To the odd spirits who visit my blog, leave kind messages, or wander through like ghosts in the marsh:
Finding passions in life is hard and can even feel daunting or hopeless. But everyone has that hidden spark of flame that finds their heels someday.
When you want to look for the spark that keeps your spirit, that one bit of light that makes you come alive, look backward. Because you will never find the marks you make in the future; it hasn't happened yet.
Look at all of the doors you've opened, the windows you've passed, the hands you've shaken- what color comes away? What gift stains your fingers, coming away from your body like a poorly-contained painter's heart? Because I guarantee you when you look back, it will be entirely too obvious.
And I hope that when you find it, when you see it, you smile. You smile and you shake your head and you mumble, "Of course."
I wish that. I yearn for that. For everyone on this strange little rock spaceship we call home.
6 notes
·
View notes
Excerpt from a conversation over a mixup in getting together. Then my friend said this, and it hit me on a very deep and profound level. I assume everyone doesn’t like me. I assume I’m ugly. I assume I will always be alone, I assume I will not succeed. This sets a course, it goes beyond venting of frustration, it becomes belief and belief sets a path. Is it any wonder why friends don’t call that much anymore? I think not. I think I’ve driven them to fatigue. But even taking her text into consideration and NOT speaking on my own assumptions for why our hangouts are sparse and few in between, I feel fatigue when I hear myself speak about the fucking cage I’ve placed myself in. It becomes a running joke that was never funny to begin with. Shit or get off the pot. End it or Don’t.
I haunt myself over memories of our end. I feel crippled and ugly. I feel I gave so much to be smacked in the face at the end. I feel like a dog abandoned once again. Staring out the window because one day she might return.
It’s as exhausting and pathetically vomitus and pretentious as that. I have to end this cycle. It needs to end.
1 note
·
View note
A short, angsty one-shot.
Stanley finds a distressed Reader. He's not good with words, but he means well.
Sometimes you just need to take a drive to process things...
Rated T, just in case.
"The Scenic Route"
It happened again.
Just when you thought you were in the clear, life took you by the collar of your shirt and dragged you through the mud again. The numbness of your heart hadn’t settled in- you still felt the stabbing pain of your anguish. Tears were flowing from your eyes- you hated them, you hated crying like this, you were so ugly when it happened-
No matter how hard you tried to hold it back, they dripped down your red cheeks and slid down your neck. Your nose ran and you looked down at your trembling hands. When would the numbness settle in so you could stop feeling like this?
The thought that someone would find you hadn’t crossed your mind. Least of all that it would be him.
“There you are, toots! I’ve been looking all over for you…-” Stan’s gruff voice trailed off as he noticed how hunched over you were.
You twisted away from him, trying to apologize, trying to hide your tear-stained face but he brushed off your apologies, silently walking over to sit beside you. His warmth radiated against your body like a furnace, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. It was embarrassing enough that he’d caught you like this.
“Who made you cry?” There was an edge to his voice that spoke volumes of what he might do to the perpetrator, but you shook your head. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, and you took deep breaths, trying to get control of yourself.
It felt impossible-
The weight of Stan’s arm wrapped around you and he softly murmured, “C’mere. It’s ok. You don’t gotta talk about it if you don’t want to… But lemme hold you, doll.”
You kept your face hidden against his chest, allowing him to pull you against his warm body. He was simultaneously soft and firm; one arm kept you close while he stroked your hair with his other hand. The comfort of his touch was enough to help you regain control of your breath and you finally settled down, breathing a little easier.
“It’s just… I'm so tired.” You whispered finally, the sting of your pain still throbbing in your heart.
His fingers faltered in your hair before he tilted your face up to his. You resisted.
“Sweetheart, look at me.”
You finally turned your face up to him. His dark eyes were like warm pools of amber, and you saw your pain reflected in them. His rough palm caressed your cheek gently, wiping the bitter tears from beneath your eyes. His lips twitched with indecision before he spoke.
“You and I both know I’m no good with this sort of thing. Besides, there’s nothin’ I can say that you haven't heard a million times before already… Whatever's bothering you, I can't take it away... But I got a car. Why don't we get out of here for a while?”
You decided that, yes, you did want a ride.
“Well, then.” He stood up, taking your hand. “What the hell are we waiting for?”
You let him lead you and with every step, the pain began to lessen if ever so slightly.
