As We Entwine Our Hearts In This Ephemeral Solace // Part 16

bug with a mug

wisteria blossoms in laomendong, nanjing by 微风吹淡的蓝

Sunken Paradise

--prompt from @nosebleedclub "damnation" (14 July)

Reeds grow out of the drowned cathedral-- caught between the shattered glass and melted down icons, it holds the innocent hostage as we cling onto the parapets.

Long ago, the rivers made up home, and assured us of a direction. Today, oil floats above its surface, deconsecrating the rituals we practiced night after night.

In the depths we learn about each other's habits-- those which sacrifice kindness for hedonism, drinking the remaining freshwater as if it were champagne. Crystal meth falls onto our laps like the snow we only imagined in our lifetimes, but its flakes form a constant map towards a high which only flies high enough to the crumbling spire.

The real sickness is not our own addiction, but the constant chase for something permanent. As the walls fill up with our saline tears, we rescue candles stripped of its musk scent.

Our damnation doesn't contain a murky aesthetic; we call off the parties thirty minutes too late to know when the sirens warn us of our frailty. In a sunken paradise, we can't go on a lonely island-- we are damned to learn the ways of communal suffering, with our sacrifice, we save those who remain.

“If I really care, I'll try like 400 times. But once I'm done, it's over.”

Botanist’s Window 🌱

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I plan on using this method for my trees in the desert.

Look at this giant brain cactus! 🌵😮🧠