Tumgik
kalopsiafaerie · 2 years
Text
Less than a week into the new year and there’s a part of me that selfishly wants 2021 to continue indefinitely. I am still drowning in the same waters as last year. I want everything bad to be packaged into one neat parcel. I want to be able to look back and say, oh 2021 was horrid, but everything got better. Because now it’s 2022 and I’ve spend a fourth of my life having bad years. I understand this logic is flawed but I don’t know how many more dreary years I can take.
5 notes · View notes
kalopsiafaerie · 3 years
Text
When you’re listening to music with headphones and your parents tell you to just play it on speaker since your hearing will be damaged…many issues with that take but mainly: father this music is too gay for preserving the family atmosphere
11 notes · View notes
kalopsiafaerie · 3 years
Text
When lgbt+ artists have lyrics about their lover being the only heaven they’ll get into…they are so lovely and tragic. As a lesbian growing up in church, the pure amount of emotion in those lines makes me feel some type of way. How often were they told that their love was sin? How much must you love to make your own heaven?
543 notes · View notes
kalopsiafaerie · 3 years
Text
truly homophobic of the universe that I don’t have anyone to cuddle with in the library on cold days
2 notes · View notes
kalopsiafaerie · 3 years
Text
I want a girlfriend to draw hearts and initials and arrows with onto winter windows. I want to jump in growing puddles and it’s okay if I’m soaked because how could I be cold when you’re here? I want to trade jackets and rub the chill from your hands. I want to see us blush against the gray skies. It’s November and I would like to say I was yours this year.
73 notes · View notes
kalopsiafaerie · 3 years
Text
It’s really very tragic that so many teens martyr themselves so they can find something heroic within the mess of expectations thrown at them.
1 note · View note
kalopsiafaerie · 3 years
Text
10/10 character design is when they could be made using an ice cream scoop and a few carefully placed sprinkles
0 notes
kalopsiafaerie · 3 years
Text
When you recommend a book to a friend and they send periodic text messages with reactions while reading it <3
7 notes · View notes
kalopsiafaerie · 3 years
Text
Sometimes I get so sad over something that shouldn’t be able to influence my feelings as much as it does. And it sucks that the sadness doesn’t go away no matter how thoroughly I disprove the logic behind it. It’s always the same familiar sadness too, like a weighted blanket soaked with doom wrapped around my little shoulders.
1 note · View note
kalopsiafaerie · 3 years
Text
My parents are angry because they care, and they love through madness sometimes. Yet they are sweet and kind and good. They give love meanly. It is cruel. And it is love. But it doesn’t change the fact that I deserve good love and caring love and gentle love only.
1 note · View note
kalopsiafaerie · 3 years
Text
Random things that make my heart warm: goblincore edition
Taking time to look at the different mosses on the sidewalk. Different textures and shades of green or brown. V v satisfying
Spotting those teeny tiny mushrooms?? On concrete walls, tree bark, old stumps. It brings a bit of cuteness and joy and squealiness I get when I’m around small, fragile, beautiful things
Seeing those creeks that are really just small lanes of water trickling down moss covered rocks and tree roots. Very calming.
14 notes · View notes
kalopsiafaerie · 3 years
Text
The difference in intimacy between thanks and thank you
2 notes · View notes
kalopsiafaerie · 3 years
Text
Brown eyes:
They are home for me. They feel like the warm summer air at dusk; remnants of the latest sunset and the slight breeze and the cicadas. Have you ever looked up from underneath a ginkgo tree? With the fan like leaves swaying and bits of sky peaking through? That’s what my heart sees when I think of brown eyes. And when they glow with the sun and darken with the moon, God, you’ve painted life in those eyes. Brown eyes are coziness and nostalgia and relaxation. Brown eyes brown eyes brown eyes.
17 notes · View notes
kalopsiafaerie · 3 years
Text
Nothing like feeling satisfaction from plants needing you to stay alive because it is a purpose for life however small and then turning around feeling utter horror and guilt that you’ve killed said plant to make you question your perception of self worth.
5 notes · View notes
kalopsiafaerie · 3 years
Text
I don’t want to grow old. I’m terrified of making mistakes when I can no longer explain by saying “when I was a kid...” It feels like the older I get the more my existence is cemented and fuck I don’t want these parts of me to be permanent.
6 notes · View notes
kalopsiafaerie · 3 years
Text
Things that make my stomach feel like one of those butterfly nurseries that are super hot and humid and bright and filled with butterflies of every shape and color:
When they smile genuinely oh my goodness butterflies of every color I feel summer in my soul
Outfits that show collarbone? I hope someone around me knows CPR
When they talk about something they are passionate about like no I had no idea that there were so many pretty fungi and I don’t understand Latin but damnit I am trying if only to keep that light in your eyes a second longer
6 notes · View notes
kalopsiafaerie · 3 years
Text
Squid hands:
“My hands are clammy.”
I didn’t mind until 6th grade, when a boy told me I would never have a boyfriend because he wouldn’t be able to hold my hand. I thought, that’s okay, I won’t date boys.
But here was a girl, who also hand hands. One of which was extended too close to mine for a steady heartbeat.
She laughed. I remember she said, I don’t care, I just want to hold your hands.
That had been sweet. I should’ve offered my hand then. But someone hand been dared to clasp my hand in eighth grade and they had said, your hands feel like raw squid. The next time my mom cooked squid, I could confirm it was true.
My hesitation must have spoke for me, because she said, that’s okay, can we hook fingers instead?
She held up a pinky then. Like a promise.
And god, this must be a novel, how could she be real? I thought it was a dream until my pinky was clasped with hers and the touch was warm and just right and oh. This was love.
10 notes · View notes