Tag Yourself as Aesthetics I resonate with
Changelingcore: Broken or misshapen wings on insects, lizards with missing tails, hastily picked wildflowers in empty glass bottles, catching tadpoles in the creek, pretending to have a tail or wings, making up vast and complex stories for no one, accepting what makes you different, knowing what to say but not knowing how to say it, the lingering mist in the air after it rains, playing pretend in the woods, wet shoes from running through the grass, searching for fairies, heavy coats and transparent rain ponchos, the feeling of moss and bark under your fingertips, collection of strange trinkets and trivial objects, not being afraid of what people normally fear, being a fan of the unusual, taking your stuffed animals on adventures with you, doodling on your skin and clothes, busy hands and legs, clunky rainboots and muck boots, wading knee deep into a dark lake and screaming into the air to ease frustration, cloud gazing while lying in a beached rowboat, organizing and reorganizing your treasures, reading books with complicated words, arts and crafts, stimming, getting lost in your fantasy world, bird calls and animal howls, being alone but not feeling lonely, digging in the mud with your bare hands, dying your hair dark green to match the trees, being an animal person rather than a people person, complex sense of humor, having a hard time letting go, chewing on your lip or tongue till they bleed, mystery bruises and scrapes, neon colored bandaids, turning abandoned deer blinds into safe spaces, corduroy overalls and trousers, stuffed pockets, the urge to live in the woods and never return to regular society, ruffled and knotted hair from the wind, making your own paint out of flowers and plants, changing your name every time you enter the woods to feel like a new person, building shrines to the forest, flower blossoms in your hair, flooded swampy areas, jumping from short cliffs
Suburban Gothic: Summer evening heat sticking to your skin, the buzz of florescent lights, flickering street lights, budget popsicles and ice cream trucks, riding your bike with friends, late night convenience store visits, lingering family drama, muffled arguments, dusty attic sanctuaries, silent trauma, the chime of an old clock, guady wallpaper, gossamer curtains blowing softly with the breeze through open windows, cotton sheets and homemade quilts, quiet naps, broken umbrellas, dogs barking in the distance, drinking a milkshake in an empty diner, deep thick fog that creeps in without warning, communing with the spirits of the night, drug stores, broken windows and acts of vandalism, sandlots, vending machines, water fountains, walking on abandoned train tracks, watching your clothes spin in the laundromat, playing on the playground you haven't been to since you were twelve, trees and buildings silhouetted by unusual colored lights, walking around a semi-abandoned mall, hearing the roar of traffic and train horns in the distance, driving around at night while soft music plays on the radio, watching movies on an old tv, junk yards and pick-n-pulls, running down the street holding hands with someone familiar, urban legends, varsity jackets, trying to befriend stray animals, broken glass crunching beneath your shoes, rusty bridges, local television channels
Cuddle Party: Excited giggles and hushed whispers, condensation on drinkware, running through an empty field hollering and whooping in the dead of night, neon signs, drinking cheap alcohol, smoking or vaping on the porch in rocking chairs, irresponsible amount of glowsticks, drunken "I love you"s, watching old cartoons and classic disney movies together, five dollar pizza and breadsticks, slushies, road trips, road snacks and singing out loud in the car, hair braiding, finding new places to explore, sweatpants and joggers, dirty tennis shoes and high tops, going to place in your pajamas, letting your friends dye your hair or pierce your ears, stick and poke tattoos, tacky matching tye dyed shirts, county fairs and arcade visits, eating fair food and screaming your lungs out on rides, trying to earn as many tickets at the arcade and still winning cheap prizes, adult sleepovers, eating junk food and takeout, being the last one to fall asleep, casually sleeping all together in the same bed, holding hands in crowds, if one of us isn't having a good time none of us are, wondering how long these days will last
Cryptid Academia: Listening to long video essays while sketching cryptids, exploring abandoned buildings (legally and illegally), always keeping a pocket knife on you, dusty bookshelves and candlelit desk, blackout curtains, composite notebook stuffed with drawings and newspaper clippings, viewing the night sky through a telescope looking for aliens, visiting natural history or science museums, wanting a typewriter, info dumping conspiracy theories on friends, making plans to investigate that never come to fruition, tearing yet another hole into your clothes climbing over fences, chunky sweaters and turtlenecks, sarcasm and icon t-shirts, cargo pants and trousers, hoodies with long sleeves, shoddily patched up denim jackets with iron on patches, scuffed up boots and shoes, backpacks with keychains and pins, novelty socks, analog watches, scarves that billow in the breeze, binge watching The Twilight Zone and Buzzfeed Unsolved, cryptid podcasts, sprint training so you can outrun whatever is chasing you, constantly challenging your friends to games of wit, making your own journals, mending your clothes (again), whittling sticks when you're bored, dragging your friends into what you're up to, thrift shopping, all of your class essays are on cryptids and your professors want you to stop
Desertwave: Lizards, billowing winds, sandstorms, succulents in homemade clay pots, aloe vera plants on the kitchen windowsill, the full moon and the milky way on a clear night, the distant howl of a coyote, faded winnebagos, the steady lull of an RV driving to its next location, outdoor concerts, the soft hiss of misters, gazebos, campsites, large rock formations covered in graffiti, picking up trash, collecting smooth rocks, spanglish, distant sounds of house parties and laughter, earthen homes, iron fences with intricate designs, fire pits, the crackle of a bonfire, cacti and joshua trees in the backyard, making leather friendship bracelets, never getting the sand completely out of your shoes, curling up with a tiger cobija at night, trailer parks, a passing car with the spanish radio full blast, knit ponchos, dusty shorts, hiking boots with colorful laces, damp bandana around your neck, laying in a hammock watching the stars, corner stores, water balloon and gun fights, hot springs, mexican ice cream bars, rocky desert mountains, plots of sand and plants that stretch on as far as the eye can see
