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Daughter of discord mentioned

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I don’t love him— or him. I don’t love anyone, god, I can’t even love myself. I don’t think I’m capable of love. And it sounds like a dramatic tragedy coming from angst filled teen but. I’m not sure I was ever meant to have that fairytale love. I’m not even sure I can have any kind of love at all. I’m sorry mom.

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The understanding that comes when your friends are partnering up with the people they’ve been yearning for; while eating Doritos at 5:30am. Wow. I’m so absolutely elated and somehow just as suddenly upset and lonely.

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When he turns out to be just a man. But not in the “I’ll fight for two decades to see my wife” kind of just a man. Really just a guy.

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I think they are what I partially envision when I think of Persephone and Hades

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The most lethal combo; bpd, fearful avoidant, incredibly self aware, and infp/j.

A walking contradiction on my part, my bad y’all.

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The yearning is wild like, get over it?

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For some reason, I always remember the anger. I can’t always remember time or words, but I remember the anger. 35% of my whole being is anger and my current memory only supports that. Why so angry little one?

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If sex is anything comparable to two days after your first leg day in a while… I’m not sure I want any part of it.

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The dutch barista just asked me how I was doing, and then if I was okay… and then if I was sure. NEW LOW ACHIEVED. (Thanks Austin, you’re a real one.)

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Gonna call it quits now because I was crashing out, HARDCORE. Over MINECRAFT.

(The transition from controller to keyboard is devious, 0/10, would not recommend.)

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Andrew Garfield the man you are.

(Just got stuck in half an hour of edits. I need help)

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my favourite thing about the story of hades and persephone is that the story grew up with us.

i think most of us, when we were young girls ourselves, heard that first, most tragic version of the story: persephone, the innocent child of spring, who wandered into a dark, terrible place, and ate of a cursed garden. hades, meanwhile, was cast as a shadowy, grasping seducer, looming from the darkness: here he stood, the god of riches, of gemstones and bones, of cold, dead things, who wanted to snatch a little bit of sunlight for himself.

and then came the second version of the story, when we were older, not so much a change in narrative as it was of perspective: we heard about zeus raping leta, we read the way medusa was cursed for being raped by poseidon, we read about athena’s jealousy when she was outwoven by arachne, about hera tossing little hephaestus down a cliff because he wasn’t as beautiful as a god ought to be.

once more, we considered hades: the youngest of the trinity, free of spite and hatred and fits of rage, running an empire greater than his brothers’ together, with little ego and quiet efficiency. a god who only took one wife, only loved once, and then too: wholly, completely.

like something not out of a horror movie, but perhaps, indeed, a fairytale.

then the third turn, when we had grown older, acquired a veneer of cynicism, suffered boys who never grew to men, when we realized that the only way our sexuality would not be annexed was if we conquered it ourselves.

then came kore, the woman of spring, who found in hades a quiet, dark refuge, away from demeter’s wrath and hungry possession, away from the squabbles of those tiresome, reckless gods. the girl who fell in love with darkness. the goddess whose spirit was of renewal and rebirth, and still flourished in the heart of the underworld, the duality of her nature only serving to highlight her strength.

hades remained as he ever was, unchanging, like death itself. but persephone grew, acquired facets and beauty in her change, spring given form in metaphor and mythology.

hades and persephone grew with us. that’s why they’re powerful. that’s why they’re loved.

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I feel like being productive, just not in the ways that matter.

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A book written by someone who watched the world progress to what it is now from the start of its birth.

The mc can’t remember anything from before they woke up, they watch as the world shifts over the billions of years it has lived. They don’t realize how long it’s been, they come to understand the greats, watch them grow and grow and die, only to be held onto by the world. The people that were lost in history, the people who never got to use their voice. And mc has this being, leading them through it. Any questions are answered and over those billions of years, the two grow close. Mc watches dinosaurs go extinct, humans come into play, the world fall apart and get built upon.

Oh how I would love to read that.

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Will I ever be the one you call out for, expecting to come bounding back to you like some loyal dog? Because I can do that, I can. Just call my name and I can be right there.

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i watched one (1) video on how to draw hands that changed my life forever. like. i can suddenly draw hands again

these were all drawn without reference btw. i can just. Understand Hands now (for the most part, im sure theres definitely inaccuracies). im a little baffled