hellvenum reblogged
My pigeon's growth. Day 12.
hellvenum reblogged
Detail of a gravestone in Shebbear, Devon
hellvenum reblogged
Send me a 🎧 and I will put my music on shuffle and give you a song and my favourite lyric from it
My mind is a hot summer day,
one of those without escape
from the heat:
I mostly burn away,
but even when I get to leave
the sunny rays
I still can't breathe
the heated shadows
suffocate me.
dysthymia and other problems || Hellvena || Do not remove credit, do not use without crediting me.
Do I need you?
More than I need
To breathe
I want to die
But I don’t want to leave you.
How I used to feel || Hellvena || Do not remove credit, do not use without crediting me
It’s not decent - but should it be?
We’ve ruined lives, we all have
We’ve fucked and bitten and cried and yelled
All of us stabbed ourselves in the heart with a fucking stake
So trust me when I say this -
We have no need for your fancy Sunday brunches in white dresses anymore
We ate church and produced the devil.
Nam || Hellvena || Do not remove credit, do not use without crediting me.
Old sketch - bath.
And another sketch - this is just drowning.
Old sketch - washing it all away.
Supernovaeclub prompt: drowned sailors
I was told sex with a girl was heaven, and her pussy was paradise, after weeks at sea, alone. But it was the most earthly thing to me, to make love to my love. Heaven is not real and by the gods, no, by the holiness that is this world, she was real. Her thighs were real. Her tongue was real. Her hands, her hands were ever so real.
-
I was told drowning would not hurt. There would be panic for a few minutes, and then you would pass out and die. Drowning in her did hurt, drowning in her words and world and will so violently I almost lost myself. Yes, it was an act of violence. On both ends. The way I kept gulping in her water and the way she kept pushing me under. I gasped, then drank. She cried, then laughed. And pushed. And pushed. And pushed.
-
I was told death is the end, the final enemy, the one unconquerable. Death is neither end nor enemy, conquering is nowhere near an appropriate description to what I did. I thrived. I gulped and drowned and drank until I didn’t. Yes, she killed me, but I survived.
HEAVEN IS A MYTH
And they know it
And they use it.
Heaven is social control
And us poets,
We are criminals
For romanticising it.
And us poets,
We are rebels
For taking it
And twisting it.
Out of religious control
We urge it
We fight the purge.
And us poets,
We are animals
For using it
Abusing it
Heaven is a literary revolution.
Click images for full text
What is a singular moment? If I think of a minute, I can think of a second. If I can think of a second, I can think of particles of that second. So what is a singular moment? Time is a construct upon something ever-fluent. Even the tiniest interval passes, does it not? So what is a singular moment in this endless movement?
Hellvena
you´re my 265st follower. thank you and have a great day:) well... the rest of it ^^
Ooh i only just saw this, sorry! Thank you and have a nice day too!
I USED TO BE COHERENT
hellvenum reblogged
Als het moet, dan ga ik niet. Die belachelijke machtsverhouding moet maar eens over zijn. Jij bevindt je zogenaamd boven mij omdat jij gezond bent en je hebt besloten dat jij alles beter weet. Maar als het moet, dan ga ik niet. Ik weiger jouw tirannie van behulpzaamheid te voeden met medewerking. Waarom stel jij dat jouw blik van buitenaf een beter beeld schept van mijn situatie? Want als het moet, dan ga ik niet. Jij noemt mijn subjectiviteit een vloek, ik noem het de sleutel tot kennis. Bovendien is de objectiviteit die jij beweert te hebben een illusie. En als het moet, dan ga ik niet.
Onbeschreven opgeschreven. (via gevleugelde-woorden)