

just sent my irl best friend an incredibly risky fukinf link WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN WITH HER SPECIFICALLY i will shove my head in an oven

everybodys a tough guy until 16 old draws a sword

I love when dogs and cats just let you pat the shit out of them and they enjoy it so much. Like yeah dude real quick I just need to play you like a bongo and they’re like god yes I’ve been waiting for someone to play me like a bongo

Yeah you're right. It WOULD be pretty fucked up if you were a swan but you were raised by ducks and you grew up never seeing another swan or even knowing that such a thing as a swan even existed so you just thought you were a duck with something super wrong with it.

was on the phone with my oldest sister two days ago, after a long long day. on the floor of my bedroom, full face of makeup and sweat on my forehead. she said 'you know our mother is a bit cruel right? more than others' and. she's right. that also wasn't the right moment to be saying that. how could i tell her 'you haven't lived with her in six years. i've seen her nearly every single day. she's crueler and sadder and more pitiful than ever. you're right. she's cruel. how could u say that so easily though. she's made me cry nearly every day for over a month. you've been her daughter ten years longer than i have. how could you call her cruel. have you forgotten what its like to be her daughter? now that you're a mother. now that motherhood holds more meaning to you. now that motherhood isnt only the way our mother gave her all to give us the healthiest, strongest bodies but forgot to give us healthy minds. do you just remember her as cruel? though its been years since you were subjected to it?"

i didnt say all that though. just. 'yea, wouldnt i know it'

told my friend 'my day was ok!! they're all blending together' and then downed a random pill my mom takes which turned out to be anxiety meds and two pills of melatonin. now what

guys whats it called when u understand why ur mom feels so targeted all the time but u have to deal with the overwhelming consequences of ur mom feeling targeted all the time

They live in my head rent free. Drop your headcanons in the reblogg tags

people change you and sometimes that is the worst thing in the entire world because you used to like yourself a little more but now you hate the flinch that lives in your shoulderblades and you overthink every moment and you never set a boundary without feeling internally destroyed and it fucking sucks because they shouldn't get to do that, they already ruined your life the once, it shouldn't echo into the future

but also people change you and sometimes that is the softest morning and the best surprise. realizing that you can divide things into perfect thirds without trying because you were a sibling in a group of 3 and always needed to measure out things. you learned to skip rope and step around cracks from the kid down the street. you love the way your favorite english teacher influenced your writing.

you're old enough these days to know your mother was right and you should take a coat just in case it gets cold but you are still too young to have outrun the thunderstorm of your childhood. you arrange your spoons the way you learned growing up but you've since reorganized the rest of your kitchen to make sense to you and the way that you like working. you fold your clothes actually still based on the marie kondo method (you just like the habit of it) but you allow yourself to just-loosely-chuck-some-of-it-in because really who has the fuckin' time for it.

you still can't be in the room while people look at your art (some kind of weird mix of guilt, shame, and embarrassment) but you picked up certain words and phrases from friends that help you slow down and treat yourself a little bit gentle with it. you always take other people's crafts with a reverence like praying, but you can't help that when you see your own work from a few years ago, you mirror someone else's snort of disdain. you saw other people's bodies and freckles and stretch marks and scars and you realized they are all still fucking beautiful to you, almost obscenely so, because they belong to someone you care for so deeply that it blocks out the sun - but you can't help the little flash of self-judgement whenever you pass a mirror; the voice from too-many years of 90's and 00's skinny-means-you've-won.

and it's kind of funny because you meet someone new and while they're making friends with you, you get to see these little stories playing out of them. you meet your mom and you think oh that's where they get the accent and you meet their college roommate and you think that's the same joke you both make and you meet their friend and you think ah so this is explains the oddly vast knowledge of freshwater lakes

and then one day in the mirror you reach your hand up to push back your hair and you think - oh shit, that was them. or you make a comment and you think ah, stole that from someone else. or you stand in the store and get that random flash of they would totally tell me to buy this. and it is like a little strange river to bind you to them - that over all this time and space, their hands guide your hands and your heart in silence. it is good and it is bad and is so precious and so horrible. it is both proof of love on this earth and it is also the thing that is keeping you hurt.

a little promise that is probably true: somewhere out there, your hands are ever-so-often guiding them too.

My boyfriend was on the phone with his dad yesterday so I went out to sit on the patio to pet the geese and play on my phone for a bit, and while out there I came across a comic of baby Grimace (yes, that Grimace) being sad because everyone hated his milkshake and saying he wished he never had a birthday. Then there was a follow up where tons of people had commented saying they loved the shake and wished Grimace a happy birthday, and that made him happy again.

This, for whatever reason, emotionally devastated me. I was sobbing. I was ugly crying so bad that even the geese waddled away side-eyeing me.

After a while my bf yelled from inside, "Okay, you ready for dinner?" and I was forced to accept I had to go back in the house a defeated sniffly little wreck.

My boyfriend, who has only ever seen me cry once in the whole year we've been together, looked horrorstruck. He assumed the worst. Someone got hurt. Something was wrong with my family. Someone was mean to me (a cardinal sin). The panic that washed over his face was unparalleled.

He, upon seeing me, (somewhat theatrically) rushed over and grabbed me by the shoulders. "What's wrong, what happened? Are you okay?" he asked, frantic. "What is it?"

I realized how ridiculous the whole situation was and just shook my head.

He was growing more panicked. "What is it? Why are you crying?"

