had a neighbor when i was growing up, a nice man. lived alone with his cats. paid me to watch them when he had to go anywhere.
he insisted once that i was a witch, a priestess of weather. said i could bring the storms.
it always bothered me how hard just existing seemed to be for him, sometimes. he was a good person, and it didn’t seem fair at all. still doesn’t, but i don’t expect fairness, anymore.
eventually balance. but no fairness.
took a long, long walk. wind blowing rain hard into my face. bare feet slipping in the mud. grinning at the lightning, laughing under the thunder.
properly tired, now. physically tired. and it’s cool enough to sleep.
Raven by Old-Man-George
figured it out.
i have been clumsily preserved by an amateur taxidermist. my eyes don’t fit. my joints are frozen in awkward shapes. my insides have been replaced with sand and sawdust.
Today’s photo is from the Mongolian highlands. Surreal to see a frozen lake surrounded by sand dunes.
don’t even have words for how i feel lately. not sure i feel at all, really.
the heat. the humidity. i have this deathless thirst.
no matter how ugly you think you are, always remember—Hannibal could probably make an absolutely beautiful dish out of you.
(My original 99 Life Hacks post)
fuck time. it’s all skin
flakes and dust and shit under
the healthiest thing you did
in weeks was crying alone in your
did you know you can talk
to yourself and you can force
yourself to listen?
you can feel taller if you want to.
you can love the world
from afar and it means no less.
your feet are on the ground.
go do some good shit. forget about
time. you’re alive.
(Source: well-done-hannibal, via loudlyimpliedcannabilism)
I’m sorry, you must be at least a level 4 friend to unlock my tragic backstory