[nothoney]

call me a runner

nothing matters and every time i turn a corner you seem to be right there as if i tethered you to parts of me, unknowing, maybe while i slept and i cant see past the hair you got from our mother, its grown so long. are you okay in my shadow?

[nothoney]

A certain feeling

That leaves me once it’s here I never said goodbye I’m not sure that’s the point

You don’t get it I wake, I rest, I wake, I rest

I thought the birds would turn red And my words- finally liquid

I’ve tried to learn something from this A desire to be nothing all the time It drives my sense of being Into pits I fondly call, for no one else but me, potholes

I'm never going to be the desk in your room I'm never going to be the pin in your hair

I am only ever allowed to be the wind you pass through

And wasn’t I supposed to chill you?

[nothoney]

And I’ll like you

I don't want to be here I want to live in the woods Spend all day writing words about only you You’ll pick flowers And take pictures And touch my hair when I ask you

You’ll like the newest things all the time Your voice will carry them around our little home You’ll like the fire I set for you The dishes we found at a yard sale, chipped but the cutest things we’ve ever seen our whole lives

You’ll like sleeping when you want And dressing how you feel And reading the thoughts that plague me

You’ll like going to the store And coming back And always having somewhere to go Someone to talk to Something to do

And I’ll like you

[nothoney]

Because I’d Really Like It To Be You - 7/20/22

“Just giving you a heads up, ya know, just in case you get a call from your mother or something. Just so you’re not blindsided.”

Silence, but not for too long.

“Damn.”

Ah, the boy kid wonder. Always shows up right when you don’t need him.

“Dad’s finally doing it huh?”

Yeah, and I have to do this, too, by myself.

“Oh, waaah, cry about it.”

A scrunched up face and an attitude that could rival all of 2011 in that house with you, “I literally am.”

“Oh, get over it. It’s been-“

“You know, this is my imagination. Shouldn’t you be nicer to me? Like, even once.”

He shrugs. Plays dumb. Something he was always very good at when he was still breathing.

“You can handle this,” he continues, “I don’t know why you’re still so upset about doing it alone.”

“Because it doesn’t feel great does it?” Whining and whining and whining, something I am very good at while breathing.

“Yeah but would it even feel nice if I was there?” He challenges.

Things I don’t like to admit, No.

He gesticulates like he’s the fucking first person to figure out how to solve 2+2, “No! Exactly.”

“Stop reading my thoughts!”

“I AM your thoughts, bonehead.”

“Yeah well, you were nicer outside of my head.”

Another pause, but now the person inside my thoughts is thinking- is that possible? (Maybe that’s nice. I gave him some dimension in this one.)

“Why do you write me so mean?” For someone who’s not even real he sounds mighty small right now.

“Because you were.” I answer honestly.

“Not all the time.” A kicked puppy. (Why do I do that to myself? Feel bad for versions of you that aren’t even real.)

I smile for the first time in this daydream.

“No, not always. But you’re not here are you? So it’s my point of view.”

“Well your point of view sucks. How could you miss someone that’s this mean all the time?”

Tears now for a different reason.

“I don’t know.”

A very long stretch of silence now, filled with the usual self pity and absolute aggravation and blight towards the world.

Annalise, I can’t remember the way you said my name so I just think it instead. “Not everything has to be about me, you know? Like… this doesn’t even have anything to do with me, so why am I here right now?”

A childish shrug and a childish voice that I remember perfecting on you. “Because it’s about mom and dad.”

A sigh that sounds a little too much like the wind. “Are you actually sad that they’re getting divorced?”

An immediate no.

“So then, what? It is because they were together when I was alive? Because that’s fucking stupid. I mean, I died, like, years after.”

“Only two.” Like a defense I could use if I only figured out how.

“Okay, but two whole years. Is it about her?”

“No? Yes? Honestly, not really. Everyone’s been asking me that. But, no.”

“So why? Why do you do this to yourself? Make up these scenarios where I’m here, where I’m not even really helping. I’m just fighting. Is that all you remember?”

I ignore the last part, and raise my temper to show it. “Because I don’t want to do it alone!”

“But you are, poops.” Softer than I think is possible. I must be remembering in whispers.

(And also why did he- well me- have to bring that nickname up? I wish that had died too.)

“But I don’t want to.” Much more subdued. Defeated? Surrendered? What’s the right synonym for what I’m feeling here?