I then had to stand there and look him, this completely normal human being, in the eyes, and blurt out "Grimace"

Confused silence followed.

"....Grimace?"

I nodded.

"...The McDonalds guy...thing?"

I nodded.

"What...what did...Grimace...do to you?"

I then tearfully recounted the silly internet comic that had absolutely broken my heart. And this poor guy--this poor, wonderfully sweet, nice, patient guy--kindly stood there trying to figure out how to comfort me that Grimace was not, in fact, sad. (Nevermind that he's a corporate mascot who isn't real)

This morning my phone rang just after 5am. It was my boyfriend. It was my turn to panic, to assume the worst.

I didn't even have time to say hello before he started excitedly yelling, "Look at the TikTok I just sent you! Look! Open it!"

Confused and not entirely convinced I wasn't still asleep, I opened the TikTok.

An official release from McDonalds confirming Grimace (who still isn't real) did, in fact, feel special on his birthday.

yoshida you FOOL. he thinks he can mansplain manipulate malewife denji. he doesn't know denji's antibodies from surviving makima's gatekeep gaslight girlboss attack are too powerful.

first years sashisu

this isnt even in a like. ‘doomed by the narrative, im always miserable’ kind of thing. like im happy and all, things are fine. but i think if i caused my own demise it’d be because i held onto things so tightly that i folded in on myself. or i’d feel more and more like a dense mass of lead and one day it would just crack. its like looking at myself in my head and being “hey. we’re never gonna be able to let anything go, are we”

anyways i wanted 2 write this down bc this is a sad attempt at journaling but before i could a friend called. and i was nervous before picking up but im So glad i did because she wanted help with something and i was the first person to come to mind. she ended the call with “hey. you know you’re very dependable right? i needed help with this and the first person to come to mind was you. i love you” i love u too hunz.

you will be called selfish and unfeeling and careless, but you will also be called dependable and sweet. all sorts of words from all sorts of people

i hold onto everything so much and so close with such a vice fucking grip i think im going to die of it one day. even though i talk a lot and say what i want to, sometimes there are such vile, or on the other hand such important things, that i wish could be said but they just cant. and they rattle around my head like a chant until it hurts and then i forget. for a while.

i remember everything bad thats ever happened to me and ive become So good at holding grudges without being angry at people. so its like. i remember what you did. yes i love you. this moment is lovely. until something delicate slips and all that has ever been wrong becomes glaringly apparent.

i hold onto everything so much and so close with such a vice fucking grip i think im going to die of it one day. even though i talk a lot and say what i want to, sometimes there are such vile, or on the other hand such important things, that i wish could be said but they just cant. and they rattle around my head like a chant until it hurts and then i forget. for a while.

i remember everything bad thats ever happened to me and ive become So good at holding grudges without being angry at people. so its like. i remember what you did. yes i love you. this moment is lovely. until something delicate slips and all that has ever been wrong becomes glaringly apparent.

you think you’re over it but then you hear the two songs you played on repeat all throughout that one detached-from-reality-summer where u saw him day and night, and everything becomes a little blurry. you’re over it until you pass the bench by the sidewalk, the two people in love only a few feet away from you but in a world completely of their own, and you remember how you sobbed under the streetlights, pretending your pain was just brought about by something or the other. 

you’re fine until you pass by that one corner in the library. you remember how you woke up from a nap that felt like death, the table leaving imprints on your tired face. you remember seeing someone else in a haze, and feeling exhausted and alone, away from home. you remember doing a double take, seeing his face, his voice low the way he’d talk to someone in need of tender care and affection. “did you think we’d just leave you alone like that? im right here, yeah?”

 you tell yourself you’re over him and that you’re fine. you honestly are, really. until you’re playing with your mother’s hair, and you catch a scene from her soap drama. its a girl on the phone with her friend, her closest, with pain laced so deeply in her voice its a miracle no one hears it. “hey, its alright. he was yours to begin with. all that? just one-sided delusions. wishful thinking. i give you my blessing, so make sure you’re happy enough for the both of us. its no one’s fault, is it? love can’t be earned if you’re pitiful enough, if you wish for someone enough. it just happens.” you don’t notice what you’re remembering, which hazy memory, but you know your eyes burn and your throat is holding back a tight, lead-like lump. you know there are burning, red-hot tears streaming down your face on an uneventful summer afternoon.

 you know you’re never going to find someone like that again. you know that even if you do, by some twisted curse of fate, they won’t be yours. you know because you knew this before, before he happened, before you met him. you knew what your person would be like, and you knew it wouldn’t happen for you.

 you’re sitting in a crowded campus bus, golden light spilling in. you’re next to your best friend, and you tell her “you know? i know for sure i won’t find someone like him. i’ll get married, i’ll settle, but it’ll never be like that.” 

she tells you she knows, in the depths of her heart and soul, that you’ll find love. you’ll find someone who fits with you even better than him. you let her have it. you let yourself pretend for a few minutes, but you know, in the depths of your heart.

 you know you have such good luck with everything else, you know you can get out of the worst situations unscathed, you know the corner store always has a stock of your favorites, you know you’re blessed with a little mundane magic because the universe knows you’re never going to get the form of love you’ve always wondered about, always craved.

you’re fine until you remember, and then you force yourself to be fine once again.

bringing back this meme because i can’t stop thinking about it

this is a poem

I am asking you to endure it.

I hate applying for jobs. “desired salary for this role” one billion dollars next question

girls day out

asaden in a nutshell

Comic idea credit to: @/tinyangryghost at twitter