O()xxx[{::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>

They should invent a way to send anon hate to your dad

the lover’s song, the song of death.

Carol Ann Duffy, The Bees; from ‘The Woman in the Moon’

Kinkai Central Park⁡ // ラムミ

Music: wadakaoru - Futari no kimochi

haiku #9, tathev simonyan

*showing visible symptoms* oh my god i need help desperately

*symptoms go away for one day* what if im just faking it

i’m the most gender non-conforming war criminal on this space station

no babe i love your fingerless gloves and your fuckass bob, but maybe you should stop hiding behind columns at important diplomatic parties, yes i know they’re scary to you, yes i know you “accidentally” called an alien a son of a bitch at the last party— oh let’s not be dramatic— you’re supposed to be the leader of voltron, babe, not the support beam of a random castle

today in very neurotypical activities, i've made a spreadsheet for all my teas and two tables (one caffeinated, one decaf) i can use by rolling dice to decide which one to drink if i'm stuck

✅ tortured by Voices

✅ cursed by god

✅ small waist

✅ criminal record

✅ died once

Diagnosis: babygirl

Narsil. Broken but not destroyed

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost; in

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.