Boxoflives - Home To Wind And Rain

cannibalized by my own jealousy

Envy consumes like a starving fire, Devouring all that's in its ire, Ripping apart what's not its own, Gnashing teeth, breaking bone.

Claws reach out to grab and shred, Leaving nothing but crimson red, Territorial in its gruesome feast, Not a scrap left for even the beast.

Digesting every ounce of worth, Leaving only an empty dearth, Jealousy spares no part or limb, Tearing apart even the strongest vim.

A monster within, hungry and vile, Feasting on envy, keeping it on trial, Until it has destroyed all in its path, Leaving just a carcass, in aftermath.

in the pilot jackie teases shauna abt her “catholic phase” and to that shauna responds that she liked the saints bc she thought they were “so tragic”. in the last ep of s1 during their fight the first insult shauna calls jackie is tragic. she calls her other things too but its so intresting that the first thing she thinks of is tragic. to me thats like a freudian slip. jackie was shaunas saint.

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j. sullivan

The Conflict of Guinevere

Scraps from today

Open

You see, the thing is, some people can just open up. 

They can just crack their hearts open. 

Spill out the truth. 

I can’t. 

I won't. 

Because if I did, everyone would think I was insane. 

Everyone would see me for what I really am. 

A mess. 

An unlovable mess. 

Used and disgusting

Fat and fake. 

Mean. 

Crazy. 

Damaged goods. 

That's who I am.

Not some put-together girl who has a few issues. 

Not someone who knows how to help. 

I can’t help. 

But I can make it worse. 

So much worse.

It would be so much worse if I opened up.

Trust me. 

her loud ass is always screaming 🙄🙄

what if a PROPHET LESBIAN was giving you the SHROOM WILDERNESS equivalent of MKULTRA and you get so HIGH you become a GIRL and another girl but DEAD hijacks your BRAIN and thinks about LESBIAN ACTIVITIES with the LOCAL TERRORIST literally ALL THE TIME

Just saw Heretic and it is so right about the inherent horror in questioning your beliefs, in the dawning realization that the people you trusted were lying to you (sometimes, intentionally), and that the quest for truth can feel like a slow descent into the pit.