I’ve always fallen in love easily; I take to love like a fish to water. An hour, a day, a week, a month—and just like that, I’m in love again.
I fell in love with the way you perform, overflowing with confidence and passion and stunning skill. I fell in love with your humor, your compassion, the way you lose yourself in music. I fell in love with the way your voice sounds in song and in prose. I fell in love with the way you smile, the way you move, the way you shine.
But none of that is colored by the rosy fingers of Eos.
My love for you is not the fiery tug to your body but rather the soft pulsation that pulls me to your soul. My love for you is not the desire for your lips on mine but rather for the comfortable pressure of your embrace.
Aphrodite has no hold on me; the arrows of Eros bounce off my skin as if I were Achilles himself.
It's a gorgeous thing, love. If we limit it to this singular concept of romantic or sexual love, if we treat that kind of relationship as the ultimate goal of humanity, are we not taking away this beautiful, human thing?
I find love everywhere, and that is a true gift.
If we keep insisting that love is to be reserved solely for our "one true love," then, in our endless search for the illusion of true love, we'll be blind to the beauty and joy of friendships and hobbies.
“I want to go any way where no one knows my name…”
I want to go any way where I can wear cowboy boots one day and sandals the next, where I can braid my hair and grow it out long and cut it super short. My pronouns are not she/her! (Or are they? I never cared about them anyway.)
I want to go any way where I have friends that I can get boba with and do escape rooms and visit the beach with a swimsuit that feels good and hike a mountain before the sunrise.
I want to learn all the languages in the world and all the music in the world; I want to paint and draw and color outside the lines. I want something fierce I can write for; I want a message I want to shout across the rooftops.
I want, I want, I want-
I miss my friends.
“I want to go any way where no one knows my name, make it an adventure and never ever be the same. […] Life would be alright if I left today. It’d never be the same; I’d gladly take the blame.”
I pour my heart into words and paper,
dip thoughts in ink and spill them on pixels.
I write love letters to you:
dear love,
how are you today?
You'll never read them,
I guess,
or maybe fate will spin her wheel and
chance will throw her dice for us,
and you'll stumble upon these lonely words
amidst the web of discourse and dissent;
I hope you'll stay awhile,
in this pocket of love.
Though I suppose,
even if you were to stumble upon my
humble corner,
you would never know these words were for you.
But that's okay.
After all,
letters to the unknown
have always been my style.
this blog is like a time capsule and you know what
i don’t care if my new content (if i make content) is vastly different from my old because this is me now, and i am not the same as the girl (that’s not the right word, but it’s an approximation) i was two or three or four years ago.
and the truth is the girl i was two years ago would not post here again. she would want to preserve this precious time capsule, this record of the person she used to be. but i’m different now, and i like to think i’ve grown.
so i blocked the man i went no contact with, the man i still love in a i-truly-hope-you-are-well-but-i-don’t-think-you’re-good-for-me kind of way, and i am continuing this sketchbook even with a different handwriting.
i am using the stickers i once feared to ruin. i swore off buying dated calendars and planners because of the many i have bought and never used, too scared to ruin their blank perfection. i am picking up journals after months of inactivity. i am doodling like it’s an art because it is.
Here's a short angst fanfic based on this post image:
⚠️TRIGGER WARNING! THE STORY CONTAINS AMPUTATION, GORE, AND VIOLENCE! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK⚠️
Nyanja is a 15 year old two-tailed trickster nekomata, and it's his birthday tomorrow. But here's the thing...he was working with Shogun X, who is partners with As forces him to kill innocent people all for bloodbath. Nyanja refuses because it's all wrong. Tomorrow hits and it's now Nyanja's birthday, but there was no celebration at all...He turned 16, and the moment Shogun X heard about this, he was not pleased...
The ninjas found Nyanja trying to celebrate his 16th birthday as a way of release, but Shogun X's ninjas caught him and dragged him back to his dojo. "It's wrong okay!? Killing innocents is not something I should do!!" Shogun X's eyes (if he even has eyes...) narrowed. He ordered his ninjas to hold him down on the floor, causing Nyanja to gasp in pure fear. Shogun X slowly unsheathes his katana and says this with such cruelty in his voice "Happy sweet sixteen, Nyanja.". He finally unsheathes his katana, raises it above his head. Nyanja was hyperventilating, tears streaming down excessively on his face, begging and pleading for the demon to give mercy. Shogun X did not give him any mercy at all.
"PLEAASEE!!!! NOOOO!!! I'M BEGGING YOU, DON'T DO THIS, MASTER!!!!" Nyanja screamed and sobbed uncontrollably as he thrashes, clearly trying to escape all the ninjas vice-like hold on him. Shogun X's sword finally came down in a very brutal, precise arc...
