first-grammarian

[belovedapollo]

sunday feelings 🌳 reblog is ok, don’t repost/use

[luvermore]

last couple of journal days in my fauxbonichi

[1up-shroom]

We need more female directors... PERIODT

Male directors are only filming their fetishes & I am honestly getting sick of it..

I am talking about you Sam Levinson. Your aesthetic is cool but you have to dial down sexualizing every damn thing that moves.

We need a female pov on "The Idol".

[wreckrinho]

I have a journal and I thought "huh??....collages are cool. Why not try making one?"

my first collage ever lol. I took a look at what I want my vibes to be like in 2025

Do yall want to see more pages from my journal???

[unicorntgoughts]

“The quality of life is in proportion, always to the capacity for delight. The capacity for delight is the gift of paying attention.”

The Artist’s Way

[eccedentesiast-skies]

Learning to grieve aspects of yourself once believed would be apart of you forever, is one of the scariest yet most enlightening experiences.

[belog-grada-crna-princeza]

[15.08.2024.]

It will go, this feeling, having everything be still and simple right here and now, believing for a moment that you're in my world, a different world, that you are the world because there's nothing and no one else. No one exists but us, don't you see? They can't touch us and we can't touch them, they can't hurt us, only we can set ourselves on fire. If it gets out of hand. And I flip flop, I want you to hurt me sometimes, subconsciously, I want wounds that you will give me because then I will know you love me enough to touch me, to mark me, to change me. And I want you to never harm me, I want you to heal me, to hold me, to keep me (out of harm's way). I want you to be bigger than this life, and I want you to take off the mask(s) and to be human (with you). I unglued my body from yours and went to stare at the bathroom mirror. I wished I could reach inside it and finally merge with whoever that is. I used to want to punch it, just to see my hands bleed and in a way I did. There is nothing but internal conflict anyway. I hand my psyche to you to make sense of it, to help me out of this maze, and then another storm forms, out of nowhere and you are fascinated by it, while I run. You stay in one place. I come back. Want me to be honest? (I am not sure that I can't mess this up. I need.. it to be written in big, bold letters, I need you to shout it, I need you. I need you, doesn't that terrify you? It certainly terrifies me.) I will try to explain it simply: I am left frozen in the cold, the dark, and if you make the world warm again, bright again, safe again, I can relax. But the closer you are, the worse I get, because you see I'm melting and the illusion of the ice doll is gone. I'm afraid that the storms aren't as pretty, so close up. I am afraid of reality killing us. It has always been ruthless, hasn't it? I don't know how to function inside it. I don't want to live in the way I've been told to and I can't live as myself and this impossible choice keeps haunting every breath I take. Why would you choose it, and not this? And more importantly, why would you make me choose it? I need a little fantasy to shield me.  And, I guess, everyone believes I'm wrong for it. If you mean(t) what you say, then you will accept this truth. Because, for me, it really never was a choice at all.

/

-Katarina

[martishort]

[belovedapollo]

May journal pages 🖋️ reblog is ok, don’t repost/use

[luvermore]

a couple of recent journals in my pocket size moleskine

[1up-shroom]

Treat people the way you want to be treated.

But more importantly, Don't be disappointed when your kindness is not reciprocated.

Journal entry. 📓

[moonlightchaos333]

And you have to ask yourself. . .

But who do the gods pray to?

[unicorntgoughts]

Certain people in my life might not change, but I can. By change, I mean shifting the habit of not liking myself, of hating my body, of suppressing my deepest desires and the truths of who I am.

[oldcoyote]

journalling this morning and came to the thought that if i think all of my friends are amazing, wonderful, cool people that i admire (which i do), then i can't be worthless like my rat brain says because they have to be investing their valuable time and their love in me for a reason?

[belog-grada-crna-princeza]

11.07.2024. 12:14am

I have never related more to that quote: it's crazy how day to day seemingly nothing changes, but when I look back to this time last year, everything is different. Last year me wouldn't recognize this me, or her life. I want to write about it, but I can't even put it into words. It's the escapism, the integral part of my being, the very thing that helped me survive and the very thing that holds me back; my reality is always like a movie, I sometimes fear I don't know how to be real. I can't explain it, can't justify it, it just is. I am too much in the spiritual realm, and too little in the material world. I speak from the subconscious, I think about otherworldly things, I only care about love and passion and emotion. My dad said today: you look 18, not 26, your face is so babyish. Little does he know that's how I feel, sometimes I am a teenager, sometimes I am a kid, and when I am an adult, I play pretend. I fake it, I pretend I care about that adult stuff, I am going through the motions but inside of me there is a screaming, terrified child who has no idea what she's doing. I have accepted who I am, mostly, except sometimes it's so hard to find anything that's really mine in this world. I think about my friend, when I recommend her this book the other day where the author wrote how we only really have ourselves, and we agreed it's true. But the little girl inside me blocked her ears not to hear the words leaving my mouth. Then I think, how selfish of me, I should just. Snap. Out. Of. It. I think about him, how he entered my life by some insane twist of fate, and how he said: you should stay alive because you never know what you will mean to someone, like I didn't know you existed a few months ago and now you mean a lot to me. I think about the people who see the good qualities in me, I think can they love me like this and is it possible to love someone so far from being perfect? Sometimes I feel like the biggest mess in the world, this world getting more and more neat and tied in a pink ribbon, where everything and everyone is without flaws. But I know they're not, they're just as lost, I almost want to wink at them and say: we're just pretending, right? We all feel this, don't we? Except they look at me more and more like an intruder, at least that's what it seems like in my head, all of them are judging me all the time because I am playing my part wrong. I wish it didn't hurt the same every time, and it's not like I even want to belong with them, or that I take it personal, it's more just some existential pain, some sadness that they don't even see how we are all nothing and this all means nothing anyway. It's just an illusion, but an illusion I am getting better at believing nonetheless, because there is no virtue or safety in running. I want to be real and yet I want my fantasies. I want it all. I want it to be less complicated and yet, I love how complicated it is..because if it was simple, it would be called Death after all, not Life.

[limirint]

I think that pacing is truly the most frustrating part of my writing process. I crave a slow burn!!!! But how slow should I make it? Should it even be burning yet? Maybe I should write an exposition about the matches first, that way I can lead into the flame— no don’t leave stick with me