Go wherever you want to go
You can take me to the greatest unknowns
As long as I am in your heart” —Shadow Man by STVN
Hello. I think that it’s time that I acknowledge everyone who comments, likes, reblogs, and even sends in asks.
And... I have a story/personal note from me. Scroll until you hit bold if that’s what you wanna read.
First of all, thank you all for supporting me. I want you to know that I read, and I hear all of you—every one of your asks, reviews, comments, and questions.
Are you still working on Don’t Touch Me?
Yes... slowly. I’m so glad you like it, but I’m struggling to find the will to write right now ;)) thanks for your patience
Can I reference Don’t Touch Me in my own fanfics?
Sure thing ;)) I’m honored that you want to do that. Just please don’t write anything that implies future events/changes the plot I wrote so far.
I love delinquent Akko! Are you going to do more of it?
I’m currently not planning anything, but I can throw something together if you’d like~
I hope you’re doing well, are you alright??
TW: SUICIDE/DEATH, read now at your own discretion
Dear readers/followers/LWA community,
I’m writing this mostly because a couple people have told me that I seem a bit unapproachable nowadays, a little bit more difficult to understand. And... I figured that if you really want to be let into my world, then I’d offer you the chance right now. Read ahead if you can handle the aforementioned theme.
If you’ve seen the other posts on my blog, you might already know that I’ve been struggling with suicidal thoughts for awhile now. Currently, there’s nothing extreme, nothing too wrong in my personal life... I am tired. For this reason, I put DTM and art on a hold, though you might’ve seen a couple depressing one-shots on AO3.
At 3:00pm yesterday, I closed my laptop, and I went and laid on the floor. Why? I have no idea, it just felt right. Now that I think about it, I might’ve been trying to get in touch with my surroundings. Perhaps I was trying to feel “alive”.
At around 3:40pm, I stood up and checked my phone. There were no new messages, and so I closed my eyes and looked at the wall. Without realizing it, my gaze had shifted to the shiny, metal knob of my house’s basement door.
I walked downstairs, dragging my feet against the rough texture of the carpet with each step. I then found myself standing in front of that wooden cabinet. I stared at it for a few moments before moving to curl my fingers around its thin handles. What I expected was the solid, antagonistic feeling of the cabinet refusing to budge against the weak force of my arms.
The light hit the painted wood of the hunting rifles meant to pierce feathers rather than human skin. I stood still for a couple minutes, and then I reached for the one my father most frequently used. I kept laughing to myself. Who would just leave a cabinet full of firearms unlocked? So irresponsible. What were they thinking? It would be bad if something were to happen. What if someone got ahold of these?
That didn’t matter. I noticed a small container of bullets peeking out from the shadows of the cabinet. There was ammunition available.
The rifle found its way into my hands. It was heavier than I expected. My eyes skimmed over the length of the neck. They swept from the barrel to the trigger. A rough estimation told me that it would be incredibly difficult to shoot myself from an angle. Given the length of my arms, I would likely end up giving myself a non-lethal injury. But... maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try.
I put the gun back, handling it gently as if it were more fragile than I was. When I checked my phone, I read through a message that a friend had sent me, asking for a favor. Figuring that I needed to help her out, I decided that today was just not my day. I wonder if she knows that she just saved a life.
However I did not close the cabinet doors immediately. The curiosity inside me begged to admire the firearms just a little longer. So I did, I indulged myself. But what I didn’t expect was to burst into tears. Uncontrollable, ugly sobbing. A hyperventilating that only one person could control. Faint pats of those tears slinking down my face, which was probably twisted into some sort of ugly expression, and hitting the floor below.
I turned, wiped my face, and continued on with my day.
Thanks for visiting my... rant? Vent?? I hope that... if you felt like I was distant or carelessly abandoning my work or... if you just wanted to be a little closer to me or my head... that this gave you some insight on me and who I am..? I’m not sure. I am struggling. But to everyone out there who’s also fighting suicidal thoughts, you better know that you sure as hell aren’t alone.
I wrote “today is just not my day” on a slip of paper yesterday evening.
So don’t let today be your day.
jacobvanloon
blakekathryn
areudirty
theartofmadeline
vaporwave
gummygunk
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