Sillymoose

stuff for sillymeeses, she/her, lover of puns & whimsy

[loverblaze]

inside out if it was filmed in my head:

[titsay]

isolation

[fairyinthetrees]

doing a line of hope just to get by

[livelovelaugh-777]

[punkedupfaerie]

my back hurts all the time bc of my fairy wings. you just cant see them bc you have no whimsy

[catboypvnkie]

I love carbs I love pasta and bread and potatoes what would like Be without carbs

[catboypvnkie]

where would we Be without her.

[importantcatpics]

@importantcatpics

[elizabethsillymoose]

Petrichor

There is laundry waiting in the corner,

and grief impatient beside it.

And emails. Dishes. Errands ad nauseam.

I attempt exhausted calculations

of deciding which needs

must remain unmet until "tomorrow."

What can wait just a tiny bit longer?

"Tomorrow" has become

a very crowded place.

Sometimes, probably too often,

I imagine dissolving.

Not dying. I don't have time to die.

And I couldn't do that to my dog.

Just becoming rain

for an afternoon.

Something without decisions.

Without a sore spine

everyone expects to remain upright.

My body keeps speaking a language

I keep pretending I don't understand.

The jaw that won't unclench.

The shoulders trying to become ears.

The shallow breath

that never believes

the next one is coming.

Every muscle holding a meeting

I forgot how to adjourn.

I wonder what version of me exists

beneath all this bracing.

If she is still there.

If she remembers how to laugh

without holding back the snort she hates.

"Glad" still comes to visit.

"Happy" is an old friend I've lost touch with.

I hope we can reconcile when the ceiling

stops threatening to introduce itself to the floor.

Tomorrow,

I will wake before my strength does.

I will lace responsibility

back through my ribs,

lift another impossible morning,

and pray it feels lighter than it is.

None of the "tomorrow" tasks will get done,

and by afternoon, or even just 9:30,

I'll wish I was rain again.

[johnnysilverhandssuitcasenuke]

[amwult]

my least favourite turn based strategy game is email

[stahsm]

Overlock Stitch by @clothes_reetzy

[thatisuseful]

Damn, that's useful

[fluidstatick]

Finally a hand sewing tutorial on a hemline that isn't just the ladder stitch! the ladder stitch disappears when you tighten it, but it's not meant for hemlines because it breaks really easily! The overlock stitch is more stable, so it holds much longer, and it won't pucker or warp the fabric!

[watsdaughter]

tags by @gallusrostromegalus

[teaboot]

OH HELL THE FUCK YES

[aftertherainstopss]

I hope you never outgrow being excited by bookstores, listening to the rain, flowers and finding the perfect mug.

[rubyvroom]

[rubyvroom]

Yeah, it's time to get this post out again

[botherbug]

source

[pomgore]

i love learning about animals ive literally never seen or heard of before. what amazing diversity of life on this planet earth. what the hell is a japanese serow

[pomgore]

goat dog

[elizabethsillymoose]

Anchor, Fractured

The soft glow of the lamps,

tissue box placed within reach,

precisely positioned pillows.

A sacred space where people can fall apart,

knowing she will hold the pieces.

She is a container, a guardian, glue.

Her voice knows how to temper itself

into something comforting and present.

She has practiced the art of receiving storms

without getting swept into them.

A lighthouse, noticing the tiny tells

of where to press, or where it's still too tender.

Inside, however,

her own thoughts pace in tight circles.

Each shuddered breath feels too loud.

She traces the contours of her shortcomings.

Imperfections magnified by an unkind mind,

deafening,

even over the white noise machine outside the office door.

She wonders if there is anyone to catch her

when she falls.

She tries to remind herself that she exists.

That she is not just a listening device,

doesn't only have value by serving others.

Yet, she can't seem to turn it off.

Her heart can't help but bleed

for everyone she encounters.

"There is enough harshness in the world,"

she thinks, "so I must remain gentle."

Not because she is unbroken,

but because she understands the shape of breaking.

So she holds space,

again and again and again.

[lipsredxasarose]

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