Organizing My Digital Library

using "what were YOU doing at the devils sacrament" to mean "yeah i made an embarrassing reference but you understood it which is also embarrassing" is very funny to me

Hello Internet Friends.

Rather a serious post for my goofy blog. I know I don’t have to justify my absence to anyone, but I want to put this out there. My husband, who appears in the bio of my blog, in my icon, and in many of my most popular posts, is currently in the hospital.

We have spent about sixteen scary hours between two hospitals today, and his doctors have concluded he has a lemon-sized tumor in his brain and are planning to operate this Friday. We will not have more information until then but are trying to remain optimistic.

My queue is still full and you may see sporadic posting from me in the next few days, but expect a halt on message replies and asks for the time being.

Much love to my internetters.

mhyverse pls release him from his prison

artbyjulia.png on Instagram

Grief

Grief never really dies, but it does hide.

No longer will it make itself known, beating in time with your heart during every waking moment and clinging to the wispy ends of your dreams. No, no - grief grows smart. It learns to hide in the gaps between breaths, learns to whisper in your ear as the wind blows. It does not linger long, just enough to make you stop and think.

For the unlucky, it may grab ahold of this moment of weakness and pull you under when you least expect it. For others, though, it fades once again, and you continue forth with only faint memories surfacing in the recesses of your mind.

The scars that grief leaves in your mind run deeper than any physical wound ever could. It tries to convince you that you, too, are lost.

Sometimes, you are.

Sometimes, years may pass without any more than a soft sigh or a flash of light to remind you. You may think it gone, that you have recovered. Healed.

An absence of grief is not healing; it is denial. Healing is letting go of the grief, letting it flow past you in your tumbling river of thoughts without fighting it. The sadness may not fade, but it doesn't have to. You learn to live with it.

But there are times when grief festers and grows. It takes over every thought, every breath, every second of your life. It pulls you under, drowns you in fear and pain. You cannot resurface alone, and without someone to pull you up or a rock to grab ahold of, you may be lost forever. It has happened before, and will surely happen again.

Grief is not always the end, but it can be. It never leaves, waiting for a moment of vulnerability to drag you down again. But the persistent can climb their way back to shore - and are the ones to answer the cries of those who couldn't.

Show only fans calling Percabeth Smartwater is the cutest thing ive seen all week

Humans are born wanderers. Don't tell me you don't wanna veer sharp left off this trail and get lost for 30 days. I fucking know you do, deep down. You love it.

Bestie💥💥