unlikelytragedyofbones

[unlikelytragedyofbones]

Miss Piggy

Men want her. Women want to be her. Children befriend her but their parents fear her. Doctors hate her and police officers’ heads explode in her presence.

Scientific consensus on her nature and origins has not been reached.

Authorities warn civilians to stay away from her and report any sightings immediately.

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*uses the seance as an excuse to hold your hand*

[unlikelytragedyofbones]

thinking about how good friendship is…..like two people just like each other….and choose over and over to spend time with each other……quite special how diverse human relationships are..every friendship is special and u cant be close friends with everybody…..for some unknown reason certain people just enjoy each other..and i think we take for granted how fantastic that is

[unlikelytragedyofbones]

MBTI Mysterycore Aesthetics

ISTJ: lab coats and autopsies of the not-quite-human, rows of silver file cabinets, footsteps echoing down cavernous sterile hallways, humming tape recorders, unintelligible whispers from inside the walls. 

ESTJ: dark trench coats and black coffee,  “What we need is evidence,” polaroids on cork board, caution tape, untraceable phone calls, flickering street lights, skepticism,  secret meetings in rainy alleyways.

INFP: black highways stretching into the night, screech-owl calls, baggy brown flannels,  ominous religious billboard,  unexplained cases of arson, a great once-buried force now rising from the earth.

ENFP: off-limit areas in state parks,  rings of glowing mushrooms, cabins filled with faded maps and unsettling taxidermy, caves lined with crystals, walkie talkies, the silhouette of unidentifiable antlers.

ISTP: ominous  cable towers stretching into a blood red sunset, picking locks, beat up converse and scraped knuckles, trespassing in abandoned factories and finding secret tunnels connecting the town.

ESTP: missing person newspaper headlines,  the feeling of being watched in a fluorescent midnight diner, summer storms, shady local politicians with greasy smiles, novelty ties, and bloody secrets. 

ESFJ:  bicycles with baskets, befriending loners who see ghosts, pep-talks and first aid kits, bouquets in graveyards, Ouija board sleepovers, lying hand-in-hand on a blanket  stargazing for signs of UFOs. 

ISFJ: secret treehouses where time is just a little different, shoe-boxes full of old coins no one can identify, saddle shoes, pinkie promises,  rescuing strange animals you found by the train tracks 

INTJ: specimens in formaldehyde and stolen classified documents, telepathic abilities, government surveillance, erasing your old identity, knowing too much, hiding out in a lighthouse until the time is right.

ENTJ: letterman jackets and restlessness, dreaming of flying, meteor crashes, taking home pieces of glowing space debris, calling the press,  “Don’t you understand! This could change everything!”

ISFP:  charcoal sketches of shadowy figures, porcelain dolls, sleepwalking into abandoned buildings, prophetic dreams, cornfields at midnight, attic rooms visible only to you,  “ No one ever believes me.”

ESFP:  eerie late August carnivals, fucking with things that absolutely should not be fucked with and then getting tempted by dark forces, chaotic split-lip grins, breaking curses, standing your ground. 

INFJ: boarded-up Victorian houses consumed by ivy,  gardens of poisonous plants, typewriter keys and piles of unread manuscripts, knowing all of this has happened before, taking secrets to the grave. 

ENFJ: spiral notepads and yellow pencils behind the ear, interviewing local hermits, speaking up at town hall meetings, justice for the restless dead,  making powerful enemies of faceless men in dark suits.

INTP: ‘70s science fiction paperbacks and striped tee-shirts, clay models of alien spacecraft, broken glasses, chalkboard equations, creaking swingset chains,  strange spinning lights above the suburbs. 

ENTP:  abandoned hospitals and EMF meters, notebooks filled with illegible equations, knowing everyone else in town calls you crazy, esoteric texts in dead languages,  portals to other dimensions.

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listen buddy you’re the one that had to go and make this about feet,,,,,,,,,,,

Society: this trait is ugly and unappealing!

Me: oh yeah buddy? check this out *romanticizes it*

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Society: this trait is ugly and unappealing!

Me: oh yeah buddy? check this out *romanticizes it*

[unlikelytragedyofbones]

Considering the number of secret societies I started in primary school I have should been leading the Illuminati by now. I feel cheated.

[unlikelytragedyofbones]

Lets say, hypothetically, my lover's got humor..... and for the sake of debate... lets say, she's the giggle at a funeral.

[unlikelytragedyofbones]

Types of People: a Group of Small Town Ghost-hunters

The Medium: Has been talking to ghosts since childhood, big round glasses and long cardigan sweater sleeves that cover their hands, wispy hair, has trouble feeling connected to the physical world, speaks rarely and softly, highly empathetic, receives messages in dreams, nurses animals back to health, reads the energy of spaces through touch, often sick and suffers frequent headaches, an easy target for malicious spirits,  sweet and spacey but also sort of creepy,  all of the others in the gang work to protect them, the only person The Skeptic has a soft spot for. 

The Chronicler: deep forest green sweaters over flannel collars, brown corduroys, terrible posture, sends stories off to pulp sci-fi and magazines but almost never gets published, hopes a true paranormal story will be their big break, dopey omnidirectional romantic that flirts awkwardly, clumsy, always knocking over vases/bookshelves, desperate for The Mad Scientist’s approval,  annoys people by comparing stuff to fictional hauntings but their literary knowledge saves them in the end, makes puns at inopportune times, huge nerd,  most likely to fall in love with a ghost. 

