• they/them

a cloud between the sky

and the earth

avatar by @SweetSidhe


neocities, my main home
oriananonexistent.neocities.org/
the cohost forum test project, and wherever it goes after
eggbugstestplace.jcink.net/index.php?showuser=2
the website league once it's ready. i'll be exactly who you think i am
websiteleague.org/

oriananonexistent
@oriananonexistent

who will be the first to invent the phrase 'twitter realism' in the mark fisher style. i would like that person to not be me thanks

if we have to lose our minds to do the right thing, then it probably isn't actually the right thing

the world is too big and i must make it bigger

am i your fantasy? your weapon?

bodies and names belong to those who don't live within them

when you risk a gaze into the mirror, is it you in the reflection or someone else's fantasy

is this yearning to not be what anyone wants me to be just another seed planted by someone else?

the choice to do nothing because it's the only choice you can make that's your own

there is a crunch and a lurch and the moon comes crashing down into the sea shattering glass burning forests celebrations in the streets

soap suds sink through the humus and up into the geysers of the hollow earth, catch on a cool breeze and sail around the christmas-light sun

the slow trickle of hope and charity, artificial ambrosia for those unworthy of the real thing /eyes grow from lilies and daffodils but do not look at their tenders/we write promissory notes to little gods as penance for our failures

a heart holding a twitching hand

"What if nobody's to blame?" is the most horrifying sentence I've ever heard. I cannot tear myself apart for the crimes I have not committed, but the little girl raised by wolves chewing on my pineal gland is too afraid to stop

it's less of a 'hollow' earth and more that the earth is filled with pomegranate seeds. the morlocks live in the albedo.

i have finally died. the angel and demon sit at the foot of my bed. unsure of what to do with me, they ask my immortal soul to do the political compass quiz

Everyone says that there's enough to go around, but the mounds of dirt in our backyards tell the same truths as eyes that dart between lips and hands/I'd sell you my soul but it's already buried in the compost bin

space whales are an endangered species

a drop of spittle to put out the fire. it's all they can do/then they ask you to get them a glass of water

a poison made of sugar, endless forests, and tears that will not dry, a poison that we cannot stop eating, a poison we cannot live without

when the frogs went silent, did you celebrate the brief moment of silence before the first snap of a burning twig?

Art goals: someday I hope people will look at my surrealist nonsense posts and try to connect them to conspiracy theories or possibly demon summoning rituals

How many times must we learn our lessons? Rote isn't working.

watch yourselves carefully in the kusama mirrors and dance with slow aching bones

The beauty of nonexistence is that I only exist within you. That, of course, is also its horror

a grove of chanterelles and sprigs of wild onion, i wake between branches of sunlight and flick my rheum into space. what new constellations are born of crud?

There are more ways to enact violence beyond systemic oppression. Forgetting (or worse, ignoring) this will only make things worse. No matter who you are, you are capable of cruelty.

a flock of ravens marry the eclipse

as long as we police ourselves in the hope that it means no one else will have to, this will only happen again.


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