prison of the arcana

iridescent drops of moon ceasing the perpetual throb

[saturnus-et-stellae]

why does this loneliness not end

why does this sadness not end

[saturnus-et-stellae]

a mother made is a woman destroyed

[saturnus-et-stellae]

i smoked a cigarette with my friend and felt all the wrinkles in my brain smooth out. i'm starting to see why people love it.

never in my life has my brain ever been this quiet. no thought, nothing. just quiet. the things i would do to get that quiet again but my biggest failing is my fear. i'm scared of something but i will smoke again, only when i need the smooth again

[saturnus-et-stellae]

i hate you so, so, so much and i know nothing will make you happier but i wont ever let you know. i hate how much you can wreck my day just by deciding to or not to sit with me. i hate how much you've ruined me and my ability to be normal and just how much i love this. i hate the tantalizing dance you play each moment you decide to or not to talk and i hate how you're perfect for me and i cant stop thinking up things with you.

you've never come up in my dreams and the only time you did you were judging me, you're a huge bag of hypocrisy but i don't have it in me to call you out. i hate you so much that im starting to consider shkifting my hate towards him with my hate towards you. i dont believe in love and i dont believe in whatever it is that you make me feel except that it is huge and ginormous and its eating me but i would never ever wish to go back.

youve killed me and built me anew on this precarious web but it was my aim to be cuaght here. i sat in the very middle watching you go round in circles weaving this web. i watched each movement of the veins in your hands, the veins i like to imagine laying over my palms, my head, my face, my neck, my legs, over my body just as much as it is under it.

it's not sexual, and it's so far from being romantic but i've accepted this as the only love that is acceptable for me. i dont know who or what im doing this for. i know not what you think or ever did think of me. i hope you were tormented by this dread at least once and i hope i could make one itny corner in your mind. i hope im that web you try to ignore but can never clean or reach.

i am so tired of watching you dance around the edge, with uhnger in your eyes waiting to devour me modeled in such a cold demeanor i feel like i delude myself into thinking it's even there. oh but i see a lingering shodow of what once was, a shadow of what you and i both thought couldve been. oh but maybe it's all just wishful thinking. who am i to ever be graced by you. who am i to ever be lucky enough to have your real replace the phantom on my brain.

i fucking hate you and i hate everything that led me to you and to this and i cannot want you anymore, i cannot need you anymore. this is the ruin i bring to me, i could blame you but i would never give you that satisfaction.

[saturnus-et-stellae]

Pedophiles have a certain grace about themselves, they’re cowards hungry for power knowing full well they can change (or end) the trajectory of someone’s life before they know to make one. Imagine the thrill of exterting power of a powerless kid, ruining something so pure and untouched. Untouched and pure. No greater sin, no greater pleasure than smashing a ruinous hammer over a delicate, pure thing. People take assaults straight to the heart, any assault is a horrible loss of control. Your brain fires off countless new neurons you have no control to, the body decays and twitches and shakes in unprecedented ways, you no longer know why you do the things you do, why you act the way you and why it takes so long to get out of it, over it, bury it, destroy, leave it for the ruin it brought you. Oh but it’s comforting, a piece of your identity to cling to, something to forever blame your douchey behaviour on, your sense of pseudo righteousness in the face of responsibility. I was raped at some point so I will now forever roam with a ‘handle with care’ sign. I was raped and I get flashbacks, none of which concerns you but it concerns me so you deal with it. Assault takes time to get over and in the world we live, it’s almost better if it’s sooner than later. Part of the reason why I find pedophiles who attack extremely young children the kindest. They inflict harm on kids who can’t gauge the impact of the attack, how am I supposed to be traumatized by something my brain was feeble enough to not even make a proper memory of? I can live my whole wondering what happened, how many times, to what degree or if it happened at all? What’s kinder than that? How is a blurry, hazy memory not kinder than an active attack on the memory? It’s been more than 14 years and I cant tell if my first memory was my brother’s birth or the assault. I cant even tell if it comes under rape or not. I wouldn’t report him if I did find him no, I wanted a guarantee is all. I wanted a trsut on myself I never really gained. I wanted to have a real expeircene, a real thing to blame my sadness on because it’s pathetic, im pathetic and there is no truth more universal. The unending cycle of blaming and self pitying is intolerable and kills me. I have no sense of self and it is a pathetic. There are times when I don’t want to be raped and stay satisfied with eveyrhting but for the rest of it I want to be raped because I feel it’s the only way I can justify myself.

