resident-pure-soul - Tumblr blog

[resident-pure-soul]

Just a quickie of my favorite BNHA angry anime son.

[resident-pure-soul]

In Music...

There are those who listen to hear.

And those who listen to be heard.

[resident-pure-soul]

Poem #1

I am the chameleon

Changing to whoever I need be

So that you will see

Right through me.

[resident-pure-soul]

Convincing myself to sleep:

Brain: No sleep. Deep dark sad thoughts. Create wild crazy worlds and characters. PINTEREST.

Me: Who are you gonna tell all theses ideas and thoughts? Everyone’s asleep.

Brain: ...

Me: When are people awake so we can talk to them?

Brain: Morning

Me: Fastest way to morning?

Brain: *grumbling* ...sleep.

[resident-pure-soul]

New Year New Art

Happy New Year! To celebrate, I’ll take 3 requests for Jan. Just drop which of my OC’s (Kenneth/Byrd/etc) one you want, plus a good reference pic and your ideas in the notes. I’ll pick and draw 3 over the course of January.

I may take non-oc’s if intrigued enough.

Enjoy 2020 🎉

[resident-pure-soul]

A little New Year’s Doodle. Happy New Years from Kenneth to you!

[resident-pure-soul]

I can speak from experience.

[resident-pure-soul]

I’m with ya fury

[resident-pure-soul]

My favorite pastime: Rethinking my whole life and how the world hates me because I’m a constant disappointment to my friends and family. Also knowing I probably just ruined any one of my friendships with my anxiety or depression.

[resident-pure-soul]

Her loudest screams are heard in the silence of the words she’d never speak again.

[resident-pure-soul]

Okay maybe two positive cute retweets won’t hurt. She’s obviously the best floof.

Cat Yoga

[resident-pure-soul]

Have the best floofs.

[resident-pure-soul]

I moved my cat from her place of restful slumber that I too might sleep.

I shall now receive the glare of a thousand deaths.

And the silent treatment of a thousand years. 

Not even pets shall amend this horrifying dishonor.

[resident-pure-soul]

Wholesome Cat Posts That Will Hopefully Make Your Day.

[resident-pure-soul]

Also:

“I see you’re sick/sad! Let me do my best to distract you from that so you can stop thinking about it and feel better!”

“You’re really excited about this thing and I don’t understand it but I’m trying to be excited about it too because you love it!”

[resident-pure-soul]

[resident-pure-soul]

She used to play outside the box. Toys strewn everywhere creating worlds of imagination. She would tramp and play happily along the miles of expanse feeding her mind.

The box sat there, never moving, never calling. Only the intrigue of what was inside. More toys? More worlds? They said the box held opportunities. Dreams. Yet there it sat in all da mystery as she made her universe around it.

Until the day she stopped playing outside. Her eyes turned to that abyss inside. Curiosity piqued, she put her hand on the edge. She took one peek. Then another. Perhaps the dreams were behind the blank snippets she could see. Throwing a leg up, an arm, and then herself, she tumbled inside.

She waited for all the amazing strange things she’d imagined inside. She struck only a bare wooden floor. With a yell, she started up. Blank walls. Plain floor. Nothing of interest. Nothing at all.

She reached but the top grew beyond her arms. She jumped, screamed, cried. The box trapped her deep in its belly. All she had was a glimmer. A glimpse through the open top of the expanse that had once been her playground. She beat the walls. Kicked and gouged then out. Then huffed down.

Days, nights. The turning of seasons. She grew old. Made the box her home. Familiarized herself with every detail of the blank interior. Less and less she stared up for her little glimmers of imagination. The box remamajned uncovered, but she became complacent. She made what she could. Scraped by, little by little. Never realizing how she’d grown. The edge once unreachable now just at her fingertips. Yet she never reached up.

In time she faded. A memory locked inside the walls. Another grew outside the walls. Imagination running wild. And there the empty box sat, growing in the corner of the eye. Empty yet so full of curiosity. A silent predator waiting to claim the next victim that danced outside its walls.