#writing to heal?

[burrowkit]

Alright, chasing metaphorical(?) personal demons and throwing them into a story. Wish me luck.

I don't think I'll finish it/post it anywhere, but I'm hoping it'll help me feel better about my past.

It was... a strange dream last night, with no ending. So I kind of want to write it out so I can see the end so I know things are okay?

Like, I walked into my 6th grade class, and every guy that bullied me (but one) in grades 8-9 (10-12 ish too) was there. And it was cause the one that wasn't there turned into a supernatural being and decided he wanted to turn us all into supernatural beings (thinking he could control us?) as a way to get back at us all.

Supposedly, the rest of them cut him off, I think? And I was his favourite victim I guess...

Anyways, it was weird.

The plus sides were that I was a vamp werewolf siren mash up and that was kind of cool, unlocking different supernatural sides. Not so fun was being stung by a jellyfish (and the tentacle stringer turned into a fish hook somehow).

I'm clearly not over stuff from over a decade ago, but anyways, hopefully that means progress is being made??? idk.

I don't think I could post it anywhere because it actually involves real people who I am actually still afraid of.

As I said, the best part of the nightmare was that I was unlocking different abilities and having fun with that.

Edit to clarify, in this, I'm obviously changing names because it's too weird to make them continue to exist as real people, but anyways

[lilydrafts]

Love yourself a little extra right now. You're creating the life of your dreams and you absolutely deserve it. It's about to get magical for you.

[feral-ballad]

Joy Sullivan, from Instructions for Traveling West: Poems; “Howl”

[pink-heart-writes]

[drgnflyteabox]

Fem!reader x 141

Honestly might be able to to something with the gross stuff I saw at the hardware store I used to work at (except make it hot and 141)

Imagine you're a cashier, the only one with early morning availability so you're there at 5:45am for the 6am start. It's always the worst kinds of contractors there: rude, tired, dirty, leering gazes and sexist comments

You're pretty sick of it, but you get paid a bit more than minimum wage and you're done by 11am so, you take it with a cheery smile and fast service

The 141 contracting company starts spending at your store. So much, in fact, that your manager personally takes you aside to mention just how much they do - nearly a million a year - and how no matter what, your job is to be nice and please them

Well, you can do that. You've dealt with crazy, awful old contractors screaming in your face about lumber prices at 6:30am more than once, heard them talking about your tit's or your ass right in front of you - you can handle it

Until the masked one comes in first and hes huge, dark hoodie and cargo pants hanging low on his hips. He hands you 3k in bills only there are bloodstains on them and he watches you closely the whole time you count them out

It's... not a first, but the look he gives you makes you shiver. Pale eyelashes, tall, intimidating

The second is nicer. Too nice, in fact. He charms you before you're even fully awake, and your shift goes by quickly thinking about that winning smile and the way he'd touched your fingers while he handed you a stack of bills... not to mention those soft brown eyes

The third is... intense, for 8am. He rolls on the balls of his feet, stares at you harder than the masked one. He offers to buy you a hot chocolate at the coffee shop next door and grins like you made a joke when you decline

Their boss is fucking dreamy. Even you have to admit it, trying not to look up at his mustached, frankly porno-esque face. He's huge, as tall as the others but thick, with a little pudge around his belly. He trudges in with thick workboots and a stained t shirt, pays for 24k worth of material with a lazy smile on his face like it's nothing

You might ask head cash to move you to the garden center after all...

[leonardospoetry]

Be grateful for every single stage of life. Especially the ones that break you open.

[dreamgirljune]

yes yes characters doomed by the narrative always slap BUT what about characters saved by the narrative? characters who have already given up hope and don't know they have a happy ending? characters who believe they are a lost cause, characters who feel irredeemable, characters who think there's nothing left for them, but the narrative does provide a way out? what about the characters who don't expect anything good, who don't even remember how to wish for it anymore, who get the things they need anyway? what about the characters who actively run from being saved getting saved in a way they can't stop or control. what about being saved by the narrative!!!

[novasintheroom]

Ghost who, under “orders” from his army therapist (and with Price’s encouragement), starts looking around for hobbies when he’s on leave.

Not sure what to do at first. Tries gaming but gets bored of it and the PS4 stays gathering dust in his flat. Plants don’t appeal to him because he won’t be around enough to take care of them. Thinks about knitting, but is a bit too embarrassed to walk into the local craft shop to start making doilies.

Finally goes to the library after seeing a flyer advertising a painting class and thinks, “Hell, why not.”

