Icon from a picrew by grgikau. Call me Tir or Julian. 37. He/They. Queer. Twitter: @tirlaeyn. ao3: tirlaeyn. 18+ Only. Star Trek. Sandman. IwtV. OMFD. Definitionless in this Strict Atmosphere.
it’s always hard to get to sleep when you stay up past the “old world dying” part of the night and have to sleep through the sounds of the new world struggling to be born. like aagggh fuck it’s the time of monsters again, god damn it
self love is a process where you reduce the amount of separation you have to experience to be able to look at yourself with compassion
like first you can look at a baby picture. that’s an infant. she is innocent. then you allow yourself to smile when you see yourself in a photo album, at say, age seven. the hard bit is to stop cringing at you, ten years ago. then you might be able to forgive you, five years ago. maybe you can understand then, where you, four years and two months ago, was coming from. sure, you don’t agree with your sixteen-year-old self, but you get it. you start wanting to hug her instead of yell at her. you, nine months ago, was actually doing her best. you from half a year ago was doing all she knew how. you, last month, made a mistake. and she’s sorry, and last week she felt joy and it wasn’t embarrassing. you from five days ago ate lunch on the grass. the you from the mirror this morning is that seven year old child. you are soft and new and it is good that you exist and you can still be soft and new and it is still good that you exist. give your baby photos a kiss
