Halsey at the 2026 Cannes Film Festival

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

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sheepfilms

#extradirty
dirt enthusiast
cherry valley forever
Sweet Seals For You, Always
trying on a metaphor
i don't do bad sauce passes

roma★

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KIROKAZE
occasionally subtle
Show & Tell
we're not kids anymore.
YOU ARE THE REASON
$LAYYYTER
Game of Thrones Daily
Mike Driver
Not today Justin
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@non-binary-void
Halsey at the 2026 Cannes Film Festival
Halsey photographed by averagecowgirl (May 2026)
I think arguably one of the only things worse than ignoring / denying a victim of abuse is accusing them of being the abuser. Especially given the fact that most abusers use tactics like “you made me do this” or the old “you are abusing me by calling out my abuse bc it makes me feel bad”. The victims who escape those situations often face a long road in their ‘next life’ of internally focused paranoia and constant moral inventory taking; afraid that setting a boundary, or being firm (or being in a bad mood even) is behavior that is too reminiscent of how their own abuser acted. Trauma altering the ability to differentiate. Having to muck through the dense fucking mud of “Am I a bad person, and that’s why this happened to me? Maybe it was all my fault…” A truly devastating phenomenon.
Jordan Mooney together with Vivienne Westwood, 1977.
I do not find peace in my melancholy.
My sadness is not serene.
I am bloodthirsty.
behind the scenes IICHLIWP film, Prague 2021.
By donslens of course.
jesus didn’t die for your sins
you die for your own.
you paid all of your debts
but you cannot go home.
the father cursed the skirt for being short.
the mother cursed him for staring.
then cursed you, the competition.
the teacher kept your seat close to the board.
in hindsight, kept you closer to his desk.
the pastor brushed his hands against your back.
this is life in reparation.
This is how I originally wrote it. One of those that starts as a poem and then begs to be a song. I posted a fragment of this on tumblr a while back, but here’s the initial piece in its entirety 🤍
we do need to revisit the wording of "you can't have your cake and eat it too" because i don't think it clearly enough conveys that it's more that you can't simultaneously retain a cake and also get to consume it (which would render you cakeless). for years i was like But why not....it's my cake....?
this fucking problem is how they caught the unabomber
hey you should uh. elaborate. for my own personal satisfaction
the unabomber was pedantic about idiomatic phrases like "have your cake and eat it too" and rephrased it to "eat your cake and have it too" (which to be very fair makes sense). fast forward to when he starts writing manifestos. he uses the phrase word for word in his pedantic style and his brother (who has been keeping his eyes on the unabomber shit for obvious reasons) notices the phrase and is like "oh fuck that's my fucking brother no one else fucking says that" and calls in an FBI tip
I already posted about losing basic human decency on November. Unsurprisingly, nothing has changed. we continue to use each other as products, as mere transactions, or to fulfill a role in someone else's life. perhaps we are so intoxicated by dopamine that we are losing the foundation of connection, unable to see beyond the surface when looking into another's eyes.
I've said it once, and I'll repeat it as often as needed: we are in the era of hyper-connection and constant communication, yet we are more disconnected and isolated than ever. we are forgetting to treat living beings as living beings. fy all for that n good luck.
Crowned dragon as tail-eater; two dragons forming a circle and, in the four corners, signs of the four elements. — Eleazar, Uraltes chymisches Werk (1760)
Uroboros. — Codex Marcianus
C. G. Jung, Collected Works of C.G. Jung, Volume 12: Psychology and Alchemy
Fuck you all who shitted on halsey for not being present on social media and not giving you the attention you wanted xxx
I cannot even fathom the idea of someone choosing to see you, to take their time in knowing you; moving from their own curiosity to understand your demeanor, your personality and your character. To actually be able to see further than their english navel; to want to create a team with you and actually willing to make the team work. To choose you as someone with whom they want to spend their time with, the only thing that they cannot take back.
