#). self para

[lofikids]

self para, mika song. starting her career as a burlesque dancer, mika song quickly took off in popularity under the stage name “songbird.” her gentle & subtle movements amoured the crowd as she brought them into her romantic outlook of the world. thousands would kill to see the thoughts behind her pretty face as she would sway across the stage.

hunger lingers in their gaze ; adrenaline carrying her frame through the neon spotlights that cast shadows upon her muse below. the excitement his character brings her revolts her ; the sheer admiration & lust for her carefully choreographed movements drove her insane. degraded to an empty shell of nothing but beauty and desire, taught the importance of a visual would win you diamonds and gold - it deeply excited her. 

drenched in decorated silver, the lavish garment that warmed to her body like a familiar hug, it brought the attention of many - it seemed that every single head turned par her own. their adoration that kindled her sweet deception, there was no malice - it was simply survival. music carried her, working against her in every way. her brain on autopilot, her heart - filled with nothing but hate. hate. hate. a place she could not reach, she could no longer feel. distorted imagery creating a reality deep within her she could call home - somewhere safe and loving she could place herself when her gloomy heart began to heal.

“mika” she called it. this thing, this attempt, this person. she loved attention, she loved validation - her dancing, her presence, her character. the artist installation she stood by and watched as passers by gave their praise, of course it was fickle, the feeling stayed for a moment - it wouldn’t stay with her. the validation she would seek ongoing; “nothing is permanent.” is what she would call it. including herself. mika song would only last until she found something that suited her better, maybe the name would remain, but the origins would always twist and change.

so beneath her he sat. with each note, each exchange of currency- the facade would drip a little more, the bloody tangled mess slowly being revealed. he wanted to know her, they all want to know who she is. why she is. the disconnect from reality they all craved, maybe they envied her. little miss perfect who had the world at her finger tips, seemingly without revealing nothing at all. her soul as sweet as blood red jam, her sophistication, she understands them. the way her body moves, the way she gives them every little thing they want but nothing at all. her illusion - it fuels her. she loves it. mika loves it. 

the fearful little girl who sat deep inside her prison, she would cry ; it’s almost silent, drowned out by laughter & song. sat within her was a desperation, something that couldn’t be fulfilled by kind words spoken by older or fickle admiration, something yearned to be heard, not just known. a void not spoken of as it sat far from the notion of money or glory. the embrace she wanted vs the embrace she needed - a hug for alys. a kiss for alys. a gentle hand reminding her that even at the worst of times, it was okay to not be mika. it was okay to be more than body & song. it was okay to feel. the emotions are scary ; like laughter in a woodland deep into the night. but the tender embrace of her inner child was second to the ignorance and high.

so she continues, the routine drawing to a close as the audience applauds. eyes that sparkle but carry nothing but dejection finish their fantasy with a wink. as the curtain draws close, she smiles to herself. we did well.

[lofikids]

3:30am / 211221 

full moon. palm tree. cigarette. hotel lobby. we are your dream. famous monsters. make no mistake. we never wake. we are your dream. we never die. marble mansion. private party. manicured lawn to house strange blood. dry, alone. cruising the hills. meet you in the cemetery. we love dancing. and violence. beneath the dirt. below earth. we are your dream.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ what is wrong with me?  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍fingers entangled in jet locks as she pulls and pulls attempting to soothe that building stress within her. she’d hurt somebody again, hurt them badly. it’s different this time though. her back slides down the bathroom wall, staring at the lifeless body that sat beneath her, his familiar face. his warm smile. his loving eyes. gone. stripped of any animation within them. she didn’t cry, theres no blood on her hands. no evidence to hide. all that remained on her person, was guilt. guilt for being. guilt for existing as she was meant to exist. imagine that, being swallowed by your own purpose. being manipulated to believe something completely new and estranged for it to be instantly ripped away, no sedation. the pull away is painful, its bloody, its tearing. yon lost everything in the blink of an eye. her lover, her guidance, her new way of living. her light. turned off, lost. she’s uncertain, afraid, unsure of the next step. because he would make it for her. what is she to do now? go back to before? she doesn’t think she can.

she’s crying now. that’s not something she’s designed to do. yon’s almost choking trying to slow them down, push them back in, resort to anything that isn’t this. this is weak. this is showing that she isn’t who she once was. she always knew how to emote, how to fabricate emotions and how to manipulate them to her benefit. never to let them fall for another. maybe its for herself, it’s not only her love she lost today. she lost apart of herself. but i suppose, it’s been lost for a while now. maybe it’s finally coming back? maybe they’re happy tears. her emotions are confused. yon’s smiling now, trying so hard to fight it back, it’s turning into laughter. she’s free. but she’s sad? is she? what does it mean to be free? is this pain all a part of it? will it get easier? maybe with time. 

optics fall back onto the body once again and her smile falters. the tears and cries get a little louder. her vision gets a little blurry and the dames began to visualise a woman stood before her. its her. yon felt no anger toward her. or maybe she did. right now she wasn’t sure. the image of the woman is kissing the man who lay on the floor. they’re kissing. they’re loving. she’s taking him away from her. he’s betrayed her. he’s hurt her. he’s made her feel small, embarrassed, tricked. deceived. the one person who has promised her different, promised he would never do that to her. what’s the one thing she’s always done to people who deceive her? yes he taught her different. but, he lied. he’s a liar. yon’s sobbing now. the grip on her hair tightening as she buries her face, attempting to shroud her vision with darkness, completely block out the image that is circling around in her brain. 