[saturnus-et-stellae]

for what it's worth, i hate this more than anything.

SUPER FREAAKY PATHETIC GIR;

[saturnus-et-stellae]

Pedophiles have a certain grace about themselves, they’re cowards hungry for power knowing full well they can change (or end) the trajectory of someone’s life before they know to make one. Imagine the thrill of exterting power of a powerless kid, ruining something so pure and untouched. Untouched and pure. No greater sin, no greater pleasure than smashing a ruinous hammer over a delicate, pure thing. People take assaults straight to the heart, any assault is a horrible loss of control. Your brain fires off countless new neurons you have no control to, the body decays and twitches and shakes in unprecedented ways, you no longer know why you do the things you do, why you act the way you do and why it takes so long to get out of it, over it, bury it, destroy, leave it for the ruin it brought you. Oh but it’s comforting, a piece of your identity to cling to, something to forever blame your douchey behavior on, your sense of pseudo righteousness in the face of responsibility. I was raped at some point so I will now forever roam with a ‘handle with care’ sign. I was raped and I get flashbacks, none of which concerns you but it concerns me so you deal with it. Assault takes time to get over and in the world we live, it’s almost better if it’s sooner than later. Part of the reason why I find pedophiles who attack extremely young children the kindest. They inflict harm on kids who can’t gauge the impact of the attack, how am I supposed to be traumatized by something my brain was feeble enough to not even make a proper memory of? I can live my whole wondering what happened, how many times, to what degree or if it happened at all? What’s kinder than that? How is a blurry, hazy memory not kinder than an active attack on the memory? It’s been more than 14 years and I cant tell if my first memory was my brother’s birth or the assault. I cant even tell if it comes under rape or not. I wouldn’t report him if I did find him no, I wanted a guarantee is all. I wanted a trust on myself I never really gained. I wanted to have a real experience, a real thing to blame my sadness on because it’s pathetic, im pathetic and there is no truth more universal. The unending cycle of blaming and self pitying is intolerable and kills me. I have no sense of self and it is a pathetic. There are times when I don’t want to be raped and stay satisfied with eveyrhting but for the rest of it I want to be raped because I feel it’s the only way I can justify myself.

[saturnus-et-stellae]

everytime the rain soaks you or something you cherish at the moment, think of her merging as one with the river, melting as her thoughts of you forget to cease. think of her clinging onto the void of her merciless memory trying to get back home to you.

[saturnus-et-stellae]

We plan so soon, so far in advance the things never seem to catch up

[saturnus-et-stellae]

But i was so ready to paint the sky a whole new colour

[stardust-on-crustedblood]

all there is to say is etched deep in the half moons on the transparent parchment skin

[saturnus-et-stellae]

you underestimate my ability to sit in a flowy gown laced with crumbs of my broken heart in a burning castle and smile like it's the year of the century at any given moment

[saturnus-et-stellae]

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh

No but screaming under the ground for a hot minute might fix me

[stardust-on-crustedblood]

"i could write you poems, I could write you letters, I could leave my heart right by your window every night, I could love you so embarrassingly, so brutally if you ever just set yourself free."

[saturnus-et-stellae]

Oooh when you're terrible at speaking to new people but can't help but want to talk and speak with them at length because they seem soooo interesting and fun and you just knoowwww you could be good friends

[memeuplift]

[saturnus-et-stellae]

The quote about life having the worst sense of humour, giving you the things you want at the worst possible time

[saturnus-et-stellae]

When words start feeling so heavy and dug up so deep inside, but you can't help but want someone to pull them out, rip you open and sit with you in all the bloody, painful glory