It Ain’t Easy Being Green

He/They // Movin Right Along // 28 // Tumbl’n since 2011

[romanceyourdemons]

when you’re mean to me this is literally who you’re being mean to *image of me perched atop a throne of human skulls on a cliff above the ocean, howling wind and shrieking seagulls, and the dream goes on forever, one single static frame*

[stuckinapril]

(me ever since I was 12) okay I actually need to get it together now

[scissorsaint]

nice wound. Could use some salt though

[aroace-ryland-grace]

the sewing machine is like if a horse and an inkjet printer had a child

[smoqueen-deactivated20251108]

im actually cleft in twain right now can i call you back

[hellagross]

[dusk-daydreams]

Phone in bed has stolen so much valor from the real hero of our generation: laptop in bed.

[paper-wounds]

[treasuredplanet]

I think that when you're overstimulated you should appear kind of grayed out and no one should be able to interact with you like a locked character in a video game

[dusk-daydreams]

Need to get diagnosed, need to get medicated, need to get my act together and stop letting my executive dysfunction and compulsions stall my life.

[dusk-daydreams]

Was casually scrolling and came across a photo of some wolves and one had similar markings and coloring as my parents husky that had to be put down bc of some serious and unexpected health stuff a month ago and now I’m once again weeping for my girl. I wish I had given her even 5 more minutes of attention the last time I saw her when I was visiting them for Christmas. She was a good dog.

[machinot]

Scientists have found that if you get 8 hours of sleep and are still tired during the day it’s because your soul is cursed and your body doesn’t think you deserve happiness. There is no cure or treatment

[dusk-daydreams]

Help I’m listening to catholic hymns casually

[dusk-daydreams]

February is the worst month for me, every year. It’s been dark for months already, it’s cold as hell, I have no creative energy, work is all consuming, I end my days feeling so exhausted and near tears and all of my worst feelings of despair and self sabotage come in full force.

It’s like a disease. I’ve been diagnosed with February. In 8 weeks I will feel so much better and have hope again.

And before anyone comes at me being like “Oi Leo that sounds a lot like seasonal affective disorder” - shhh. I know that. I am taking Steps and Precautions, but it still sucks very much.

[veinings]

[lunchboxpoems]

WHAT RESEMBLES THE GRAVE BUT ISN’T

Always falling into a hole, then saying “ok, this is not your grave, get out of this hole,” getting out of the hole which is not the grave, falling into a hole again, saying “ok, this is also not your grave, get out of this hole,” getting out of that hole, falling into another one; sometimes falling into a hole within a hole, or many holes within holes, getting out of them one after the other, then falling again, saying “this is not your grave, get out of the hole”; sometimes being pushed, saying “you can not push me into this hole, it is not my grave,” and getting out defiantly, then falling into a hole again without any pushing; sometimes falling into a set of holes whose structures are predictable, ideological, and long dug, often falling into this set of structural and impersonal holes; sometimes falling into holes with other people, with other people, saying “this is not our mass grave, get out of this hole,” all together getting out of the hole together, hands and legs and arms and human ladders of each other to get out of the hole that is not the mass grave but that will only be gotten out of together; sometimes the willful-falling into a hole which is not the grave because it is easier than not falling into a hole really, but then once in it, realizing it is not the grave, getting out of the hole eventually;  sometimes falling into a hole and languishing there for days, weeks, months, years, because while not the grave very difficult, still, to climb out of and you know after this hole there’s just another and another; sometimes surveying the landscape of holes and wishing for a high quality final hole; sometimes thinking of who has fallen into holes which are not graves but might be better if they were; sometimes too ardently contemplating  the final hole while trying to avoid the provisional ones; sometimes dutifully falling and getting out, with perfect fortitude, saying “look at the skill and spirit with which I rise from that which resembles the grave but isn’t!“ 

ANNE BOYER

[sioltach]

An average sunday night will have you wondering why horrible things happen