Happy Girl

I am undergoing the process… of stripping away the things that were never me and discarding the beliefs that were never truly mine. For a long while I asked everyone I met and everything I found, “How can I be happy?” After all the removals and discarding, I was left with the solid foundation. A…

Time, Money, Numbers

I want to release my dependence of the constructions of time and value. Too many times I check for the time. I’ve begun the very adult habit of checking my bank account. It’s difficult to say in a way that makes any sense with a little validity, but there is a great misery in depending…

Six Pillars of Growth | 2023 Intentions

What will bring more joy into my life and how can I bring more joy into the world? How can I increase my wealth for more opportunities and experiences aligned with who I am and what I desire? How can I spread goodness to myself and the world? How can I be a better daughter…

control

written 9/16/21 “How much control do I have over myself? Am I kidding myself when I say I can control how I’m feeling, what I’m doing, what I am? I hope it’s just a case of overthinking. I don’t want to turn into something I fear.” ~Sammicakes

(beyond) the nature of the angel

He laughed as though it was against his nature to not laugh. He smiled because it was the natural state of his face. To this being, it was the only way to exist, to present, to experience. This was beyond the nature of an angel. He was far more divine. ~Sammicakes

comfort in familiarity | friendship musing

the joke was good because it was harmless, and it was a good joke because she saw it coming. the familiarity of it, of her, was enough to make a dull life gleam. Thank you for reading! If you would like, please check out my YouTube channel and give my most recent video about journaling…

Love and Understanding | Chapter 1

rough draft of demons of their heart excerpt. the human meets the beautiful fairy tale of his childhood. cw: swearing Upon the highest tower of his palace in which pierced the white clouds of summer morning, Amalla watched the human man hundreds of feet below traverse his way about his beloved rose garden. The human…

Of Ocean, Of Lingering Touch

Long past hum of amethyst waves Low and rhythmic in midnight’s stupor Still buzzing, singing, within the space between ears Linger like its ceaseless touch Against oblivious skin and undressed frame In the dark solitude of sweet velvet night That does not hold home, that does not hold back its yawn With head resting, body…