#gemmaisabelle

[gemmaisabelle]

nostalgia is the cobwebs in our ribcage from the lost corners where we once breathed. i cry when i hear your song. but in those moments, for the first time in a while, the cobwebs are finally cleared away. my breath is in rhythm with your heartbeat. it is as deep as my memory of you. i need you in my veins. without your name in my throat, i am swallowing blades. oxygen is sharp without your voice to soften it. with every cut i am reminded you were alive. you were alive. take me back to the night we met.

let me breathe you in until you coat my lungs. i will keep all of you beneath these layers of flesh, you will never die. you will live in me. take me back to the night we met.

[gemmaisabelle]

time as a construct eludes me and thus i cannot be bound to its passing . pls do not leave a message after the beep . my inbox contains nothing but ghosts . you will whisper to the static and it too will be lost . your communication translates to electrical humming and i cannot comprehend its buzz . i am deaf . i am mute . and my notifications are muted . forgive me .

i do not ghost purposely i just have no idea what to say ever

[kindlythevoid]

get loved, nerd

Aha! You think you can stop me with your dastardly words!? WELL! Catch THIS!

Oh yeah? Can’t take it, can you? Well, JOKES ON YOU, here’s aNOTHER ONE:

Oh, I get it. You think you can stand up to it. You think you don’t melt in the embrace of the void? WELL, try THIS ONE ON FOR SIZE:

And then one more for all my homies (and not):

Tagging some homies: @timmythetomatoturtle @gemmaisabelle @ro-sham-no @taeminsairpods @thefinaljediknight @ink-in-books @i-wear-sunglasses-inside @onereyofstarlight @oblivionyay @swampsiren-piratefairy @dragonbooksword @fialleril @fwtcanimelover @frodothefair @glitteringaglarond @jihyunv @kanerallels @manulpika @mlerpwonders @adevotedreader @silencehasstarted @rudikawhy @anyoneImisseddon'tworryIloveyoutoo-andamsendinggoodvibesyourway

[gemmaisabelle]

𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬

𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐭.

[gemmaisabelle]

i would have single-handedly pulled the moon through its phases if it meant getting to see a glimpse of your eyes in this ever-pouring night.

[gemmaisabelle]

𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ❦

I haven’t been on tumblr for quite as long as a lot of people but over several years I’ve noticed this interesting gradual sorta,, shift in the general culture? that it went from this mostly depressed, nihilistic outlook where people would regularly joke about hating themselves and being hopeless and depressed, to a wave of vehemence of “STOP hating everything actually the world is Good and you deserve love!!!” type posts, to now, where those aggressive ‘PSAs’ have faded away and instead I regularly see people romanticizing simple things like stars and hot tea and rainy mornings, and waxing poetic about their friends, and just trying to put love out there. and I don’t know exactly what that means (someone who knows more than me could probably say something smart about generational expression and trauma or popular perception of mental health and whatnot), but I do know that it makes my heart very full to see people learn to love the world and themselves by extension, and a whole userbase adopting healthier coping mechanisms, and therefore teaching the younger users to do so as well. I might just be following different people, but I really do think we’ve grown. everyone has grown. five years ago it wasn’t unusual for the next post on my dash to be a scathing commentary on why nothing matters or an anon ripping into someone they barely knew or someone complaining about how pathetic their interests are. now I have mutuals who get excited and spam reblog art of cows and friends I see tagging each other in pictures of frogs and strangers writing paragraphs about how much I matter. it makes me happy. idk. just an observation I wanted to make. I think people are good and everyone’s just trying their best at the end of the day

[gemmaisabelle]

it’s crazy how unseen one can feel in a world so public. everything is posted and collected and screenshotted and stored and saved and yet. here i sit on my little tumblr, overlooked in the sea of posts and reposts and saves and replies. and there is something humbling to that. while we are all watched, not all are noticed. not all are seen. and even in a world blasted in chats and web forums and viral posts, one can still live in the shadows. one can still hide in the space between algorithms and notoriety. one can live there and whisper to the void, “ i am here ” and not a soul will hear them. they will be lost in the blur of pixels, locked away for safe keeping.

[gemmaisabelle]

to love is not to be seen . it is to be heard . despite your invisibility in the sea of face, your voice carries, your voice is the foghorn . to be loved is not simply to be noticed, it is not even to be understood . you can be understood and still be ignored . it is to be heeded . amidst all the chaos, it is your voice i choose to listen to . it is you who saves me from crashing onto the shore .

[gemmaisabelle]

what if i started posting my words

—but just the scraps.

the soul lies in discarded thought.

[gemmaisabelle]

i want to live in a world of October.

[gemmaisabelle]

give me a quiet space to pour out my thoughts and I’ll give you my soul in a puddling tsunami

[gemmaisabelle]

you need to feel the feeling if you ever want it to pass

and that will break some people.

[gemmaisabelle]

i do not shut up when you first meet me and i think it feels kind of like how they tell you to dump as much personal information as you can in a shooter situation or if you are being threatened to humanize yourself to them like “hi i am a person pls do not kill me i am a person i know i act this way here is why pls do not treat me like that i am only human pls no let me explain—”

[gemmaisabelle]

i am going to be everything in this silly little life

and then i am going to be more.

[gemmaisabelle]

eternally writing and saving it to drafts.

[gemmaisabelle]

a stream of blog posts that look like “I woke up feeling refreshed. Went to my favorite coffeeshop. Aesthetic coffee. Perfect notes. Oversized sweaters. Books and books and books. Productive. Composed. Happy.” and while I am overjoyed for them,

what about the raw mornings. the mornings where you don’t want to be alive. or simply awake. or you want to be both, but you just, can’t move. your eyes hurt. your head is foggy. you can’t focus and your limbs aren’t responding to your neurological commands. your brain is too tired to communicate and thus you are paralyzed. trapped in a bed, in a morning you cannot wake up to. what about those mornings ? can we speak on those mornings, and how to pull yourself out of them so that you too might attend your favorite coffeeshop. sip from foamy lattes with aesthetic notes or a book. Productive. Composed. Happy. I am overjoyed for them, but I crave to be overjoyed for me too.