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Pulp Fiction

[sistergrimms-world]

[sistergrimms-world]

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Playboy

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Dear Diary…

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Stained

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Creep

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Change

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Fly

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Culture

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Secrets

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Peculiar

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Hooked

[sistergrimms-world]

[sistergrimms-world]

Deemed never enough. Why am I never enough. There’s this invisible force pushing me to pursue things that bring me no joy. A job where everything looks the same. Where is the joy? A life that’s been nothing but an uphill battle since birth. Where is the joy? Passions that seem out of reach. Where is the joy? Feeling crushed by the weight of reality. Where is the joy? Only in my dreams do I feel free from my body, free from expectation, free from a burdened existences. Free to just be. There, I feel joy. Make believe joy…but joy regardless of its authenticity. Where I can die a million times over, and still feel the grip of adventure, and endless creation as I reconfigure a new world. Death is not the end there, so I fear not. Only when time tugs me out of my sleep state do I realize that even in such a place (the world I have created for myself) there is an end, though it may not be through deaths gaze, but an end to freedom. Freedom to be who I want to be. There, I am enough.

[sistergrimms-world]

[sistergrimms-world]

We met in the middle of a storm. Raging winds pulling us apart. The dark clouds forming above foreshadowed the glooming fate that would eventually be the end of us.

Our tears mixed with the rain fall, swept us into an unforgiving flood of emotions who’s current dragged us under, filling our lungs with ultimatum, after ultimatum until neither one of us could recognize the person we once loved. We would drown in our excuses, and be laid to rest in a grave we dug together while trying to uncover the root of our isolation.