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@ionvin-blog
2, 4, 24, 57
questions: leehojeongg
↳ accepting ✓
2. Are you outgoing or shy?
Neither.
4. Are you easy to get along with?
Depends.
24. Favorite part of your daily routine?
Enjoying a cup of earl grey after finishing my work.
57. Favourite food?
I have none.
25 - 30
questions: joonpapi
↳ accepting ✓
25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?
My hands.
26. What do you do when you wake up?
Thinking, mostly.
27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?
Neither.
28. Who are you most comfortable around?
I suppose myself.
29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?
I have none.
30. Do you ever want to get married?
Never thought about it.
Lunar Orbit, Trans-Earth Coast [x]
My whole being is a dark chant–
Forugh Farrokhzad, ‘Another Birth’ (via plathisms)
“Wow, you look like shit today.”
six-word sentences : necvratu
↳ no longer accepting ✗
he resists to lash a comeback, sharp reply to contradict the male’s snide tongue, knowing that he’s only speaking the truth of his state. his skin pastier than ever—almost translucent in an unearthly way. his throat are dry and the rattle and chill of his bones seemingly distracts his own sanity and ability to spill his thoughts. he’s raking in pain, postponing his answer as he settles on the couch instead. “i haven’t eaten in a while, i can’t even speak well..” the tremor in his voice are visible and he can’t help but to breathe in clear. diminishing his faith that a foolish lad like him can deny the indisputable hunger crawling under his skin. an abomination, bloodlust creation by the all mighty himself, tragic and ironic for conclusion. “i was a fool for thinking i could hold it in.”
“ you weren’t there! i needed you! ”
six-word sentences : opusmrtm
↳ accepting ✓
a natural dependence as he so recalls it. he can sense the anger that build, betrayal at its peak. it’s a more or so question by now, whether or not he’s willing to tell the reason behind. he slips in pause between their small talk. stale if he may add, knowing that the other always seek some sort of atonement for his sake. “i was busy.” to concoct an explanation wouldn’t be the right thing to do, so he stands on the short one while a diminutive spark that lights the dark, shining the tip of his cigarette. then a few taps, following ashes that descend as thick cancerous smoke burns his nostrils. he stares at him, brows lifted while his spare hand retracts to his side. “you didn’t get in trouble, did you?”
"just try to guess the answer"
six-word sentences : charretier
↳ accepting ✓
riddles are the reason why he halts his movements; a pause with silence slithering in an amiable tempo. no matter how elusive and torturous it is, karma always knows the end of each one. it rattles his brains, relishes the excitement that rush through set of inexplicable impressions. yearning the satisfaction, he concludes and thinks once more, tongue repeating in whispered airs, jolting his senses awake. “so— a man is found dead on a sunday morning. his wife calls the police immediately. the police question the wife and staff. the wife said she was asleep, the cook said he was cooking breakfast, the gardener said she was picking vegetables, the butler said he was cleaning the closet, and the maid said she was getting the post. the police immediately arrested the murderer. who was the murderer?” in reverse, he settles with a collected tone, enamored by the truth. “it was, the maid because there’s no post on sundays.”
"i called and you didn't answer."
six-word sentences : luxeras
↳accepting ✓
it’s not that he’s doing it on purpose, albeit he has to admit that the fault is true. even the view of the male’s crestfallen features somehow lead him to remain in space. he’s still struggling with the mess, the ratio of feelings, the primary essence of being human. unknowingly, the guilt already finds its way to alter his gaze. unable to look at him in the eye, he’s losing words to spill, sentences to form, even the ability to be true. his mind whirring for a brief lapse, decades of living in flesh and bone still doesn’t bound him. he’s still awkward and ghastly—each nerve screams the words of betrayal and he feels his lungs enhancing tighter, tighter, tighter. it never ends. but as far as his conscience concerned, he’s on his way to feel, to act and be more human. “sorry— i was busy with work. is everything alright?”
a note: i hate you more than anything.
there’s a tiny pause as he rereads the note, spare digits swiftly loosening his red tie with eyes remain fixed for a few intervals. the coal haired male then proceeds to thumb down the white space of the paper before using the back of his pen to tap on it repeatedly; explaining the constant clicking noise following behind. not so surprised at the other’s way of mockery judging of how he’s always been fond of such thing ever since their first encounter. writing his reply almost immediate, he tips his head to side with a wan smile across his stark features; amused and certain. “and i adore you more, dad”.
“ frankly speaking, i wanna give up. ”
six-word sentences : kyxngsx
↳ accepting ✓
the disheartened reply etches an upturned curve line across Karma’s lips, and sets his attention back to the male before him; gaze remain monotonous and sharp. for certain, it’s not his first time witnessing the downfall of others, it’s an inevitable moment to avoid. calloused fingertips trailing along the cancer stick, jesting his way, he tosses it on the ground with dirty soiled boots crushing the burning tip. it’s a hassle, he’s not too fond of the rain and the smell of damp dirt invading his lungs. nonetheless, he’s in a momentum where the line of being human are far too thin for him to abuse. a deep, collected voice soon rumbling off his throat, fallen bangs over his vision while he draws in a lengthy breath, velvety muscle gliding over his bottom plush mindlessly. “give up?— that doesn’t sound like you.”
six-word sentences.
“ frankly speaking, i wanna give up. ”
“ they love me cause i’m hot. ”
“ just try to guess the answer. ”
“ everyone here knows you don’t care. ”
“ fine, do things your way. ”
“ i want to be in love. ”
“ no, i would rather make money. ”
“ shut up already, i’m not going. ”
“ because you said that, fuck you! ”
“ i hate you more than anything. ”
“ just sit down? let me explain? ”
“ can i be a little nasty? ”
“ there’s nothing wrong with being sexual. ”
“ i want you to like me. ”
“ don’t you dare lie to me. ”
“ i’m way too scared to fall. ”
“ terrified of my love for you? ”
“ we were both afraid, shut up. ”
“ it wasn’t anyone’s fault. not really. ”
“ life’s too short to care anymore. ”
“ i dreamt about you last night. ”
“ really? what did you dream about? ”
“ i dreamt you chose me instead. ”
“ how did you become like this? ”
“ this isn’t any of your business. ”
“ i’m losing my mind, losing control. ”
“ you weren’t there! i needed you! ”
“ please don’t start with me, okay? ”
“ why do you always leave me? ”
“ this is all we have left. ”
“ i turned around. you were gone. ”
“ all i can think about is you. ”
“ wow, you look like shit today. ”
“ i called and you didn’t answer. ”
“ i wanna be a child forever. ”
“ today, my love is in mourning. ”
“ your words felt like sharp knives. ”
“ say something nice or don’t speak. ”
— the [d]evil . doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns He comes as everything you’ve ever wished for '
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I routinely descend into abysmal depths, am far from land, secretive.
Helen Farish, from ‘Mesoplodon Pacifus’, Intimates (via soracities)
Details of Portraits by Franz Xaver Winterhalter