And I Died.

don't think about the past it's always there anyways

suicide ideation is so familiar to me that i find it really weird that it's meant to be go away just with a medicine. i fed it and let it roots grew and settle in my brain. it is more than a chemical deficiency to me. this actually became my personality and i don't want to let go

i chase the sun with my eyes down, down behind the mountains and i gaze upon clear night skies behind my fingers; the star we once promised to take care of shines between them. your voice is hoarse from talking too much, you are laying down with an arm under your head and i vaguely remember how talking with you felt like because dust has covered my memories after too many years. i'm still spending the best hours of my day thinking about you

experiencing a sorrow that is so personal is incredibly ugly. pain felt selfless is kind of poetic in a way but when you take it deep- when it becomes too personal, too painful only on your own behalf it becomes so ugly that it erases everything. you turn into an old pile of grief. they way you look- the thoughts. they will flood your brain and you'll scrunch your face in disgust, now you became entirely what you have been feeling. that is who you are right now; broken glass shards shoved under your bed, a sink full of dishes with flies flying on it, the never happening possibility of becoming someone- something. all the figs on that tree is rotten. this is incredibly ugly.

how the fuck

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'sprawling' is a set of four fused and slumped glass dishes inspired by naturally occurring similar visuals such as mycelium networks, cave systems, nervous systems, and aerial views of rivers

the reveal that mizu is not only the ronin but also the bride is so well executed. the way she walks the line between man and woman, white and japanese, victor and victim... it's good fucking writing.