The Local Detective: red scarves and black peacoats, always pushing hair out of their face, strong-willed, no-nonsense with eldest sibling energy, unspoken leader, knows intergenerational levels of town gossip and lore, has been friends with The Medium since basically infancy, believes in truth and justice, determined to find answers to questions that haunt their family, the first up the ladder into the spooky attic, superstitious, precise, spends a lot of time going through old newspaper clippings,lots of friends but has trouble getting close to people emotionally, gives a hell of a pep-talk. 

The Skeptic: black lace up boots and tight leather jackets, angsty attitude and floppy hair, reluctantly along for the ride, probably somebody’s bored younger sibling or cousin, sarcastic and prickly, eye-roll city,  tries to sabotage investigations to prove a point, will antagonize ghosts deliberately, loves to start arguments with Local Detective, tends to get trapped in secret rooms with The Liability, has a lot of unresolved issues they refuse to confront until forced to by paranormal circumstances, symbolic self-discovery, probably ends up breaking a curse that saves everybody.

The Liability: striped polo shits under fleece-lined denim jackets, never not wearing a hat, scuffed converse sneakers, incapable of taking things seriously or considering consequences, does dumb daredevil stunts to impress their crush, touches everything, gives all the ghosts goofy nicknames, best friends with the Chronicler- who they view as needing to get out more often, will totally just pick up a clearly cursed item and take it home, second most likely to get possessed after The Medium, intensely loyal despite all their bullshit, would sacrifice themselves to save the group.

 The Mad Scientist:  grey blazers and silver watches, spiral notebooks in shirt pockets, oxford shoes, aspires to revolutionize science by proving the existence of the paranormal, uncommonly and undeniably bright, biology and particle physics knowledge but also knack for practical gadgets, keeps bugs in jars, always carrying around beeping recording equipment,   jazzed about things that should be horrifying, lingers too long in creepy locations because they’re busy collecting samples of something, pines hard for The Local Detective but lacks the confidence to articulate it.

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LATE -SUMMER GOTHIC AESTHETICS vibes for the loamy waning of this bright season

Roadtrip Burnout: Bloodshot eyes, flickering neon motel signs, aviator sunglasses, magic 8 balls, recurrent dreams of grey aliens, beaded curtains, dusty denim and incense smoke,  sepia desert vistas, playlists of 1960s rock songs, coded messages in television static, comets in the night sky, fake IDs, gas station snacks, Jesus bobble heads, split lips, patchouli,  paranoia between friends. 

Southern Cemetery: Magnolia blossoms, chipping white porch swings, Spanish moss, suffocating humidity, faded photographs of lacy weddings, tire tracks in mud, mausoleum angels, family trees, the yellow-green eyes of alligators, repressed childhood memories bubbling to the surface, broken porcelain dolls, legs covered with mosquito bites, blood promises, crucifixes and barbed wire. 

Interdimensional Park Ranger: The yellow eyeshine of an unseen animal, circling turkey vultures, unnatural fluctuations in the passage of time, daddy long legs in rotting logs, distorted backwards speech through a walkie-talkie, unexplainable antler shrines, coniferous mountain horizons, star-like bonfire sparks whirling in an indigo night, nests of infant barn owls, claw marks in tent fabric. 

Haunted Boardwalk: Rickety Ferris wheels, carnival lights through fog, saltwater taffy and tarot card readings, childhood best-friends, thunderstorms over the sea, tear-streaked face paint, chipping animatronics partially submerged in brackish water, ill-fated games of truth or dare, vintage circus posters boasting mermaids and wolfmen, underwater caves marked with a skulls and crossbones. 

[unlikelytragedyofbones]

Reblog if you want anons.

[unlikelytragedyofbones]

Consider this: our deep fascination for old things. The effect that ancient objects and buildings have on us, especially when we discover them by ourselves. I mean, the feeling you get when you find a book from the 19th century in an empty library? The intimacy of touching such an ancient thing so carefully? The mysticism of walking through a silent cathedral just like people did five centuries ago? The smell of 1500 years of history emanating from every wall in Hagia Sophia? The effort in imagining how the Roman Forum or Machu Picchu originally looked like? Don't even get me started on mummies or graveyards oh my i am crying rn

[unlikelytragedyofbones]

bitches will be like “i love animals” but hate themselves…… you are an animal girl. <3 love yourself. peace on planet earht 

[unlikelytragedyofbones]

you’ve heard of existential dread and existential horror, now get ready for existential peace, which is that feeling when you stare up at the nightsky and think, “huh. i exist. that’s pretty neat.”

[unlikelytragedyofbones]

[unlikelytragedyofbones]

good morning notes app poets, lesbian intellectuals, self-loathing americans, art school dropouts, brown eye supremacists, robert pattinson stans, hunter-gatherers, spiritual neophytes, sourdough addicts, false prophets, and bisexuals with a preference for men

[unlikelytragedyofbones]

peak fantasy environment designs:

floaty islands

glowing mushrooms

bigger versions of normal animals

animalistic dragons

deep, sentient forests

sky/space whales