Words / Tully

Looking in the mirror, I barely recognise the aged face that stares back at me, genuinely recoiling at my own image.

The smile lines. The tired shadows under my eyes. The slowly disappearing chin…

But, if I look close enough, deep in my eyes, I can still see a glimmer of the girl I used to be. The girl who thought she could make a difference. The one with hope and faith. She thought what she did might actually make a difference. That maybe, just maybe, she could bring enough goodness into the world to compete with the horrors and anger and fear that plague us.

Ignorance is bliss. 

Her light is fading. Her heart is heavy, her soul hardened. 

But not hard enough. 

She is now lost in a sea of despair. Teetering between laughing at the sheer absurdity of reality, while desperately clinging to hope that in her lifetime something might actually change.

But she knows it won’t. It can’t. 

It is what it is, and the young, optimistic girl I used to be has been crushed by reality. The glimmer may still be there, but it’s only a ghost of the girl who died inside many years ago.

Needle City | Piercing Anxiety

If you know me personally, there’s a good chance you’ve already realised I’m actually writing this for myself. In T-minus 6 hours I shall become a temporary resident of Needle City once again, and adrenaline is already creeping its way through my crybaby veins…you’d think that 11 stabs in, I’d be some kinda tough nut. Ha! Nope.

But that’s not to say you should wuss out. Here’s how I intend on (once again) grabbing my piercing fear by the balls, and taking one step closer towards my alt-goth dreams.

Continue reading “Needle City | Piercing Anxiety”