I'm Crying So Hard I Didn't Realize The Haunted Wind Sounds Was Me

My vibe in every way

I always wanted the left outfit, but the faux corset tops Tripp NYC sold in Hot Topic were never flattering on me.

+rose+mortem+

[x] / [x]

Joe used to call me "cute fuzzy face", while gently tickling my beard.

He helped me accept myself.

I used to tell him "You like my body more than I do, what do you think about this dress?" And he'd say he'd think everything looked good on me, better *off* of me, and that he liked me best when *I* liked myself.

I wish I had internalized that more intensely then. I wish I had wore all my stupid cute hoarded clothes for him more.

Underground events like secret movie screenings are vital to keeping cutrual history accessible.

I never would have known the Phantom of the Paradise was a fabulous mess. I never found another person that even *knew* Andy Warhol made his own Dracula movie until the local movies suddenly posted a showing for it.

The tumblr blogs posting Haute Coture runway looks are preserving style for us to continue to be inspired by. I would have never seen or known some of the Westwood or McQeen looks I aspire to when they first hit the catwalk, I was 2!

I feel like pirating media that isn’t sold or offered anywhere legally anymore shouldn’t be called piracy. Girl thats archaeology

Is this a regular event? Where?

Last saturday i saw my friends again at another Infierno Gótico Tropical event (a panamanian goth collective 🇵🇦). We spent the whole night dancing as usual. I met new people and we danced, laughed and talked as if we had known each other for a long time. I already love them! 🖤

We stayed till the end to dance this last song.

song: Latidos - Climas Interiores

THE CROW (1994)

Strange shit I've done since my partner has had seizures.

-gotten up an extra hour earlier to double check his medications for the day are ready to go.

-added a list of all of our friend's/relative's allergies and medical conditions to a note in my phone in case of emergency

-Once, found him still in bed (he was taking a nap) and simply said, "Hey, are you dead?", to which his foot twitch was sufficient indication he was, in fact, alive. He later asked about that, thinking it was an odd dream.

- forced myself to get out of bed and create a space for myself downstairs to work on my crafts. I have to give myself space and freedom, as much as I need to trust he'll not have another seizure.

God, this is so hard to face. I'm definitely going through some kind of after shock. I've noticed that it happens about once a month, and it's consuming.

I'm so tired.

New piece! Am calling her “Skör” (fragile in Swedish).

Assembled from strips of lace, a doily, and some fiddly needle lace and crochet for the teeth. Starched with diluted wood glue.

Perfect in time for Halloween!

(Photo by me)