I've lost many years of friendships because there was no room for mistakes, for inconveniences, for saying no, for remaining honest instead of compliant. To be sick, to do things in ways they didn't tolerate, to not be perfect on perfect days, for considering harmful and unfair making me have to almost dissect myself frequently so they all have everything already done while I'm left to shreds. For going to the therapist to treat my issues while they didn't, for having almost no privacy because I believed that making myself see-through was the only way of building trust and, therefore, friendships.
Reality is, my pain isn't about you; my anxiety isn't about you; my disorders are not about you; my insecurities aren't about you; my fears aren't about you; my flus, my fevers, my withdrawal, my soar throats aren't about you, neither my medical record; my insomnia isn't about you; my stress isn't about you; my hobbies aren't about you; my music isn't about you; my longing isn't about you; my dreams aren't about you; my desires aren't about you; my personal growth isn't about you; the paths I choose aren't about you; my financial situation isn't about you; my struggles aren't about you; my bad days, exhausting days, calm days, sad days aren't about you; my fights aren't about you; what I choose to share and keep private isn't about you...But I surely made some of my letters and poems about you, tho.
What really is about you is your willingness to be a part of my life. Because this goes nowhere if I'm the only one who understands that. If I'm the only one who sees this as an opportunity to venture a new land where only you can give me the possibility to navigate. And no matter how much space you give me; you can make me your muse, your angel, your queen, your villain...truth is, I will never be the creator.
Sometimes, a wave of hopelessness strikes my body, like a bullet to a stone or the ricochet to the flesh.
An acute manifestation of absurdity and insignificance make its appearance, crawling like roots from the chest to the throat.
These eyeballs burn and burn and burn, but don’t weep because they’re lost.
Confused nostalgia, where do you come from and where are you going. You seem lost, but nobody’s coming.
What have you done to me? Why did you stick your sharp fingers under my skin and play with my insecurities like this?
Can’t seem to find my reflection, only the mess you left of me.
Dear Heather,
I wonder if your laugh still sounds like a river of crystals clashing and reverberating. Or if you keep smiling the same; no one has ever smiled so symmetrically. That would be the only feature that would give you away, considering we've grown so different that no one could identify ourselves in between all this noise, faces and TLs.
Did you become a teacher or, instead, are riding along with the Bleachers? Because I've become a doctor and an avid bleeder. I believe you wouldn't be surprised, forthwith I can remember all those nights stargazing and sharing our dreams, like a summer night with a cold fever.
Your eyes shined like a fluorescent kaleidoscope every time you had something to share, and something to hide. Do you still listen to Chase Atlantic and Dayseeker or did you fall to the other side, like a villain that isn't psycho but lost her peace of mind? I've grown an obsession with Halsey, and left Zico on the bench with Peter.
What about your cook recipes, have your tooth turned sweeter? Bet you can remember those times where we've shared some clementines under the trees and washed our hands by the river after a brief sleep. Singing with the birds the songs of the fallen, and confessing our indignities to the beavers.
Wonder if you've found what love is about, since we are two romantic believers. Unconditional is the name of my God, and you well know that I work by my faith and words. He, a tyrannic force that absorbed my soul like a drowning sailor in the middle of a storm. And within a blink, I sanctified mortal's blood. But it is true that even our fathers won't forgive our sins and cyclones. So what can I expect of my best friend or my greatest love?
I won't lie to you, He still rules it all. From my thick skin to my smallest bone. However, life tastes fresher sober than giving in to the pressure. So I sail in the middle of the sea on my own. Since fights are nothing more than another language to understand us whole, only those who won't keep a score can remain on board. We are here to help us survive a wreckage, not to murder the fervency to remain real at core.
Do you still feel so superior or have you realized that you only have one liver? Please, remember that lambs and wolves bleeds just the same, no matter who were fancier or funnier or have more t-shirts to wear.
Dear Heather, blessed be the colors you painted. Blessed be the oceans we've shared and the twilights we danced. Blessed be the end as it started. Blessed be the storm you couldn't conquer and bless you and your life to prosper.
this. this one.