Jan 14
seen from Maldives
seen from Malaysia
seen from South Korea
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Italy
seen from Ukraine
seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from Australia
seen from Malaysia
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seen from Italy
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
your blog is so aesthetically pleasing i love it omg!!! i was just wondering if you can recommend any blogs you follow that have similar/the same aesthetics bc im trying to find more blogs like mine to follow 💕 anyway, I HOPE YOUR WEEK HAS BEEN GREAT ily keep up the great blog!!
thanks babe!!! i haven’t had the best week because it’s been exams but now i’m free and i’m in london today on an open day so that’s fun! because i’m away i don’t have a laptop with me so i can’t see my most visited etc. but i love @diorhoney @redpetals @redgf @lovlae @driflloon @tomfordvelvetorchid @therichkidsklub and so many more !!
So I experience frequent auditory hallucinations, and right now it's like I'm hearing a million insects (maybe cicadas?) Chirping all around me and it's really messing with my head. I feel like a madman running around screaming "THERE ARE BUGS IN MY SKIN" except that the sound is so stunning and abrupt that I cannot, in fact, run around. Such is not being a madman with this issue, and instead an awkward teenager who sometimes looses sleep to sounds that are not there.
When I create, it's a desperate thing; I feel as though I am indulging in something too good for me and and am stuffing myself to the brim before i am caught. Music, art, poetry, literature, academics, athletics, contortionism- I enter a room and I am one of the best; A jack of all trades and master of each one. But I am so very full of jealousy, still. Passion is such a beautiful thing, it's a shame I don't have the space for it. Watching others go about their hobbies and daily tasks, it appears as though they are creating something whole, and it astounds me that others can do such a thing: commit to their trade while knowing they're time in this space is finite, to be consumed by their craft; to burn alive and to love it, too.
"It is summer, and I am thinking of old friends. Of the me that belongs only to them with nothing to be done about it. The helpless space they once filled. The places I've cut teeth and ties. Heat seeping out of the oven. Electrical wire. I am hoping it is enough to be both angry and alive, because I am not sure I have it in me to be gentle and alive."
"the clock ticks, one spring Becomes another, the sky turns pink, Cities change their names, witnesses die, There is no-one to cry with, no-one to remember with."
"From my rotting body,
flowers shall grow and
I am in them and that
is eternity."
"Mother, there is a grave inside of me."
