Category: White Noise

The hum I live inside. Media is usually how I feel without fully feeling. Films, series, music, books… they blur into a constant noise I wrap myself in. This is where I write about what flickers through that static, what cuts through the fog and what stays.

  • Still Mine

    Still Mine

    Written while looping “Mine” by Alice Glass and wondering if pain can ever really become mine again, after someone else claimed it first. ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ It’s easy to romanticize survival when you’re no longer bleeding. People want a clean…

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