sex born poison

everything is fictional and nothing is real

[lisieux]

Today marked the beginnings of an unbearable summer. I knew the season had been biding its time before it fully showed up - the searing heat, the humidity, the dizziness - and yet, it still caught me by surprise. Today, the heat was strong enough to squeeze every sticky feeling out from every pore, slow and sticky trailing down my back like the sap from a tree on an unfortunate day.

Even if I wind down the car windows, the fumes from the diesel that overrun this country messes with my head. I’d rather die than take one more whiff of this wretched city and its smells during this season. Today is day one, and I have numerous more days to go. And numerous days on a calendar it will be as I wait for an end to this. I miss you especially during the summers, even though there is no reason to. And yet. 

[subtled]

[seungyan]

subtled:

“We’ve  always been Tohoshinki and still are. In this regard, it’s not a strange thing to sing Tohoshinki’s past songs. But if you ask us if we didn’t feel any hesitation or resistance to singing “Somebody to Love” with two of us, the answer is ‘Yes we did’. But this is our most memorable song and we’re going to cherish it. I only hope so. We’ve always been doing our best and have delivered our music with confidence. If it was 100%, we must try to go beyond 100% with two of us. I think “Somebody To Love 2011” is the answer. That’s why we thought ‘We will sing the song with pride’. I’ve always been thinking we don’t need any words. As an artist, we put all the messages into this album. That’s all that matters.

This is also what we must overcome with our determined efforts. I know some people still cannot accept a Tohoshinki of two members. I would like such people to feel the charms of past Tohoshinki and at the same time to see the new color of Tohoshinki we have forged.” — Yunho, on singing old songs and being a duo Tohoshinki.

[world-of-cats]

[lisieux]

It’s spring, summer, autumn, winter... and spring again. You move places, but close your eyes and you can feel the ghosts of events past and touches just hovering right above your skin. 

The last unbearable summer i remember was the summer of ‘13. Temperatures hit a ten year high in Seoul, and I was walking down Hongdae with sweat down my back. This year, I’m in Beijing, and the city is suffocating me with the dust and humidity and the memory of something I cannot remember. 

Even up on the 25th floor on the balcony, there is no breeze. And when no breeze passes through this city, everything gets trapped in a swirling soup of grime and wetness. You can sit very still with a cool drink and menthol cigarette hanging off your mouth on the top of the world, and sweat is still pooling around your clavicles and at the base of your beck. You can be half naked standing by the window on the 25th floor with your eyes closed thinking about the whipping winds during winter and sweat is still dripping off your chin. 

Summer draws out a depression and languidly that I’ll never understand. As opposed to the heat of passions scorching, the slow literal burn locks all the time between bodies and you never know when a good thing just ends, you never know how long it took. The back of my neck is wet. my hair is matted to my forehead, and I forgot how long I had been staring at you from the balcony. It had been a cigarette’s worth, but even then the embers had extinguished (a long time ago?). I was too caught up to notice time passing, and to remember the episodes of my painfully long and boring life. And now I wish I had a camera to remember the good present which will no doubt be slow-cooked to a bitter past. 

[yuarikim]

Talent is something you make bloom

[g-meister]

Ghost in the Shell (1995)

[osbohrns]

suddenly, i feel invincible.

[lisieux]

I dreamt of my mother one morning. I dreamt that we were fighting. I don’t remember what, and I bet in dream world, it was probably equally inconsequential and forgettable. But I remember the emotions, and in the middle of it all, I remember telling myself, wake up the fuck up, this is not real, wake up, you can get out of it. In the end, I woke up crying.

Even when we’re miles away, my mother still wraps around my head to torture me. Or is it the devil that takes her form? 

[lisieux]

The other day, in a strange turn of events, I found myself stuck in a lounge on a cruise - a darkened room lit brightly by flashing neon lights and music that reminded me of the eighties. 

Whenever I start drinking, I drink too much. And when I do, time stops. That day, I thought of you, and us, and a life that never quite made it to the end. 

Anywhere dark with loud music always reminds me of the times when you would have to lean in just to speak to me. But that day, there was no one. And I don’t know -- the memory must have faded and I realise I haven’t thought of you for a long time. Maybe it’s because it hasn’t been too warm lately in my life (it will be soon), and when it does, hopefully I will be too drunk to remember where I presently am. 

[ohxing]

[duckyhun]

♡

[lisieux]

There’s a perpetual tightness in my chest all the time from years of bracing for a loud noise, negative comment or pain for anything that I do over the years. I always joke about my nervous ticks, my anxiety and my shock at someone tapping me on the shoulder, but that’s always because I’m just waiting for a scolding still.

When I started working and had to argue my cases, my boss said my voice would get louder and louder as the argument carried on, sometimes without actually changing my point. I now realise it’s a residual habit from when I was young -- the loudest person wins.

There’s a silent, relentless meanness that trickles down and pools at the feet of all my relationships waiting to strike at disappointment. And the panic that bursts into flames when sparked from the first signs of abandonment. I would beg, but I know that ends up in a loss of dignity and no change. I would know.

I drink all the time to try and get rid of the tightness and feel a little better, but I know because I’m still hear that scolding at the back of my head, and because I secretly still yearn for my mother’s approval, that I will wake up tomorrow with that same tightness.

Some days the tightness is worse, and it makes it a little difficult to breathe and I end up screaming into toilet paper in the toilet at work, or into my pillow. But all I wish for is a giant stirring spoon down my throat and into my lungs to mix my insides up so it feels less congested. Or for my mom to end it once and for all finally.

[arctaurus-deactivated20160116]

[blackcatgirl]

[fy-sexo-exo]

[lisieux]

name: natalie star sign: leo chinese zodiac: dragon gender: female orientation: mostly straight (but we’ll talk about that another day ig) favorite color: idk i dont really have one time right now: 3:15am average hours of sleep: 6-7 lucky number: i dont think i ever had one last thing i googled: “does enrique iglesias really have a small penis” number of blankets i sleep under: one favorite fictional character: idk there are ten million different fictional people from tv/movies/books/cartoons that i’ve liked but maybe veronica lodge from riverdale - she was truly an inspiration (except when it came to settling for archie) favorite band/artist: maybe bjork dream job: i want to be listed as a “close source” or “insider” in a-lister hollywood-related stories

[choodraws]

you can not