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ i’m scared.  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍she showed herself to him. physically, emotionally, spiritually. she allowed him in, she let him stay. but he threw all of that way. in the trash. exactly where yon wishes she was right now. and for why? he had it coming to him? he had it coming to him. the blanche would repeat this phrase in her head a couple of times as the laughter started to rise again. ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ you did this to yourself. you. you asked for this. you knew what you were getting yourself into.  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍yon is talking directly to the body on the floor, addressing him from top to bottom, focusing in on the wound inflicted by an accidental blow to the head. there was a little water on the floor. of course, it’s to yon’s hand he’s unlucky. he’s had the worst week of his life. it would of progressed onto the worst year of his life if he’d survived this fall. 

but through it all. yon didn’t mean for this to happen. she’d never had this guilt, never knowing that she’d hurt somebody this badly before. this being the first human she’d ever got close to, the only person in her life she could barely consider family. who took her away from her woodland in france, to the suburban neon streets of korea. gave her opportunity. a chance at a new life. made her believe he was all she had. in a sense, this became true. whether he knew that or not. she had someone control her, control her life. she loved it. she felt wanted. she felt safe. she felt all these emotions yon hadn’t even believed in before meeting him. most importantly, he’d given her love. introduced her to what that word means. but she’d go along with it right? i mean, there’s no way she can go back home now. she’s living with him. him, his 3 other girlfriends who yon until recently, was unaware of. it’s a little cozy. the names he would call her. nobody ever gave her nicknames before. the dates, the meals. the amazing food. she shouldn’t eat it though. that’s what he said. she appreciated the advice. the i love you’s. not from him, but yon got to say it. before that, she’d never gotten the chance. it was so much fun and she’s forever grateful for it. 

but she’ll never let herself experience it again. ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ 

[lofikids]

breaching sanity. final chapter. alys aderyn.

tw: trauma, religion, horror, gore

with the pursuit of freedom, i found you. lost in translation ; the flight you promised me through demands you must execute. gasoline seeps through my fingers, wiping clean any crimson but leaving behind a horrible horrible smell. a type of scent which lingers in the back of your throat, choking any air that attempts to leave my lungs. any tears i create he collects, through darkened clouds that fill the sky my emotions trickle down once more, feeding the ever growing emerald surface i built as a child. the heat that burns up ahead, the amber glow that drowns screams of many familiar with its warmth. i stare into the open flame, something in it has a power, i could barely tear my gaze away. i travel through the heat, its burning me. it hurts. i’m not stopping. on my back there's a weight. i can’t look back, the overwhelming pressure that settles between my shoulders is nothing short of foreboding, its deep, heavy breathing cascading down my neck as my body sways. 

we’re searching, home has been found. but i am not stopping. the trial of fire with burn before you bury me. legs shake as i topple onto the dirt path below, the flames growing around me. vision fades between a bright glow & the comfort of darkness- but i can’t give in now. my fingers grip onto the burnt blades of grass below me, im pushing myself onto my elbows, crimson falls from an unknown part of my body, i watch as it seeps into the ground below, the earth swallowing it instantly. soon after, a flower blooms- a lily. i allow my blurry gaze to wander, down from the heavens more crimson fell, evaporating as it hit the fiery orange glow that surrounded me- more flowers began to bloom - only standing for a moment before the flames consume them. i’m scared. my eyes find a rose that is seconds from being swallowed by the fire, i lunge toward with, reaching into my soul to find any ounce of strength - but i was too late. the petals light up and with it there’s a deep crack within me. i scream. i’m scared. the pain begins inward and travels toward the surface. as with the death of a flower - comes an unbearable pain within me. 

the weight is back, i fall to my knees, dragging my lifeless body through the mud & flames- trying so hard to shake off this feeling. the heaviness, the dread, the weight. the further i travel the more it consumes me, burying me beneath the red hot surface below. although, no mark on my body. the trees that surround me are crying, i pause, i hear them. i listen. i tell them, i say, “i hear you.” i scream. the trees follow. in unison we are crying, wailing, we recognize each others pain.

i am listening.

i pause. a single trickle of red drips down from my eye, falling into my parted tiers. something clicked. everything feels so far away. the deafening screams around me felt silent, i knew they were there, but something far more important was at hand right now. the weight. it had disappeared, i’m cold. i’m shaking. why is it so cold. i watch as the fire continues to burn around me. why am i so cold? the feeling of dread that sat atop of me had diminished, i felt new. above me flew a bird, way above the burning woodland, it seemed so peaceful, i watched it. a small smile curving my lips. 

i wanted you to show me freedom, that pure enigmatic energy of everything holy you promised us.