everything i wanted to keep

Proof that i have interests

[littlemisslacey]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ — i just want someone to be the elvis to my priscilla :(

[partyponyarchive]

[partyponyarchive]

to lose a great friendship is to lose a love

I never really understood the depth of what happened between Maddy and Cassie in Euphoria. I mean, I knew it wasn't only about him. I knew there was way more history between them. I just didn't fully get it.

Until it happened to me.  (I wasn't Cassie, okay.)

For context, I had two friends who betrayed me. I've already distanced myself from them, especially because it wasn't the first time. 

My best friend, however,  stayed friends with them. We used to all be part of the same group, and she'd known them much longer than she'd known me.

At first, I didn't think much of it. It hurt, but I kept my friendship with her.

As time went on, we drifted further and further apart. Slowly, we lost the connection that used to define us.  I did everything I could to save it.

But eventually I realized that even if she wasn't the one who betrayed me in the beginning, staying so close to the people who did felt like a betrayal of its own. So I stopped trying.

Even though we both drifted apart, she was the one who started pulling away first.

 know this sounds like a typical friendship breakup. But we were really close.

I used to think of her as my soulmate.

My first love.

We weren't just friends. We were sisters. Something connected us.

Even the way we met felt strange. Sudden. Like we had both arrived with the same ideas and the same rebellion already inside us.

But that's a story for another time.

What I'm trying to explain is the scale of our friendship. We argued. We had bad moments.

But somehow we always found our way back. Everyone around us noticed it. Teachers. Family members. Any adult who knew us.

They always said we empowered each other, (in a chaotic way)

Are we still friends?

I don't know. Maybe that depends on who you ask.

We still greet each other with a smile. The same knowing smile we used when we were about to do something we definitely shouldn't have.

We still make references that only we understand, even though many times there's nothing to understand.

Just a phrase thrown into the air, waiting for the other person to laugh. 

Or at least I still do.

Just to relive, for a second, the nostalgia of what we used to be.

So even if she never betrayed me directly, she did.

And even though it's clear she did, I still love her.

There is no resentment left between us.

Just an almost extinguished flame, waiting for the smallest spark to burn again.

[partyponyarchive]

The rejection of pretty things

I’ve had a strange feeling for a while now, especially when I go out with my family.

I don’t like dressing “pretty”. I love looking at those Pinterest outfits. They’re obviously beautiful. But whenever I wear something similar, I feel ridiculous. Like I’m a 7-year-old version of myself playing dress-up and pretending to be a beautiful teenager.

It feels like I’m trying to be something I’m not.

The same thing happens with accessories, notebooks, pens, water bottles, or anything that’s considered “pretty”.

When I’m alone, I love them.

But the moment someone else sees me with them, I get embarrassed.

Suddenly I feel like I’m trying too hard. Like I’m trying to be aesthetic. Like I’m trying to be pretty.

And I hate the idea that other people might think that someone like me is trying to be those things.

I feel embarrassing. Like people are secretly thinking:

“who does she think she is?” “why is she trying to be a Pinterest girl?”

The worst part is that I feel the need to prove that I’m aware of how I look.

Like I have to make it clear that I know I’m not pretty.

That way, nobody can accuse me of thinking I’m something I’m not.

[partyponyarchive]

I used to publish videos ok

[katieron]

[xxxprosp3r0neilxxx]

Victor Frankenstein syndrome aka you spent nights over nights crying and bleeding over this work and now that it's finally done you're just like "nvm. it's trash" and go to bed

[partyponyarchive]

Frankenstein is not the story i thought it was

Mary Shelley was a British writer whose life was deeply connected to the Romantic movement. Many of the tragedies she experienced influenced her writing.

Interestingly, the inspiration for Frankenstein was born in a way that almost mirrors the creation of the Creature itself. During a stormy night, Lord Byron challenged his guests to write a ghost story. That night, Shelley dreamed of a young scientist kneeling beside the "hideous thing" he had brought to life. She awoke suddenly, much like the Creature opening his eyes for the first time, and knew she had found her story.

In the novel, Romanticism plays a huge role, as does the context of the Industrial Revolution.

Victor Frankenstein represents blind faith in progress, the pursuit of knowledge, and the dangers of science without ethics. But he also embodies the more intense side of Romanticism: obsession, ambition, and overwhelming emotion. He doesn't simply want to create life. He wants to challenge nature itself. For two years, he isolates himself completely, consumed by his work and unable to see the line between what is possible and what is right. When he finally succeeds, he is forced to face the consequences of what he has done. And he runs.

The Creature, on the other hand, represents a different side of Romanticism. When he first comes to life, he experiences the world with almost childlike wonder. He admires nature, listens to birdsong, and learns by observing others. He learns what a family is before he has one. He learns what love is before he ever receives it.

And that's where the tragedy of his character begins.

Before reading the novel, I thought Frankenstein was just a horror story about a mad scientist and his monster. I imagined the Creature as a mindless green zombie whose only purpose was to kill people. And of course, I thought the monster's name was Frankenstein 😭

But the novel is so much more than that.

The Creature is not rejected because of what he does. He is rejected because of how he looks. People decide he is a monster before hearing him speak, before understanding him, before giving him a chance to exist as anything else. Even Victor, the person who created him, abandons him the moment he opens his eyes.

What struck me most is that the Creature never truly stops searching for love and connection. Even when he confronts Victor in the Alps, he still speaks with dignity. He still wants to be heard.

I think the real heart of Frankenstein is loneliness.

The Creature spends the entire novel watching others form bonds while remaining completely alone. He understands love, friendship, and family, but can never become part of them. Over time, that rejection transforms him.

He decides that if he cannot inspire love, he will inspire fear.

And while he does commit terrible acts, I never saw him as purely evil. So much of his violence comes from a loneliness so profound that it eventually turns into anger.

What surprised me most about Frankenstein is that, by the end of the novel, the Creature felt far more human than I ever expected.

[pinkbabyface]