Nothing fills me with a sense of dread quite like the work of artist Chris Van Allsburg. When I was very young, his illustrations terrified me just as much as the ones in Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, but in a way I didn't even have words to describe yet. He was liminal before liminal was cool

Gods' wounds and dogma-shopping

Post a mage! ✨

maid mimic // 7

A life, no matter what one does with it. Something to consider. Are bad people, themselves, bad deeds? A cordyceps of society...?
All the more to watch from behind the glass.
(3/3) #emptyspaces #dollposting

They may not have been someone you knew, heard of, even conceptualized. They may have spouted hate to all who would listen; a firehose of excrement, happy to splatter all near. And they would pay for the privilege! Ah, digression.
(2/3) #emptyspaces #dollposting

A loss of humanity, for someone, somewhere.
Despite all the horror, all the desensitization, whether grand or miniscule, there is something in one that rages, rages against the dying of the light. The Great Inevitable, the "dirt nap", the final sleep. (1/3)
#emptyspaces #dollposting

It's a place that finds you, rather than you finding it. As elusive as the moon overcasted. (4/4) #emptyspaces #dollposting

The library seems to go for leagues and ages, miles and years. Some places free of dust from frequent use, but most of it reeks of petrichor and decay, glue and lantern oil, rain and moss.
A blink, and rather than 15 minutes, six times as long has passed by. (3/4) #emptyspaces #dollposting

An infinite library of memory, inaccessible, but even just looking at the spines fills you with wonder. Who was this person? Were these their thoughts? Second-hand tales? Journals, notes, tomes, scrolls... Any and everything.
(2/4) #emptyspaces #dollposting

A forced rest. Autonomic dysfunction. An introduction to the

S P A C E

of it all; nothing more than a popcorn ceiling, but you can see and feel for miles and miles. A richly-decorated internal world. Purple velvet, dark oak, stained glass. (1/4)
#emptyspaces #dollposting

There's miles and pages between us, oceans of plastic and layers of glass
#emptyspaces #dollposting

It isn't all that bad, you think. Sunshine burns away fog, wind sweeps it away, it's never permanent.
So you stay and rest a while.

A fleeing through your body, or perhaps some kind of other autonomic reflex, from your head down to your feet.
All thoughts swept away, left with a foggy crossroad.
#emptyspaces #dollposting

Every word is kindling, your disgusted tone, the match.

Tap dance across the surface of the river, warm and true.

I promise, through happenstance or accident, you're never be a catch.

If only the river weren't so blue.

#emptyspaces #dollposting

Nothing is "too much". It feels almost empty in its vastness. It touches everything, from tip to toe, wrapping you in a warm hug. You almost don't know which way is up when you don't have the sun. You're simply There. Existing.
#emptyspaces #dollposting

Peace in the deep.
Dissociation is very much like floating in the ocean. Silly rules like air and pressure are not concerns. It's one big gradient, only as far as the sun reaches. But even that giant ball of radiation has limits. Things have all the space to grow down here-
#emptyspaces #dollposting

An infinite expanse of possibilities, starting with creation. A million-million pathways, decided upon with each breath, consciously and not.

From the smallest wing-flap to the greatest hurricane.
#emptyspaces #mothposting

The present is an infinitesimal point at which the future changes into the past

Hands folded politely in your lap, tea cold on the table between us. Your gaze, too, is elsewhere, preserving what dignity I may have left that hadn't fled in the begging, pleading, and screaming from my lips.

No one will ever be so close, yet so far.

We both made sure of that.
#emptyspaces

No matter the sweet notes you can coax from the plucked strings. No matter the polished, like-new smell to the furniture, the decor, the bench, the instruments.

You will never remove the memory and heart of Me from it all.
#emptyspaces

ex libris et vivis
(from books and lives)

An unfinished thing, caught between creation and ruin.
#emptyspaces

An amazing variety of things become edible when you have the proper kind of mouth.