Men Be Like— "I Can Hurt You."

Ewan Fernie, The Demonic: Literature and Experience

Half of the words I left unsaid could be heard if he could read my eyes.

I wish rich people went back to keeping artists as pets. Like when you’re wealthy enough you pick a cool weirdo to do regular commissions for you, and if you really want to flex on your peers, you’ve got several.

 And you visit them every once in a while like “hello, I’ve paid for your rent and your tools, have you worked on that commission giant oil painting of me getting sucked off by my political opponent, who is unfortunately still the mayor of this town, like I requested?”

 And your favourite feral art person looks up - mouth full of gravel and completely surrounded by art-related trash like “no, but I designed a helicopter.”

And you’re like “that’s fucking lit, the mayor doesn’t have a helicopter. Please carry on as you have.”

I'm some kind of modern-day narcissus myself. 😎

"A flaw in humanity, the compulsion to be unique, which is at war with the desire to belong to a single unidentifiable sameness."

- Olivie Blake , the atlas six

Like my mother

Like my mother

Like my mother

I need to be beautiful like my mother.

She's the most beautiful woman to have ever lived. But no one knows that except me because no one else has the same wounds as her like I do which can carry the entire truth of her existence. No one else has cried when she cried, bled when she bled, died when she died.

No one else has inherited her rage.

No one else has inherited her grief.

No one else has inherited her bloodlust.

Except me

So I need to be beautiful like her too.

I'll paint my lips to hide the crimson stains of spitting my own blood.

I'll darken my eyes to hide the bruises from nights spent with mania instead of rest.

I'll pluck out every imperfection in my brow until it no longer furrows for men who do not deserve it.

I'll put kajal on my waterline so whoever makes me cry has to see me in all my horrifying anger.

I'll powder up my cheeks to hide the tears my father never dried and put lotion on the skin that holds the scars from wounds I was too young to heal.

Like my mother did.

Because I need to be beautiful like my mother.

Even if it leaves me lifeless.

She has been lifeless for most of her life too.

why are books so expensive all i want is to be lost in another world with haunted old houses and coffee shops and vintage aesthetics and identify with the slightly twisted, mysterious and melancholic characters whose traits i subconsciously adopt lmao

Dark academia is 90% introverts who resort to murder when exposed to society.

“Are we just friends if it's your breath on my neck late at night or if it's our laced fingers beneath your covers? How tightly do we need to be pressed against each other before you admit that you aren't doing this for warmth? How many times does your thumb need to brush my lips before we realize that we've gone too far?”

— tara love/ this. this is too far.

ancient greek word of the day:  θεομαχέω, to fight against the gods