Similar to many modern social media platforms; Tiktok is a factory line thinly disguised as a community. Its conveyor belt runs endlessly, spitting out the same phrases, the same lifeless observations, and the same hollow gestures dressed up as personality. Original thought is drowned under the weight of mimicry, each user clawing at the scraps of recognition by parroting what has already been par... » Continue Reading
Lately, Spacehey feels super barren and devoid of people who actually wanna connect, and not just friend-collect--which is stinkin' boring! Don't be boring!! This blog is 4 PPL who r active in the sense that they'r social/interactive on here or want 2 be, but can't bcuz others don't want 2 be. Does this sound like u?: Has an active blog » Continue Reading
You tense before you touch as if I might give way. The air folds sharp between us, thin as a held breath. I see it coming, the sway before the storm, your mouth half-closed around a word you won't say. The floor hums. We wait for the crack. Throw your light, throw your shadow- I'll stay beneath both. » Continue Reading
I let you move inside me, press me open with your tide, and I grip the edges of myself until your currents fold around me. Every sigh is a pulse against the walls I thought were mine, and I trace your shadow into hollows kept hidden. Your quiet hums beneath my ribs, a weight I learn to wear. When you flare Soft fire, sharp bloom I press back just enough to taste the shape » Continue Reading
You breathe like interference, and I tune myself to match. Each sigh, a signal faint, forbidden, divine. Your warmth hums beneath my ribs, a pulse I mistake for mine. We tra » Continue Reading
The body is never entirely its own. It is a system of ceaseless processes, most of them unnoticed, indifferent to conscious intention. Blood circulates, lungs inflate, neurons fire, and yet each operation carries within it a hint of absurdity: a piston misaligned, a valve clogged, a synapse that misfires at the wrong moment. The human form is a machine, but a machine that does not obey reason, tha... » Continue Reading
I deserve this. Leave me in this lurch. Vending machine swallows my coins Spits back nothing I guess it learned from you. A humming parking lot Bad guitar cable. You text when the sky feels too heavy Then vanish before it clears. I'm a bookmark in someone else's novel Creased and bent There for when you remember the page. You show up wit » Continue Reading
There are people who grow up naturally fluent in empathy, as though the wiring of their minds comes preloaded with a constant awareness of others. For them, emotions pass through bodies like open channels- hurt glances, shifts in tone, all absorbed, all understood. There are those born without this seemingly essential fluency. Those who arrive in this world with the channels muted, the signal weak... » Continue Reading
The word sin is one of those concepts that feels unshakable. Even without religion, even without faith, it lingers in the human vocabulary like smoke clinging to fabric. It is presented as a kind of moral weight, a violation that stains the soul. But if one were to approach it from outside belief, from a lens of science or mathematics, a strange question emerges: can sin be quantified? » Continue Reading
A nonsensical ramble on nostalgia Nostalgia has always felt like one of the stranger human conditions, lodged somewhere between memory and dream. It carries the same surreal quality as déjà vu, that unsteady flicker of recognition where one can’t quite determine if a moment is happening now, or again, or never at all. Yet nostalgia is stranger still- a » Continue Reading
When Beasts Wear The Law: An Analysis of "The Island of Dr. Moreau" This is by no means polished, and is my own interpretation!! Feel free to argue, disprove, and/or criticize anything written here. =3 H.G. Wells’s The Island of Dr. Moreau (1896) stands at the crossroads of science fiction, Gothic ho » Continue Reading
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