#in this

[soulreapin]

I feel like there is a divide.

I am on one side, and then there is a divide that drops thousands of feet down, and on the other side is the Bible, sitting on top of a pew.

There is life in that divide, and the parts of me that do not dig their toes into the gross red dirt of the cliff I stand on are falling straight down into it. They twist-mid air so that they face the sunlight, falling so far so fast that the wax of their wings is nothing but the memory of whistling metal.

Finding my way up the side of that divide has been…a struggle. It gets darker and darker, my chin slipping underneath the water’s surface, but because I can still stick my hand out of the roiling, spitting waves, it’s all just fine. Everything tastes apathetic, and apathy itself burns to look at, the name to a feeling I have been shoving down, down, down all my life until I can’t see it, can’t hear it, can’t even taste it in my mouth.

But aiding my weak hands has been the concept of religion. I find a particularly deep foothold and throw myself up the side of the wall, and my shoulder slams into cold glass, but just for a second, my cheek presses against it and there is warmth and light. If my head is turned I can hear music. Particularly lucky passes show me images of choirs holding candles and empty pulpits.

Then I fall again, reaching out desperately until I find a lip in the rocks and hold fast, but the memory of light through glass and the idea that that glass will break is enough to spur another try, another yank of my shoulder out of its socket.

I toy with the idea of going back to church. Walking in, breathing in stale air that smells like wine and communion and a hand to hold, and sitting down right in the middle, sandwiched between mothers of five and the devout. In front of me, the divine, and behind, the disgraced. It might fix me, being so close to those words, breathing them in and letting them run in my veins, but I am not so sure it won’t break me.

Religion has never extended a hand to me before, but it has also never said no, walking into a church has never pulled the rope any tighter than it was. It is what I will make of it, and whether that is beautiful or barely hanging on, I don’t know. There must be a something, an anything to keep one foot tucked in front of the other.

But do I deserve it? Will I walk in and sit in that confessional and pour my heart out to the man on the other side, and realize that when I look up, the sun is gone and my life is cold, salvation too far out of reach for me to bother with it now? I need this cross around my neck to mean something. I need it to be clasped between my hands for prayer and not just to jolt myself back to life. God has done nothing to me or for me, letting me stray down this path but walking beside me all the while, and I need all that to just mean something other than I am hopeless and beyond safety. He hums in my ear that to live is to sin and to sin is to confess, and the me from before that kept my chin down to my chest grits her teeth and shelves the knowledge.

I’ve sat in a church before, not a mega-church but something close to it, but I was too young. I was young and concerned with making it to the next day, and then the next, message and meaning going in one ear and floating out onto the empty seat next to me in the back of the church.

There was no stained glass to float rainbows through the room, but there were metal trays and communion crackers and a sick feeling in my chest that for a reason I refused to look at. She was not meant for church grounds, but she is me and I will be worth it to run my fingers over the thin pages of the Bible and feel Eve’s forehead press against mine, because we are in this and out of it together.

Both come in, and both will come out.

I need something to believe in again. Living show to show, game to game and practice to practice isn’t getting me by anymore. It’s all slipping away from me. The words in my mouth taste like dust. Even if I have to fight to hold on to this one thing, go to war just to keep my fingers tucked between the thin pages of David and Goliath, I’ll do it, because having something to fight for is better than having nothing to live and sin for at all.

Religion seems like it will and won’t do it for me. I’m afraid to get bored of it. I’m scared to look into the face of Jesus Christ, nails through his wrists, and whisper into the still air that his sacrifice cannot hold my attention. I am not afraid that he will be upset with me. I am afraid that he will offer me a sad smile and a hand to hold and say, “I know. It is not your fault. You, sister, are forgiven. ”

It is my fault that I do not stay and I do not keep my eyes open. I am not deserving of the forgiveness Jesus affords me. But I will try to earn it with every twist of my necklace and crack of my fingers. Gradually, I want Bible stories to replace the half-moons dug into my forearms, the rosary cradled in my hands instead of dirt. Wine will replace water.

It is a start, I think, light beating through thin white glass. I can feel the heat through it that sinks into my fingertips. It is a start.

#some more personal writing tonight #ive been struggling with religion for a long time and i figure it might not be a shot in the dark to assume someone else might find meaning #in this #so here it is #writing #original writing #short story #religion #religious imagery #religious trauma #even? #idk

[lucrezianoin]

Astarion in this

Marazhai in this

#astarion #no actually i changed my mind #marazhai #in this #rt being like these are the famed clothes of my people

[arithechair]

Got bored while listening to music and started drawing

#supermoon au #cause you see hes like #in this #so i cant just not tag that #uhhh #doodles #ive got no idea what else to tag #this is always a problem for me #augh

[abrahamlincolnscat]

Harambe didn't die just so you could sit around harass minorities online

#shitpost #meme #harambe #yes im making a harambe meme #in this #the year of our lord #2023

