3 happy mails! blacksmithing tong blanks and trying on my 2 new components of my outfit for Ren Faire sunday ! this is my second pair of special contacts from them but first pair with a vertical slot
the drama! i survived the bbq (brought vegan sliders, so good) and originally my ex said he wouldn’t come. Then at the last minute, he decided he *did* want to come and he asked the host to ask me if there is a specific time I would wanna be there and then leave so he can show up and I said “absolutely fucking not”.
I showed up. Guess who didnt. ✨🦅⛓️🫶
Also so grateful for my friend throwing me their spare bedroom set but I need a new bed! Its pretty comfy but noisy. I would create WAY more from a sexy space age platform bed like i always wanted from watching the jetsons as a wee angel👼🕯️✨if you want to help go on my wishlist or throw me tips💸💋⛓️🫶tysm
(poem by Sophia Stid) (photo of me by Amanda Brooks at the Salton Sea)
You’ll come across a beach of bones. Small, shaped like cups or petals. It takes nerve. Every step becomes a mouth. The sound, the shape of it. These bones are not articulate.
The fish are drowning underwater. They die with their mouths open. They die with their whole bodies and leave them brittle on the shore. You’ll walk slow because you won’t know the word, which is rxxx, which you’re
not allowed to feel. You’re aware of your body at its hinges: knees, hips, elbows. Collarbones. A hand spread there, the roots of the throat, the open space where the world gets in. Careful with your steps and breath
in this place, beyond care—you won’t touch any more of the landscape than you have to. An upholstered armchair half-submerged in water breathes in and out with surrounding waves. What you think is a swan is a white pelican.
This is California in winter, this is the end of the world. Once, someone you loved leaned his head back against you and said, okay. You shaved his head. The blue bathroom light swung a little—an earthquake, a train on the track—
the falling hair, softer in the falling. You could hear it hit the floor. He said, you’re trembling. Don’t tremble. Everything sinking. An ocean of memory in America— a yacht club decades-drowned, the force-fed fish storing fat
in their tails, farmland that can’t be farmed without making rain. A reservation outside beauty or law. Water so toxic it burns. The fish are cracking underfoot. Remember: his cancer had no cause. There are things you’re not allowed to feel.
the human fly! if you have never seen me strip live-its fun! look up Human Fly by the Cramps and you will see exactly why i LLOOVVEE taking my clothes off to that sound!! 🫶🕯️🥰🤑⛓️✨😭🫠
🌙HELP! ✨ Choose a profile pic from today! Which of these Darling Duskwood photos has you seeing stars? Which angle of this otherworldly beauty light do you vibe with most - 1️⃣, 2️⃣, 3️⃣, or 4️⃣? Let me know