#traumnas

[realitv]

traumnas replied to your post: writing media when they’re soft feels Illegal .

ew

ok clown boy

[thebrainy]

it's positivity time ! give a shoutout to a blog you love !

been wantin to post about how much i love @traumnas for the past couple days anyway.   i’m a long time admirer of jay.   i remember reading and obsessing over his threads when i just seein’ him interact with my pals around on the dash,   and now our thread between It and bob is one of my favorites and a part of my blog canon :’)   love that guy.  his understanding of his source material is so impressive,   and the way he interprets it and writes his muse is so rich and very much his own.   i respect the hell out of him.   he’s also just…  fuckin funny sfalsjdhf 

[sanctamater]

traumnas replied to your post: i am a tired and incomprehensible creature stuck...

just say ur a cryptid and go

I AM A TIRED AND INCOMPREHENSIBLE CREATURE STUCK IN 1903

[onlyvirginsarc]

@traumnas said: they're not your friends. they don't even like you. they tolerate you. they talk behind your back, wondering when you'll just shut the fuck up. beep beep, richie ! you'll see. you'll be all alone.

FUCKING FREAK, FOUR-EYES, FUCKING LOSER - TRASHMOUTH!  MEANT FOR NOTHING  ---  MEANT FOR THE SEWERS.   how you hoped it wasn’t true - hoped that the words uttered from the mouth of an eater of worlds were nothing more than desperation.  but you couldn’t quench the thought.    couldn’t stop that aching that burned in the pit of your stomach.  you’re just a loser, a trash mouth! shut the hell up richie!    words that too often consumed you in the late-night hours.  words that oozed through the fabric of your being as if it were a virus consuming the host.   as if you were nothing more than dead meat and brittle bones with moths and flies consuming the remains.  how entirely fitting - yet entirely unnerving.   ( you’ll float too, richie! just like georgie! they’ll have a casket in your size only there will be nobody to weep for you. )

the words are caught in your throat, heart thudding within your chest and causing an echo in your ears.  a sound so loud it nearly drowned out the guttural tone in which IT spoke to you.   the way in which it preyed - the way it stalked. your hands clutch at the dirt beneath you, untied sneakers kick desperately as you attempt to crawl backwards.  fighting as if you were going to die -- you very well could.    perhaps that what they would have wanted, wouldn’t they?       ( you’ll be all alone, richie! you’ll die alone! right here in the dirt where you belonged! )

       “ s-shut the fuck up! ”     voice trembled, a momentary stutter lapsing confidence.  any bravado you exhumed on the daily only seemed to be failing. the words slipping from eaters mouth cut like a blade only you’re holding tight to hope that it’s wrong.   holding tight to words uttered by stuttering bill months prior at the funeral of his brother.    words of friendship.  words of love -- how you wished that perhaps that would be stronger than the fear that tore at you.

         “ that’s bullshit! you’re not real! this isn’t fucking real. ” 

[sewersails]

this arm could use a little salt..

sugar, spice and everything nice. give me my sailboat back 

[hanlans]

in     the     dark     of     the     night     ,     he     slowed     to     a     standstill     near     the     edge     of     the     canal    .     moonlight     reflected     from     the     low     stream     ,     a     restless     ,     unfamiliar     face     mirroring     back     .     old     and     weary     .     the     sea     salt     air     nipped     at     his     eyes     .     the     breeze     tugged     at     his     coat     .     the     memories     sat     tight     in     his     mind     ,     with     the     question     he     so     desperately     tried     to    avoid      :      (     do     i     make     the     calls     ?      )  

i     know     what     this     town     is     :     an     act     of     violence     .     it’s     kids     missing     .     kids     dying     .     kids     found     in     ravines     .     kids     found     in     plain     sight     .     kids     with     their     torsos     split     wide     ,     innards     splayed     .     organs     and     tissue     and     bodies     picked     away     by     the     birds     and     the     worms     .     caked     in     blood     .     flesh     tightening     ,     then     rupturing     .     sloughing     off     like     wet     paper     .     blood     and     meat     .     rot     and     pus     .

yes     ,      it’s     happening     again     .    no     one     is     missing     .     everyone     is     dead     .     you     don’t     like     this     feeling     ---     like     something     bad     is     going     to     happen     .     like     it     hasn’t     already     ...          /          @traumnas

[bleuebirdarchive]

how your muse responds to danger.

in fight or flight, she’s all fight. veronica’s impulsive and, most importantly, she’s a fighter. especially if it’s for a cause outside of herself, she’s the type to put herself at the forefront of things (given that it help, she’s reckless but she’s not stupid) and if there’s other people at risk as well, her motives for sticking her ground and fighting are that much more intense. veronica has a startling lack of concern for herself so it really just translates into her reaction to danger, immediate or otherwise.

[azsharoth-a]

those cyberlocks....rave queen...

azsha.ra     ,     empress    of    cybergoths     &    ruler    of     raves    !