The Stanleymobile roared to life and you felt a flicker of exhilaration as you settled back against the seat. Stan passed you a tissue.
“Don’t worry, it’s clean. What kind of guy do you take me for?” He chuckled at the skeptical look you sent him before accepting the offering.
The car rolled from the driveway, and the world became a slow-moving blur of sweet-smelling pine trees. Stan flicked the radio on, and the wind brushed your face and played with your hair as he took you down the winding roads of Gravity Falls.
You knew, deep down, you’d have to face your problems when the ride ended, but for now, it was just you, Stan, and the gorgeous views that were passing you by. The sun set, rendering the sky with watercolor textures of orange, pink and soft lavender.
Not one more word was spoken between you and Stan during the ride, and that was ok with you. His presence was enough to comfort you.
You leaned back, letting your eyes close as you drummed your fingers with the music, swaying with the motion of the car, and inhaling the smells of the surrounding forest.
The chill of the evening air became a bit much, and he turned to look at you.
“Ready to go back?”
“No, not really.”
He chuckled softly.
“I know where we can go.”
The Overlook wasn’t exactly a secret spot, but it was still fairly private, and as Stan parked the car, you took off your seatbelt and slid closer to him. He wrapped his arm around you again. The edges of dusk were giving away to twilight. The sight was beautiful, and for a moment, you really forgot about your pain.
In that moment, all you could feel was warmth, and you glanced up at Stan. He squeezed you a little closer, his mouth pulled in an uncertain smile.
“You’re gonna be ok, toots.” He hummed.
“I know… Thank you, Stan.” You leaned against his broad chest. He shifted slightly, and you felt his lips brush the top of your head affectionately.
“Anytime, sweetheart.”
161 notes
·
View notes
ok i love the idea of Dream escaping the fishbowl and having to recover with Hob’s care as much as the next person but i can’t help but feel like the only place he would gather his strength is his own realm
so Dream escapes his prison and goes back to the dreaming and is determined to find his tools but he’s so weak that Lucienne is adamant about him getting rest at the moment. But he’s back in the dreaming, which means that humans can dream again. What’s the first thing Hob dreams about? his Stranger ofc. a missed meeting by over 30 years yes he’s still thinking about his friend.
Now for ppl to dream about Dream, he feels a pull to them. I don’t think people can dream about him in the way that their subconscious makes him do things. Instead it’s like a calling card. So Dream feels the pull of Hob and he can’t not go. He simply won’t miss another meeting.
Dream arrives at Hob’s door and knocks. When Hob opens it, his smile is soft and forgiving. Dream can’t believe it. Even Hob’s subconscious wasn’t angry with him. He sees his smile, so warm and inviting, and just breaks. He doesn’t cry, but he doesn’t hide his emotions and that’s enough for Hob to be immediately worried and hesitates for a second before grabbing Dreams shoulder. Dream leans into the touch, going so far as to rest his head on Hob’s shoulder. The man ushers him inside and they spend the rest of Hob’s sleep slightly cuddled on the couch, Hob holding Dream’s hand while Dream continues to lay on his shoulder, completely silent.
When Hob wakes up he feels weird. Like, he’s never really dreamt that vividly before. And he’s never had a dream where nothing really…happened? and holy shit. He hasn’t dreamed in a hundred years. He can’t really stop thinking about it all day, until he’s off to sleep again. And again, he’s in his house when a knock stirs him from his thoughts. (am i lucid dreaming? what is this?). And it’s his Stranger again. He looks tired. too tired. Hob doesn’t hesitate this time to grab his hand and lead him inside, this time bringing him to the kitchen to make some tea.
This continues to happen. By the second or third time, Hob realizes that that actually is his stranger. He doesn’t really understand it, but there’s really no other explanation. Slowly, Dream starts talking to him. Telling him everything about who he is and where he’s been the past century. He doesn’t visit every night and he doesn’t always want to talk, sometimes he asks for Hob to tell stories. Sometimes to play music to fill the noise. Hob realizes that the mirror that’s usually on his wall disappears in the dream world.
Hob doesn’t mind the silence or telling stories. He’s glad that his stranger, Dream, has a place to feel comfortable.
720 notes
·
View notes
mcfly july 2024 || 🌲🌲 || day 24
Out in the Desert
Emmett wants to get better.
Therapy helps. Medication helps more. But he’s not there yet.
He has no energy for sports. He refused insulin and electroshock.
