did not realise how many of my favorite belongings were gold accented up to this point where my room setup has come 2 resemble an illuminated manuscript page (lots of gold shining thru whites and blues, purposeful medieval callbacks)
my sleep life for a while now when managing to have a vague one 2 begin with: every major sex or death stimuli in my life exacerbated straightforward in dreams; waking up in the middle of the night & not falling asleep again for god knows what; mosquitoes buzzing and crashing and biting on my face most nights; sore eyes, generic limbo
addicted to eccentric nicknaming my friends.. i wake up i smell the mood molecules then anoint you “baby forest moss” “red breasted robin” or “walnut” and call it a day
have come back to hometown to get some of my remaining things for my room, these are the end of august days when blackberries are ripe in the bushes on the hill but the whole heavens are raining and will be tomorrow too, so no morning harvesting walk.. just wanted to climb up some gates and get pricked by the right amount of thorns…
i really like watercolours bc they make me start scraping paper into a mulch state in the bat of an eye. really no point in coloring when one can soak a sheet with a brush and walk on the tightrope between keeping it intact or destroying it
