Latest Posts by whisperingalong - Page 4
EVERY GIRL IS A MISSING PERSON
I wanted to go out soft, undone at the seams (no stitches, no staples, just silk & surrender)—wanted to be so lovely they couldn’t look away. My mother said I was fragile but she didn’t mean it like glass—she meant I looked like something that could starve in the wrong hands (she meant don’t let them touch you).
I kept secrets under my tongue—names, dates, dosages—small enough to swallow but heavy enough to drown in. I pressed flowers into my notebooks, but they always rotted (always turned black around the edges). I liked the smell.
In school, I learned about animals that eat their young. Mercy, the teacher called it, but I saw the way she flinched. What’s softer than survival? What’s prettier than a girl who disappears just in time?
I wrote letters I never sent, folded them small enough to slip between teeth—I wanted to leave them something [a word, a bruise, a map]—wanted them to know I was never sorry. I picked out dresses for the burial (blue like veins, pink like gums) & practiced lying still.
I always knew how it would end—knew the shape of it, the temperature, the weight. What’s one girl in a world full of them? What’s one more name carved into stone?
turtleneck alpaca
“Some relationships just end. Like a star, they burn bright and brilliant, and then nothing in particular goes wrong, they just reach their end. They burn out.”
— Cora Carmack, Losing It
“I crave space. It charges my batteries. It helps me breathe. Being around people can be so exhausting, because most of them love to take and barely know how to give. Except for a rare few.”
— Katie Kacvinsky
that’s it . nap time . *slams my coffin closed *
they should invent a january that doesn’t make you go through every emotion known to mankind every day
free museum trips are wasted on unappreciative middle schoolers. let me go
ants
De Natura animalium, Cambrai ca. 1270
Douai, Bibliothèque municipale, ms. 711, fol. 24r
I keep thinking about little Dionysus being raised with satyrs in the woods and having no idea he's any different from them.
apologies to anyone who ever thought i was cool and reached out to me only to discover i am just a weird little hermit who can't carry on a conversation to save my life
The pros of writing: writing!
The cons of writing: the horrors!
The only thing holding me together right now is the fact that I'm too tired to fall apart.
getting into bed with a loud “hrrmph” and curling into a ball as we speak
oranges & cranberries
The person I talk to most is myself, and honestly, I think we've started to hate each other.
"you should be at the club" i should be in the woods. performing the ritual.
Maybe if I was prettier. Or maybe if I was more horrifying actually
🌸🍃🌸🍃🌸🍃🌸🍃🌸🍃🌸🍃🌸🍃🌸🍃🌸🍃
May your January be filled with love and healing.
🌸🍃🌸🍃🌸🍃🌸🍃🌸🍃🌸🍃🌸🍃🌸🍃🌸🍃
fuuuuck that is my circus. are those…? yep… those are my monkeys….. goddammit.
crown snake form but its a tsuchinoko
tsuchinocrown !!
Continuation of these comics. I did these two pages several months apart, which is why the bottom page is so much better
But yeah imagine loving your spouse that you ran away from so much you dream about eating them alive
bring back tumblr ask culture let me. bother you with questions and statements
"you're so distant" you literally made me feel like i wasn't important
sorry i was passionate & intense & insane. it will happen again
Reblog to put mutuals in the fish cube
— Nitya Prakash
bitch this is all you’re gonna get. this life, this face, this body. you better not ‘maybe in another universe’ your way out of everything. sit your ass down and face this. go make tea and have a picnic and read a goddamn book. kiss your loved ones, send that damn text, and hug your siblings. this is all you’re gonna get.