(normal) - Blog Posts

BABE WAKE UP NEW IMAGES FROM THE KICKSTARTER DROPPED

just because i want to be killed with a rock doesn't mean i'm a bottom. just because just because i want to be suspended in the fluid—with tubes, cables, catheters connected to my body by means of electrods, needles, insertions—just because i want there to be several individuals at terminals or with clipboards and bic cristals observing me behind their thick glasses and lush tresses obscuring their faces partially with their stacked leather heels softly sharply striking the cold concrete floor of the facility doesn't make me a bottom. JUST BECAUSE nanomachines diluted in the fluid are stitching up a wound in my side while my hair undulates .. wistfully.. . just because equipment is lowered into the tank with me guided by the low whine of servos—listen: just because my hips are drawn on their own, wistful like much else of me, to the smooth ridged tip of the machine doesn't mean i'm a bottom okay?

Normal clothes? Pfft! I dont think so!

Someplace unfamiliar

with every step. 

I move further from this earth. 

This being ive become. 

clouds once looming over head,  

now just a haze someplace below. 

That place. 

One I never knew and will never know. 

Could never know. 

With every wish Ive held my breath. 

let down. 

Im running out, t 

urning blue as that very color fades from it. 

Those calming words you spoke to me. 

That calming voice, 

bringing sanity. 

as there once was… 

again nothing will be. 

Prolonging pain. 

Inducing change. 

a short glimpse at clarity. 

The night provides the day. 

fire, the beauty of the flame. 

And the ashes, 

the perfect place, 

a clean slate. 

I don’t fit here

I don’t belong

I stand out like a sore thumb

My hearts too soft

This world’s too hard

I hold on to details

It disregards

I’m on the outside

Staring in

I’m not like them

I don’t fit in

My hearts on my sleeve

I can’t hide it within

Yet I consume judgement

Until it’s part of my skin

I let it fester

Let it rot my soul

Until I’m spiralling down a familiar hole

“I don’t fit here”

I protest from outside

On the sidelines

Is where I’ll always reside.

-JF-

Crazy world

Crazy life

My brain just ain’t right

All my life

Is a fight

For my right to be classed as normal.

What is normal

I hear them scream

Take one of these pills

And you run to the hills

The wind will give you the chills

The sun will over heat you

The trees will underestimate you

The ground will run with you

The birds follow me

With a tweet tweet,

And then all becomes a silly retreat.

Into my own

I hear them

But my brain ain’t ready for the final call

Because if being normal is you or me

I would rather pick to talk to that tree.

@trueemotions91

Normal people by Sally Rooney

“All these years they´ve been like two little plants sharing the same plot of soil, growing around one another, contorting to make room, taking certain unlikely positions.”

I don´t really have an opinion on this novel, only emotions, which probably is the best compliment you can give a writer, even if the emotions aren’t entirely pleasant ones. But then, pleasantries are not what books are for. Normal people is an incredibly simplistic book, and I mean that in the best way possible. The language is light and easy, because it doesn’t need to be anything else to fit the story and its characters.

Marianne and Connell grow up in the same small town in the Irish countryside. Connell is, despite his shyness, quite popular and well-liked, while Marianne´s opinionated personality and her overall weirdness makes her an outsider for her classmates. Because Connell´s mother works for Marianne´s rich family, they get to know each other outside of school and start sleeping with each other, only to realise how much they like each other and how close they have grown. This ends before they go off to college, but there, they meet again. Now, Marianne has a big group of friends and is highly admired, whereas Connel struggles with fitting in at Trinity, especially because of his social status. Still, he and Marianne find their way back to each other and stay close over the next years, sometimes romantically involved with each other, sometimes as each other´s friends or confidantes.

“It´s not like this with other people.”

With them growing and growing up, the relationship is constantly shifting. I wouldn’t call this novel a love story. It is more that these two people have an understanding about how they are respectively, and who they are to each other. It is a story about life and about growth and things that happen to us and things we do to ourselves and to others. It is, needless to say, a wonderful story.

„He brought her goodness like a gift and now it belongs to her.”

i’m normal about this

get a ROOM you two GEEZ!

Bro hehehehe, I don't know what to draw

I am soooo normal!!!

hehhheyhehheyeheyhe I love quietly giggling to myself at midnight on a school night because of a silly book from an object show