deleted_user31415

Eeeehm, hi guys, I don't think anyone remembers me here, but if you do, HI! You probably knew me as Ethan or @oldartbitch and I just wanted to say that I didn't dropped wattpad, even if I just disappeared from this account cause of personal problems. So, my new account is @_sourchild so, if you remember who I am... Just follow me there! I hope you all are great

a small token of kindness [25th june 2022] 
          
          maps of mishaps, fortune stored in cages; where the sun has set, fate has begun its appraisal.
          past and past, walks the line of lotuses; threaded veins and hearts made of needles. 
          daisy deaths and massacres; bodies of dust and rotten comforters. 
          murky predators, red velvet throats; beaches and octobers, stubborn sea salt.
          what hurts water, how can it be pure? venom as sweet as rose poison, lemon juice and milk of a mother. 
          build a home, breathe into life, hold the thorn, hold the daffodil; keep the tendrils of vulnerability under the sky. 
          fight against the clock frozen with ink, the mind that has burrowed itself in air filled with tender knives. 
          
          as water cuts a stone, as snow rests upon the gold; a drop of tear left unnoticed in a desert. 
          hairs and springs of a fountain blue, the stars drenched in velvet; pearls that drown the earth in rain. 
          winks of clouds and veil of the sun; wars a home of the old, the blood soaked land a curse for the young. 
          petrichor rings the bell, the rain carries your shadows and envelopes; fostered flowers caressed by dirt. 
          how many a petal we throw to the forests, radical hope and cottage courage; and when the light is dim, surrender to the storm starving. 
          words and willow trees, pines and fallacies; what is empty, talks, the air and the wings of tongues. 
          how many silences are bribed with the musk of hearts; how many poisoned, entrapped, by the scar of youth?
          they say life is a journey; nay, life is a house that was once lived in; insipid and defensive. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness (09th june 2022) 
          
          mourning shades, earth a rustic moon; candle soldiers, sunset roars. glass of wind, a sea that chimes; struggling lungs, alveoli of pride. circles sacred, birds and barks; persistent melodies, life a screaming scar. half of ourselves, half of earth; skeptical rules and societal lusts. 
          
          summer lightning and thunderous rainbows, yesterday's reflection in today's waters. blooming trains and grieving whistles; gravity a fork, humans fixated. ripening fruit like a sturdy kettle, boiling season as a cloudless friend. 
          
          birds of the night, mediterranean lungs; lace of glory, air a crochet undone. toes of rhythm, seventh sense; sweetness of earth's roots, pears engraved as tendrils in veins. brightness of fog, of a breath fuzzy; life in the woman's womb, a universe- like history. life blurry, a home of shadows; night, death and the womb, bringers of awakeness. 
           #adropofhumanity 
          
          (do not fear the dark; we came from it, we came from wombs) 

I hate when my mother keeps waiting me to finish my shower in my room, it makes me unconfortable as fuck and she keeps spying on my things 

a small token of kindness (18th March 2022) 
          
          a rose from thorn-like death, a stone of heart and a comb of hell, a marker of prejudice, a hall of fright, 
          destiny clad in archer's arrow, a moment of pride, kith and kin, lies, lotuses and legacies, foreign homes and ginger tragedies. 
          
          fragile skins and paper cuts, laws martyred, twilight sun; clinking pedants, olive guilts; dusty hands and blackberry fingertips. autumn of march, buried hopes; leaves lost to skin, a ground of boiling blood. pear yearnings, spring of fall; cavalier sun and half moon echoes. 
          
          marionberry garnet and ruby hearts; fire-like worship, drowning soils. mulberry blood, violent rugs; gardens of night, orchids of flesh. congested wounds, salted shores; lakes of tourmaline, valleys of balsam. bread and sanctuaries abandoned,  cinnamon paper and ochre canvases. 
          
          deer-like details, fogged empathy; rosary of the waves, prayers of the cliff of throat. bruised knuckles, clay air; riverbed séances, grief burns. crescent universe, a child's veil; rosy vessel, magnolia dirt. whether soaked in water or blood, a heart behind the ribs is still a prisoner in a prison. 
           #adropofhumanity 

! Vent !
          
          
          My father keeps remembering me and my brother how good he is to us cause he don't hit us when we do something wrong (since this is completely normal here in my country) 
          Even if he keeps threatening us every day to do so and saying that we deserve it for the most stupid things 

Does anyone wants to roleplay?

Ok but, wtf, why going to the hospital on the USA is so expensive?????
          
          my country may be all f*cked up, but at least we have free healthcare-

I just galloped with a horse for the first time, even if I'm scared of heights and I made it but my father wasn't even looking and didn't said a word about it instead he started talking about college if I really want to do it in another country 
          
          LIKE, F*CK, WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU TO ME PROUD OF ME AT LEAST ONCE?! 

When you're alright but actually you're not alright but you kept roleplaying because your characters are so broken inside as you so everything is alright