I continue with, “I don’t want Mom to call and tell me about the papers. I don’t know what to say. And there’s no one else she’d call about it. And I don’t want to lie about his engagement. But I don’t want to tell her either. There’s too much to do, not enough to say. And there’s no one else Dad had to preface. There’s no one else Mom is going to call. The others have each other, and even a little bit of me too. But I don’t have anyone.”

“Well what about-“

“I’m not calling any of them. I’d be a burden.”

He tsk’s, as if somewhere in there he could find falsity.

He gives me that look- that fucking look that I hate and really- this is my mind so why does he always give me that look-

“This is why you need a boyfriend.”

And before I can scream him away, he throws his hands up in defense and says “Or a girlfriend!”

I try to scream louder after that one.

He ignores it like he would if he was still alive, “If what you need is to be taken care of then why don’t you ever let anyone?”

“Because they’re not going to do it right.”

He gives me a different look this time. One that i’ve perfectly replicated from real life.

“Because you want it to be me?”

Somewhere in all of this. In all these dreams and made up conversations, my reality has shifted. Warped, in a sense, where if I play along too well or look too far to the right- where you’re there in a guinea tea, dirty ass jeans, and the same red and black Jordan’s you died in- I find myself too tempted. To fall in, to fade out. To go with you.

“Yeah,” I say to my once again empty bedroom- because I never let you stay too long, do I? “Because I’d really like it to be you.”     허니  

[nothoney]

“Have you found God, Wendy?”

Yes. In the back of a camper van in 2009 with a hillbilly and a crack pipe, I think. 

I don’t tell him that.

“No.”

“Do you know where God is?” he asks. Simultaneous in His expectation and rhetoric. 

Not here. 

I pause.

“No.” Again. 

He smiles priestly. 

“He’s right here.” Arms spread wide, like two metal chairs in an empty room could ever count as worship.

I smile belatedly. Unsure whether I’m allowed to even tick my foot, for He might hate it. 

“Father,” I said, though he’s not, “have you found God?”

He chuckles this time and looks at me like a child, because I am, in His eyes. He waits a moment, almost as to pour his thoughts telepathically to me- though I thought he could only do that with God? 

Time stretches too far for my comfort so I smile to reduce the bubbling anxiety of being in His presence.

“I have, my child.” he says finally, and I think. 

I think who’s child?

Still intensely nervous and trying my God-damn hardest (sorry) not to twitch, I smile.

I want to laugh in his face and call him a liar. A cheat. A psycho in black. I want to tug on his collar and watch the white cassock fall off and then I want to point at it and watch him stare and I want to say: 

“See? You’re just like me.”

Instead, I smile. 

He hasn’t, I think. He is still searching like me.

[nothoney]

i imagine what i would say to you

over and over and over and over again

it’s always the same thing

“i miss you”

because i want to hear you say it back to me.

sometimes i say something else

i say:

“you were the moon”

and you say:

“i was nothing”

and after an admittedly short amount of time i say:

“yeah”

you leave before i can say back

that that was enough for me        

[nothoney]

hi

it’s been a while since i’ve let my thoughts out completely anonymously.

i think one of the biggest downfalls to my life is that... bearing yourself for all to see leaves tiny little sunspots. dark corners where things are hidden but too small to reach.

am i making any sense? anyway, i wish i could clear this account fully. or start a new one. but the effort just doesn’t seem worth the reward. 

i’m going to start putting some thoughts down on here. because for some reason i feel the need for something a little more tangible than what i’ve written in songs, and what i’ve written in my notebooks.

a good middle ground, i’d say.

- hoping that all is well for everyone, and that one day we all find the balance between ourselves and our work. and of course, the light and the dark.

[smoldoggos]

[the-memedaddy]

[jasonptodd]

with how fucked up gotham is i bet the cost of living is mad low…bruce probably isn’t even that rich…he moves to metropolis and is middle class…

[emil]

has anyone checked on tony hawk recently

[minecraft]

Holy artifacts of our lord the hawk

[kelz17]

[princessbento]

2000s club music lyrics

[marsixm]

hey if ur reading this and ur in a bad spot mentally or anything i hope u feel better soon and have a good day

[horrorfilmgifs]

Hellraiser (1987)

[snout]

hey everybody who’s in high school rn, in less than ten years its literally going to feel like a bad dream. like its not gonna feel even vaguely real. hang in there

[niqabisinparis]

not even ten years. like 3 days after graduation

[boringangel]

ten mins after u walk out

[kutuphanemde]

[vida-imensa]

Nico