I Didn't Proof Read - Tumblr Posts

3:30am / 211221 

full moon. palm tree. cigarette. hotel lobby. we are your dream. famous monsters. make no mistake. we never wake. we are your dream. we never die. marble mansion. private party. manicured lawn to house strange blood. dry, alone. cruising the hills. meet you in the cemetery. we love dancing. and violence. beneath the dirt. below earth. we are your dream.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ what is wrong with me?  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍fingers entangled in jet locks as she pulls and pulls attempting to soothe that building stress within her. she’d hurt somebody again, hurt them badly. it’s different this time though. her back slides down the bathroom wall, staring at the lifeless body that sat beneath her, his familiar face. his warm smile. his loving eyes. gone. stripped of any animation within them. she didn’t cry, theres no blood on her hands. no evidence to hide. all that remained on her person, was guilt. guilt for being. guilt for existing as she was meant to exist. imagine that, being swallowed by your own purpose. being manipulated to believe something completely new and estranged for it to be instantly ripped away, no sedation. the pull away is painful, its bloody, its tearing. yon lost everything in the blink of an eye. her lover, her guidance, her new way of living. her light. turned off, lost. she’s uncertain, afraid, unsure of the next step. because he would make it for her. what is she to do now? go back to before? she doesn’t think she can.

she’s crying now. that’s not something she’s designed to do. yon’s almost choking trying to slow them down, push them back in, resort to anything that isn’t this. this is weak. this is showing that she isn’t who she once was. she always knew how to emote, how to fabricate emotions and how to manipulate them to her benefit. never to let them fall for another. maybe its for herself, it’s not only her love she lost today. she lost apart of herself. but i suppose, it’s been lost for a while now. maybe it’s finally coming back? maybe they’re happy tears. her emotions are confused. yon’s smiling now, trying so hard to fight it back, it’s turning into laughter. she’s free. but she’s sad? is she? what does it mean to be free? is this pain all a part of it? will it get easier? maybe with time. 

optics fall back onto the body once again and her smile falters. the tears and cries get a little louder. her vision gets a little blurry and the dames began to visualise a woman stood before her. its her. yon felt no anger toward her. or maybe she did. right now she wasn’t sure. the image of the woman is kissing the man who lay on the floor. they’re kissing. they’re loving. she’s taking him away from her. he’s betrayed her. he’s hurt her. he’s made her feel small, embarrassed, tricked. deceived. the one person who has promised her different, promised he would never do that to her. what’s the one thing she’s always done to people who deceive her? yes he taught her different. but, he lied. he’s a liar. yon’s sobbing now. the grip on her hair tightening as she buries her face, attempting to shroud her vision with darkness, completely block out the image that is circling around in her brain. 

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ i’m scared.  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍she showed herself to him. physically, emotionally, spiritually. she allowed him in, she let him stay. but he threw all of that way. in the trash. exactly where yon wishes she was right now. and for why? he had it coming to him? he had it coming to him. the blanche would repeat this phrase in her head a couple of times as the laughter started to rise again. ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ you did this to yourself. you. you asked for this. you knew what you were getting yourself into.  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍yon is talking directly to the body on the floor, addressing him from top to bottom, focusing in on the wound inflicted by an accidental blow to the head. there was a little water on the floor. of course, it’s to yon’s hand he’s unlucky. he’s had the worst week of his life. it would of progressed onto the worst year of his life if he’d survived this fall. 

but through it all. yon didn’t mean for this to happen. she’d never had this guilt, never knowing that she’d hurt somebody this badly before. this being the first human she’d ever got close to, the only person in her life she could barely consider family. who took her away from her woodland in france, to the suburban neon streets of korea. gave her opportunity. a chance at a new life. made her believe he was all she had. in a sense, this became true. whether he knew that or not. she had someone control her, control her life. she loved it. she felt wanted. she felt safe. she felt all these emotions yon hadn’t even believed in before meeting him. most importantly, he’d given her love. introduced her to what that word means. but she’d go along with it right? i mean, there’s no way she can go back home now. she’s living with him. him, his 3 other girlfriends who yon until recently, was unaware of. it’s a little cozy. the names he would call her. nobody ever gave her nicknames before. the dates, the meals. the amazing food. she shouldn’t eat it though. that’s what he said. she appreciated the advice. the i love you’s. not from him, but yon got to say it. before that, she’d never gotten the chance. it was so much fun and she’s forever grateful for it. 

but she’ll never let herself experience it again. ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ 

              its been 2 weeks since the disappearance of mika song. today on social media her family have made a plea to the public for any information on their daughter’s whereabouts. she was last seen with her friend known to the public as  “JO2.”

in the trail of fire i know we will be free again, in the end we will be one. in the trail of fire ill burn before you bury me, set your sights for the sun.

tw: religious topic, religious trauma, gore?, this ones fucked up ok, also its quite long

she drags the red lipstick carelessly, it somehow falls perfectly. the bright tones drawing attention from the darkened haze that lingered in her lifeless optics that sat dormant on the male 2 feet in front of her. a floorboard creaks beneath them, the sound bouncing off of the decrepit oak walls that cornered the two off from the rest of the world, it alarms him. his fear is made evident with a quite tremble. mika loves it. 