But he’ll try the saxophone.
Trouble is, Emmett can barely hold a saxophone, let alone play one.
But he wants to get better.
He’s too embarrassed to play in his apartment; he left his window open the first night.
So, Emmett went out to the desert so no one could accuse him of strangling a dead goose.
“Hot Cross Buns?”
Emmett spins. “Dr. Oppenheimer.”
“You take requests?”
“If the request is ‘stop’, then yes.”
19 notes
·
View notes
hi everyone. I think I have figured out the “real problem” in my life. I am really starting to understand myself, I think, in a new way. I understand how my entire concept of life fits well into the ideas of borderline personality disorder, codependency, fearful or anxious attachment, boundary issues, and more.
I’ve been thinking about it a lot this morning. Here is what I think is the root problem: i am literally, no hyperbole at all, clinically debilitated by my all-encompassing obsession with love.
What I mean by this is that I am so obsessed with finding a partner, attaching to a partner, stressing about a partner, discarding a partner, and starting the cycle over again that I feel I need some kind of clinical treatment, whether it’s inpatient our outpatient, whether it’s therapy or meds, or I need to join some kind of group like SLAA, whatever I can do to stop this uncontrollable issue that I have accidentally allowed to control my life for years.
I cannot stress enough that I am literally unable to experience life without these obsessions, and I see very little point in living without or outside of this cycle of romantic attachment. The advice to find a new hobby, see my friends more often, or take some time to relax by myself will never be enough—despite hanging out with people or working on a project, I will mentally be in a different place, wondering about my partner/crush or worrying about our relationship. The times are very few and far between when I am genuinely able to forget or not focus on this near-constant train of thought, and it usually happens when I am very busy or have a lot going on in some way. Even when I achieve this state, the moment that I am back to “normal” life with less demands or less concerted focus, the thoughts rush in again. And, much of the time when I am having these continuing obsessive thoughts, I genuinely believe that these thoughts are the most important thing I can focus on in my life, so I will sometimes have difficulty focusing on other stuff, participating in activities with others, or getting things done without these thoughts constantly playing in my mind.
I mean this in the most serious way possible. I am LITERALLY OBSESSED with romance and objects of affection. It sounds like I’m overexaggerating and I think that when I have become vaguely aware of this issue in the past and tried to tell people about it, it has generally been met with the assertion that I MUST be overexaggerating this in some way. And, if I’m not, then it is honestly something that seems super embarrassing to admit or talk about. But the truth is that I feel like I can’t overstate or overexaggerate the impact that this has on my life. I feel like it takes up every moment of my free time and then some, and it has ever since I was a child.
I know this issue essentially fits into all of these diagnoses and issues I’ve been experiencing and reading about, but I somehow feel that it transcends them as well. Like, THIS is the thing that makes normal aspects of life debilitating. THIS is the reason I let my boundaries fall by the wayside so easily. THIS is the reason I repeatedly find myself in situations that make no sense with what I’m actually trying to achieve. THIS is the problem. This singleminded uncontrollable OBSESSION with loving and being loved is INSANE. It is driving me actually nuts and running my life into the ground. It needs to be dealt with and it honestly cannot go on!!!!!!!!
Anyway. I feel encouraged by realizing that but I have no clue how to actually fix it. Thank you very much for reading lol.
38 notes
·
View notes
9 people I'd like to get to know better
tagged by @coutoffoli 🥰 thank you!!
last song: boy by ra ra riot!! so many albums just came out though and i haven’t had time to listen to them all the way through (new mt. joy/rks/bleachers has been on a loop!!)
fav color: turquoise
currently watching: i am very bad about watching tv if someone else doesn’t sit down with me so… roommate & i are watching will trent, tracker, and we just finished gravity falls (i had never seen)
spicy/savory/sweet: savory for sure but i will admit to a sweet tooth sometimes
relationship status: carly jackson if you’re free on wednesday i’m free on wednesday you know. if you were free
current obsessions: hockey, ofc, and i just downloaded a bunch of library books i’ve been trying to work my way through including a memory called empire!
tagging @whitenikes, @gordiemeow, @songsandswords, @hiding-from-reality-56, @husshow, @beforewecame, @acheronist, @catboy-mahura and @love-leah, plus anyone else who wants to play!! (sorry if you’ve already done it and i didn’t see)
8 notes
·
View notes