POV: Having Sukoon, shanti and peace. No thoughts of past nor any worries of future, being in present as if you just switched off your mind.
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of course i know what baby trapping is. it’s when you bring your pet into your room and close the door so they can’t escape
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inspired by this, but I decided to subject myself to the mortifying ordeal of Admitting I Like My Writing and start writing out things I like about my stories/thoughts behind some writing choices, but instead I've spent many pages of this journal just crying over how much i love Pete and some of my thoughts/headcanons for his characterization
typical
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I'm reading more classics now. I found a warm feeling of comfort in them, their old words keeping me safe. I'm listening to music I want, songs whose words whisper secrets to me.
from my journal, Of Memories and Flowers.
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ugh what a long day i need to listen to something thatll help me relax (puts on leon kennedy moaning injured noises compilation)
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also like. sporty underthings privilege is stopping at a pond unexpectedly & realizing you can just. take yr shirt & shorts off and get in, and you’re covered enough to silence any critics, and when you get out you won’t be stuck in cold, sodden cotton all the way home??
(boy-ish scout privilege is that you didn’t bring a towel but you DID bring an overshirt just in case it got cold & you CAN in fact dry yrself off with that.)
[anyway honestly all of this is like. much more apparent to me than it might otherwise be bc i did live thru a very brief femme-enough-for-thongs period & i vividly remember the inconvenience factor of having one evening turn into an unexpected group sleepover & having my underwear NOT in fact function as sufficient coverage for a group of ppl not all of whom were my lovers. so like. just being able to casually unexpectedly comfortably strip down now is like. something to be wrigglingly tadpole-ly glad of.]
anyway that is a long preface to say that biking home still gorgeously damp from a pond down a back road in a golden summer evening playing orville peck a little tinnily on yr phone is like—it really washes away everything else for a time, and there you are, just you & the caressing air & yr strong-enough-still thighs moving you wherever it is you want to go. if you can get any of that for yourself—i’d recommend it. i hope you can. but either way let me gift you a little bit of golden evening calm—the perfect light & the quiet like a bath of renewing solitude, or a confiding little flickering flame in yr two cupped hands with the shore breeze curling & eddying around you, wafting & lifting, lifting—that unnoticed / & that necessary, the poem says, only: do notice, actually. notice, & let yr shoulders drop, & let the moment curl around you like a little cat, & lick you with its raspy little loving tongue. make yrself a drink. sit. breathe. <3
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why tf does nobody talk about the fact that dina ass was plotting on ellie from the JUMP!? it’s so obvs in ellie’s little journal entries 😩
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Aaj teri khushbu aa rahi thi,
Kanoo me teri aawaz,
Nak me teri khushabu,
Or vo hathon me tere hathon ko mehsus karna,
Yeh sab teri yaadon me jaan dalte hai.
Afsos, jaldi hi yeh shareer bhula jaye ga sab,
fir yaden bs mastishk me ek tasvir ban kar reh jayegi.
April 12, 2023
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my vibes • 💐📼🎧📸
listening to loud music ♡ buying books at a second-hand bookstore ♡ buying flowers for myself ♡ baking for my friends ♡ stargazing on the rooftop of a garage ♡ napping ♡ reading while the sun shines through the window ♡ watching gilmore girl's ♡ getting coffee on a rainy day ♡ having a picnic by the lake ♡ dancing around in my room ♡ sleeping with stuffed animals ♡ reading before bed ♡ watching movies on a sunday ♡ taking long walks ♡ watching the sunset
inspired by @girljournal
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