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ blessed be. mae jesus yn dy garu di.  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍translation: jesus loves you. she watched as the realisation sets in, oh how she revelled in the dismay.  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ don’t be frightened. remember, nothing shall disturb your slumber. nothing shall bring you harm, uncle. ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ ‍mike raised a hand, bringing it down harshly to collide with his bloodied cheek. there’s a rush. a feeling. it’s strange. it’s powerful. she loves it. mika loves it. any anxiety that might of sat with her from her flight between seoul and wales had left as that glorious sensation sparked through her veins. this was the right thing to do. her blood lips curve into a smile. her hand comes down again. and again. and again. he’s crying. she’s not stopping.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍“‍  ‍ ‍ my child.  ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ she repeats this phrase to him. he’s 45. she doesn’t care. she wants them to experience that she felt. the blessings their god had given her, all those years ago. it’s her turn to deliver the message. through the cracked glass she spots a female, staring unconsciously into the fire that burned in the centre of their little village. her eyes seemed longing, pained. lost. uncertain. she’s muttering something silently to herself, mika can’t quite figure it out. her mother tongue was lost along with the suffering and hatred her brain locked deep away. as the brunette stared at this young girl, there was a tight feeling growing in her chest. with each blink her face got more and more fuzzy. was she starting to cry? why? prying away her vision for a moment to collect her thoughts mika fought the urge to look again. it was too strong. tearful eyes wander back and the girl is staring her way now. except, it wasn’t “a young girl” it was her. mika song. exactly how she stood that night. the night before everything changed. a voice snaps her out of her own head, it’s jojo. her anxiety melts away and she almost immediately wipes away her tears. they have a job to do. her feet stumble as she takes a step back from the male in the chair and adjusts her collar. her hand gestures toward the door and she shoo’s him off with a warm smile. 

jojo questions her, mika responds simply with, ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ he needed to be punished. he was breaking rules. it wouldn’t like that, you know it wouldn’t. ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍she repeats a couple more phrases in welsh before brushing past him to the front door. mike watched as the male scrambled back to his hut across town. the stars above them judged silently as their light kept the night sky alive. everything was ever-changing, nothing ever stayed. but the stars, the sky, they’d seen it all. they knew what she’d been through - what her and jojo had been through. their judgement was beautiful, it was wanted, it was desired. it’d always be there, their emotions may change, their thoughts may repress. but stars don’t forget - not until death. mika didn’t fear death, not anymore. her father always taught her that death is the most beautiful part of life, that to fear death, is to love. fear is the most important emotion, it brings awareness. when you’re afraid it forces you to be completely aware of your surroundings, it makes you truly present. when you’re truly present thats nirvana. that’s pure love. death is pure love. nothing shall disturb your slumber, nothing shall do you harm. mika’s soft hands, drowned in a dark red find jojo’s cheek, her thumb reassuringly rests on the surface, gently caressing it - returning for him that same melt of anxiety he’d awarded her with earlier. her gaze dances between the sky and his eyes, he’s never changing. her friend, through everything. his stare, it was sad. cold. it might be hard for another to see that, he hid it well. but mika saw it. the agony these people caused him,  it doesn’t leave you. like the stars. 

their home, as broken and as fucked up as it was built up to be. was gone. it was gone forever. so why must the memories linger so? why the longing for a home of the past? why does she want to build something so desperately. is it the hiraeth that’s haunted her? is it the desire to prove something to her father who ran this cult before her? is it to give somewhere jojo can feel safe? to give levi somewhere to feel safe? is it to fulfil her own selfish hunger to inflict her her sorrow onto others?

mika’s loving eyes aren’t the same. there’s something bigger behind them, something dark. sinister. it’s a leading emotion, it’s hard to read but she isn’t the same. this place, it’s changing her. the air, the memories, the people, the leadership, god. her new relationship with him. it’s all building on her already fucked up state completely trapping her in a nonsensical way of thinking. but it’s for the greater good. she knows that. jojo knows that. as fucked up as this mentality is, she has people to care for. a purpose. a home. a chance to make things right. to fix things. to fix the mess she caused all those years ago. 

I tried pour painting

My friend gave me a set of old pour paints and silicon oil to use, I've never done pour painting, so this was a first, and even though it was an ugly work to some, I think it felt very freeing to make something not for the look, but the feel, after months of depression and recovery it felt freeing to make this.

I started out trying to make it pretty and aesthetic, a purple and black and white piece of art to gaze at and talk about, nothing more. But as I went on I added acrylic paint, I stored, I tried different things, and I think I reflected on myself while doing so: I used to never show unfinished work, I never showed my mistakes, my fuck ups, I hid them behind walls of insecurity. My life has always been bordered by darkness, a frame around my life that I couldn't overlook. Swirls of red rage and blue sadness blended, emotions always mixing, filling with greyness and numbness. But amongst those swirls were streaks of white and gold. Gold that reached out and broke the borders of darkness, piercing, daring to be seen, not drowned in the gloss of paints. This determination and ambition couldn't drown within me. But even amongst that hope still was darkness, some things don't go away, they just get smaller. I filled that darkness with light, and within that light I would still find darkness, but it kept growing smaller, smaller, till the white and black mixed and became something I could live with the ups and downs.

Then, when I turned my back to wash my hands, watching the grey paint on my fingers go down the drain, staining my finger tips, my carelessness had smeared the center and the border.. and yet, I wasn't mad, the opposite really. The gradient mix of the light and dark felt truer to me, this accident later changing my perspective on something is not the first or last of many accidents that have changed my life, and that's beautiful. As I painted I listened to Solas by Jamie Duffy, the quiet opening that turned into swelling almost enchanting middle, to a quiet, reflective end was enough for me to change a silent painting session where I just played with paints to a reflection of my life over the past few years. A painting that came from a gift, a surprise, something I hadn't known but was given also gave me this freedom that I had been building for months, to sometimes, not care about the here or now, the future and past, but to let paint hit the canvas, carve into the mountains of paint, and just feel it, I saw myself, a reflect, no matter how ugly it may be, because my soul doesn't have to be pretty for others, it is mine and I will love it as mine.