[redeyeflyguy]

Wonderful Things That May or May Not Be Wonderful!!! This is Goldlewis Dickinson. He was the first DLC character for Guilty Gear Strive. He is the first United States Secretary of Defense to also be an active duty military officer and his weapon of choice is a coffin on a chain with a very handsy alien inside. With this extremely unorthodox flail, he can perform his signature technique: Behemoth Typhoon. It looks like he just swings the coffin around but it is oh so much much more than that. You see, in fighting games, most special moves have one or a few variations. When you press B to throw Mario's Fireball in Smash, you only have that one kind of fireball. In games like Street Fighter or Marvel Vs. Capcom, you can have two to three variations of one special move by using a different button for different results. Behemoth Typhoon has SIXTEEN VARIATIONS of itself. How is that possible? Well, I could explain but it might get technical and rambling so here is this neato chart (it should be noted that he can use this move in the air so that's where the other eight variants come from)….

As you can hopefully see, the way you move the control stick to perform each variation is the same as how Goldlewis will swing his coffin in the game. This allows for a greater connection to the move making it feel awesome to perform and it makes all the variations easier to remember (which is good considering the chart). Plus, while they all have different quirks in their speed, trajectory, and impact, they are all powerful and one hit will send the opponent reeling even if they block it. It is one of the most unique fighting game special moves I have ever seen and it is a blast to pull off. If that still doesn't make sense…well, it's a big burly Texan politician who doesn't mind getting his hands dirty clocking fools with a coffin from Area 51. That's wonderful no matter how you dish it out.

#wonderful #behemoth typhoon #in this #guilty gear strive #special moves #fighting games #arc system works #goldlewis dickinson #powerful #awesome #control stick #area 51 #coffin #flail #technique #it's not a big deal #charts

[bi-buck-coded]

#i am in my happy place #my face is here #in this #i guess thatll be my face reveal tag from now on #idk when else id post my face #maybe louis tomlinson

[allo-frouto]

What is your favorite toy friend ?

I am torn between a vibrator and a plug.

#<3 #but #I love both #there is no lie #in this #hihihi

[mrsmarymorstan]

I got a blaze post for a Dave From Homestuck Body Pillow....

#I mean kudos to the creator you do what you gotta do #but also I did not know that Homestuck Body Pillows were still a thing people were interested in buying #in this #the year of our Tiger 2022 #morstan meta

[mt10lt20]

AC Z/6/7 - The Wingmen’s perspective (slightly shippy)

Count: This group date fucking sucks! >:(

Shamrock: For the last time Count, can you stop calling this a group date? We are on sortie!

Pixy: Yeah.. For once I agree with Shamrock. I would never want to go on a group date where people start yelling “Missile! Missile!” or where I need to get random guys off my partner’s ass.

#ace combat #ace combat 6 #ace combat 7 #ace combat zero #In this #AU #Everyone uses the AC7 missile alert audio system #which gives me nightmares #Galm and Garuda finally agree on something #Count just wants to have some downtime #shippy stuff

[mieledoll]

okay im drawing my friend's bald barbie fashionista in a lolita dress.

#im putting #way too much #effort #in this #it actually looks pretty good #tbh... #i love lolita dresses

[pastelsandpining]

the arranged marriage brainrot😭

Also, miphvali mafia au???? I must know more

arranged marriage brainrot 😭😭😭😭

also i did not expect this one to be as popular as it is LOL so!! @louwhose and @novantinuum this one’s also for you guys!!! ehehe

this is an au i’ve been brainstorming with @scitradraws and @embywolf where revali is in the mafia basically!! the brainrot is real with this one! revali is there to pay off his family’s debts and mipha is the world’s best nurse that gets wrapped up in all of the #drama

here’s a snippet!!

“Revali,” she said, and he had the feeling she’d been calling his name for a while. Still, he bit his tongue and did not respond. What was there to say, anyway? Apologize for almost getting her killed? That was not a conversation he ever wanted to have, and even if he should, he didn’t plan on starting now.

But she’d always been hard to ignore, hard to brush off and turn away from. The hand that wasn’t holding his chin carded through his damp, fallen hair, brushing it aside, and she spoke in that soft voice that never failed in making him weak,

“Vali, please look at me.”

It would ruin him if he did, but he was a dead man either way. His eyes raised from the floor to her face, and he took in the sight before him: her fringe stuck to her forehead, smeared mascara from the rain, her eyes pleading and hurt. Revali let slip a quiet, resigned sigh.

“There are no strings attached in the mafia,” he told her, his eyes sliding to fixate on the light switch just behind her head. It was easier to look at. “No one ever gets attached. This is why.”

#miphvali #obviously they’re both like #humans #or hylians #in this #coz a bird mafia is a cool concept but very out my range #i love it sm #it gives me sooo much brainrot #and i’ve never wittten miphvali before but man #do i love them #thanks for the ask!!!