Shows up in his hoodie, black face mask, and black baseball cap. Gives most of the old ladies attending the painting session a good scare

Until he rolls up his sleeves to avoid getting paint on his good hoodie. Then those old ladies are ogling his forearms and the tattoos painting his skin.

Is very attentive to the hired artist leading the session. Hasn’t got an artistic bone in his body, but dammit, he’s going to report back to his therapist that he tried if it’s the last thing he does.

Two little old ladies, Mrs. Levine and Ruby, pluck up the courage to sit beside him and start chatting him up. Compliments his painting, talk about their grandkids, how one of Ruby’s grandsons is into heavy metal (assuming Ghost is as well). Ghost listens half-heartedly, just trying to get the brown right for the deer he’s putting on paper. They manage to weasel out his name:

“Simon,” he announces gruffly.

“Oh, what a good name,” Mrs. Levine says.

He goes to the next activity as well: polymer clay creations. His hands are big and meaty and he has to take more clay than is probably reasonable to make the little pig he’s got going.

Mrs. Levine and Ruby are there too and sit right next to him to chat with him again. They love his idea of a pig and make a cow and sheep to go with it. When the hired artist comes around to see how everyone’s doing, Mrs. Levine announces that the three of them “have a little farm going” and that “Simon’s the farmhand.”

He's glad he's got his face mask on. He can feel his ears going red at the look the artist gives him.

Again, he’s very attentive to the hired artist, watching her hands carve into the soft clay with her nails to get texture on her dinosaur. He tries to do the same, giving whispy little hairs to his pig. It’s not pretty, but he feels a smidge better about going when it’s all done.

Mrs. Levine and Ruby get more information out of him as time goes on and he attends more activities. Soon their friends join in on the conversation, and Ghost – Simon – is well-known at the library for being the military guy who attends every Saturday when he’s not deployed. The little old ladies love him, even if he “doesn’t say much.” He’s helped them carry their bags of books and crafts to their cars, listens to them prattle on about activities and their aches and pains, and even scared off some hooligans who were trying to disrupt their library activity.

(They’ve all got little old lady crushes on this big man who takes time out of his day to better himself, and they love his dry/dad jokey humor)

(And he won't admit it, but these are his little old ladies now. Clarice brought him brownies that he absolutely devoured when he got back to his flat they were so good, and he can't help but laugh at how often they try to set him up with their granddaughters. And how they "trip" often just to hang on to his big arms. Birds are birds, no matter their age.)

[mournfulroses]

A. R. Ammons, from a poem titled "Shot Glass," featured in The New Yorker

[histhoughtslately]

When love finds you again, I wish for you that is kind, gentle, loving, peaceful and tranquil. May it make you smile again, laugh often, dance like no one’s watching, and support your true self without condition.

[ccomelantartidee]

“Too well tangled”🤍

[thingswedontunbox]

[lilydrafts]

A toxic environment will likely change you more than you change it. So get out.

[feral-ballad]

Maya C. Popa, from Wound is the Origin of Wonder: Poems: “All inner life runs at some delay”

[astrosouldivinity]

𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧-𝐎𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧! 🎉✨👸🏿

As we enter the holiday season, let’s uplift and support the amazing and talented Black women-owned businesses in our communities. Each purchase not only helps give back but also celebrates the incredible creativity and resilience within the community.

🔗 Share websites, social media, or shop links! Feel free to reblog and spread the word. Let’s build a space where we can support and uplift one another. ☺️

🌟𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐩 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥, 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐩 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞🌟

From handmade crafts to unique gifts, if you’re searching for the ideal holiday gift this season or the perfect present for your loved ones or treating yourself, you’re in the right place.

I’ll start, my name is Kiki. I’m an astrologist, psychic, healer & artist. From personalized birth chart readings to beautiful art pieces, each creation is infused with love and intention. 💜✨

My Etsy shop is currently undergoing renovations but it will be reopening in the near future!

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 🔮✨📖 (𝙾𝚙𝚎𝚗)

𝐌𝐲 𝐀𝐫𝐭 ~

𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐬: 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜, 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚜, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚓𝚊𝚛𝚜, & 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎!

𝚃𝚒𝚙 𝙹𝚊𝚛 🫙🙏🏿

𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝙹𝚊𝚛𝚜

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

[iambrillyant]

“walking down your authentic path can be one of the loneliest roads to travel on because the longer you’re on it, the more you realize that only a select few will be compatible with who you are with no mask on.”

— billy chapata