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♥️

queen 0f hearts

i’ve often wondered what it would be like to be one of the people with no internal monologue. you’d think it’d get lonely, but i suppose you can’t mourn something you never had.  she hikes through the brush a tree falls in the woods yet she does not hear it  id like to roll one up with jiminy cricket and pick his bug brain, do you think he’d forgive me for the spider i killed last week? what color are the dots you see on the back of your eyelids? there’s a voice that narrates in my head, that i converse with back and forth to pass the time, that i get lost with for hours, that tells me to play miles davis and eat fruit and sit outside. it is me but it isn’t me. i can’t explain their sound, its lost by the limitations of language.  the landscape of the mind is something that will never be able to be fully communicated between one another. it’s uniquely designed, coded into only your neurons.  how bittersweet, to know that no one will ever be able to fully grasp the world you’ve created in the space between your eyes. 

@cheese333

6d ago

⭐

<3

you know, all i like to write about is love.  writing is easier when it’s about your own personal experiences of grief, of pain but love is the beautiful dove of the two  released at a funeral, released at a wedding. , because the definition is different for everybody. — the trees rustle again tonight, and the wind gently taps on the windowpane, begging again to be let in and my thoughts race farther and faster in the night than a pure-bred, hot-blooded racehorse, bucking wild for the first time my mind buzzes, stricken like a gong, reverberating in the quietness of tonight as i drag myself closer to you, you reach out for me, an unspoken, gentle and devout prayer, asking for me in the unspeakable words conveyed in a whisper through actions – i promised you a fantastical world of your own, where you are safe, through my own creation. i have created for you in the heart of my own somewhere for me to love you,  fully and infinitely with all of myself. if this is not where you are safe, then there is nothing else. –  word by word and sentence by sentence i create dreams i would never tell anybody not even under the skies of a cloudless night. when i sleep, i tuck my hopes and sadness under my pillow and hope a fairy will kidnap it and place in that spot something i should need more. but night after night, my dreams just macerate in the container of my heart. soon, i will drink them like an elixir of truth and what i am afraid of will come

@neiternal

May 2, 2025

⭐

the ocean

there is something figuratively beautiful about the things we know and don’t know, the sublime and mundane and when you visit the beach, do you ever think about if the animals who live in the embrace of the depths remember the beauty of the ocean? where the salt envelops every single one of us,  accepting us as kin letting her wind tousle our raw, visceral edges  and pepper them with her sea-foamed kisses  which tell me that it’s okay to pretend and okay to tell the ocean all of myself the ocean reaches out to me, hands cloaked in the sharp coolness of water and something else- something i don’t understand as I poke around in a tide pool, like a vendor at a bustling market, observing the wares that the ocean has to offer and i turn around and ask her, do the barnacles see themselves? do anemones understand their own beauty, fragile and ephemeral?  i don’t think they do.  but the ocean doesn’t have any words for me, instead shutting my mouth with a shhhh  as her sandy dress rustles down the shore, laced with white foam and gossamer trails of ripples and wordlessly, tells me to look  and i do.  until the sun hurriedly retreats from the wispy radiance of the moon, enrobed in puffy clouds and it's just the three of us. the moon tugs at the ocean’s hand, dancing to their own secret rhythm,  letting me see them in their love. personally, i think it’s beautiful \\ and i wish i had something like it and the ocean laughs. nothing jeering or ridiculing, simply an acknowledgement that i understand. everything around me falls,  like petals cast off from a chrysanthemum. and then, we were wordless  like the ocean had never spoken in the first place.  i want to descend into the depths of the ocean one day, to be hugged once more and never again. not because i am tired of being alive, but frankly within me exists too much zeal to live. uncontrollable surges of wow i am alive in flesh, blood through my veins, and thoughts in my head become more addictive than any form of fentanyl, cocaine, heroin  and better than any gateway into a better life  or a better existence, transcending normality and the moment it’s just me in my head, without the viscous energy of being alive suddenly drains me like a leaking bucket, decrepit and dry. i want to burn like a torch, setting my world alight into embers, into flames,  into an inferno.  Sunrise:: being alight || with a halo of only thoughts and dreams || and the divinity of something new

@neiternal

May 2, 2025

Top Recs from @annaispunk

⚰️

letting grief stay awhile/feeling your feelings

my dad died when i was young. today is his birthday, he would’ve been 64. this day usually passes as normal, but this year i’m feeling particularly sad, and i am trying to feel those feelings fully instead of numbing them

@annaispunk

Jul 1, 2024

👛

i need to carry my whole life with me in my bag

my everyday bag is a large baggu crescent bag, and it is the love of my life. i have a variety of pins on display that say, “help the police-beat yourself up!”, “mean lesbian”, and “the moral panic is about ME!!!” i keep my wallet and coin-purse in the one little inside-pocket, along with lip balm/gloss, airpods AND wired earbuds, pencils/pens, lighters, my trusty bus pass, and an unlimited use kiss coupon from my partner. in the main part of the bag i have a smaller bag full of stimming toys and communication cards (and gum and more lip gloss). i also have a taser, one reusable bag (just in case!), my journal (i’ve been trying to keep a commonplace book), my kobo libra color, my vape, a few joints in a cute kitten cigarette case, and a pack of american spirits (the teal ones are superior). not pictured: owala water bottle and any given crochet project

@annaispunk

Sep 4, 2024

🔔

the bell jar by sylvia plath

i just finished down the drain by julia fox today too!! also you are going to LOVE my brilliant friend/the neapolitan quartet!!!! my favorite books fr

@annaispunk

Jul 17, 2024