SHHHRRRRRAKKK!!
Nyanja was silent...he was processing the pain as life flashed before his eyes. His happy childhood from when he was 2-8, until it stopped when he turned 9 years old...Shogun X had murdered both of Nyanja's parents, making him watch the traumatizing event that's unfolding before his eyes. His mother was decapitated, his father was cut in half...
Finally....the scream of pain came...
"AAAAAAAAGGGHHHH!!!!!!"
Nyanja's scream echoed through the night, a very heartbreaking sound coming from a nekomata who had just turned 16... The ninjas have released him, and Nyanja was screaming, sobbing, and crying. The blood began to spill freely, pooling on the floor in a horrific crimson stain. The blood was so hot and sticky as it drips down his arm, staining the floor.
Shogun X cruelly lifted him up by the other remaining arm "Leave, and do not come back. You are NO LONGER welcome here." and he proceeds to throw him like a discarded broken toy. One of Shogun X's underling, a single ninja, approaches the broken nekomata to abuse and taunt him by violently kicking him in the stomach three times.
Nyanja was already in pain, helplessly trying to defend himself, grunting in pain from each kick. The ninja left after, leaving the poor young nekomata all alone, sobbing in pain.
Just when he was in his breaking point, a shadow loomed over him...it was the shape of a tall, muscular wolf. Nyanja looked up, and it was Fletcher Kane, the notorious wolf baron known for his wealth and power. Fletcher Kane was busy investigating the Oninoshima island the moment he sensed that something was off, and he heard the sound of a crying child and found him.
The moment Nyanja saw him, his eyes widen in shock because he recognized him.
"NOOO!!!!! AAAAAAGHHH!!!!! PLEASE NO!!!! DON'T HURT ME! I DON'T HAVE GOLD IN ME!!!!" Nyanja screamed while trying to back away, but the pain was so severe it weakened him. Fletcher Kane held his hands up in a surrendering motion and says "calm down, kid. I'm not going to hurt you..." and his eyes widen in shock and saw the missing hand
"holy hell, who did this to you kid?!" Fletcher Kane exclaimed. Nyanja told him that Shogun X did this, and Fletcher Kane picks the nekomata up in his arms, bridal style, determined to save him.
Fletcher Kane goes back to Lonewolf Lair carrying Nyanja and tries every healing item to heal him and save him.
Some nights, if a friend texted me something late at night, I would just… leave it. And that’s fine, it’s late, after all. But the important part is the “something.”
A friend texts you “fuck” at 12 am. A friend texts you “I love you” at 2 am. And you just… can’t bring yourself to text back.
What happened to the girl with a heart made of gold, who knew what it was like to be at the brink in the dead of the night? What happened to the girl who would stay up all night if her friend needed it? What happened to that girl filled with love?
I don’t know where she went. I like to think she’s still inside me, somewhere. But I’m just so… tired.
We all have connections to people, to animals, to things. And with every relationship comes relationship problems. As perfect as one might seem, there will always be some kind of conflict that arises.
The writing you made as a kid, so hopeful and naive, that you can’t bear to throw away.
The house plant you put on the windowsill and try to water but forget some times, that you worry about when it starts to look yellow.
The kitten you adopted after the first cat you knew passed, who knocks over everything on your desk and walks over your laptop but who cuddles with you like you’re his whole world.
The interim librarian you’ve only smiled at in passing because you still miss the old one, who first taught you how to connect to the printer.
The teacher you had in 5th grade who was the first to really encourage your writing, who you hope is doing well and, even though you’re no longer in contact, whom you’ll always be grateful to.
The friend you had through childhood, who you’re falling out of contact with, but you still smile when you think of them and send them Zelda memes.
The friend you made online two years ago, whom you fell out of contact with that you hope is doing well and still lingers in your thoughts because they still have a small place in your heart.
The friend you only considered a friend two weeks ago, who was the first one to invite you to a birthday party in years, who, even though you turned them down, drew a portrait for you.
The friend you made just this year, who stayed up to talk about God with you late at night, who gave you their candy every week for a month after they found out you liked it, who has a best friend you envy but who always makes you smile.
The father you can’t remember saying “I love you” to but who has stepped up in ways you never expected, who has made so many mistakes but has also shown you love in all the ways he knew.
Even though every relationship comes with its problems, I think it’s worth it. I think it’s worth it to keep reaching out, to keep making new ones and holding on to old ones worth keeping. Because isn’t that the beauty of being human?
