• happy halloween 2025

    holy lord, i love halloween. i know it’s very goth-girl-coffin-shaped-purse-pumpkin-spice-everything-halloween-as-a-personality kinda vibe to say that, especially now that everything around halloween is so normalized and practically norm-core, but my lord, all that aside, as embarassing as it is, i really do still love halloween.

    i kinda feel like halloween was this one point in the years i would have growing up where things were good for me, or at least not as immediately painful as other times. i love costumes and dressing up and making things. i spent a lot of time with my mother making costumes and these are some very treasured happy memories from my youth. just something about tearing up old thrift shop clothes, putting out shitty plastic blow-molds, carving pumpkins, and horror movie marathons on tv. i remember eating so much candy my tummy would hurt.

    as i grew older, and began to fit in less, i began to feel like halloween was one of the days of the year in which i could truly be myself as a weirdo and fit in, because everyone else was being weird too.

    over the past few years as millenials have aged and the rise of nerd culture really began to take off, halloween has become pretty commercialized and it’s now enjoyed by way more normies than i remember, and hey, that’s cool man, i’m not hatin’.

    i do sometimes feel like there’s a bit of stolen valor when i see the girls from high school who kicked my ass on the daily for being goth, acting like they’re big titty goth gfs now, and it’s like yeah cool man, you almost broke my jaw that one time because of how i was dressed, and bullied me to the very brink of the capacity of my mental health but yeah show me your sick (?) sleep token tit tattoo and tell me more about how you “have always loved goth music”, yeah that’s fine.

    ANYWAYS – i had the best spooky october this year and it reminded me of why i love the season and halloween itself. the weather, the longsleeves, carving jack-o-lanterns with my besties, throwing together costume from a thrift store sheet and some old clothes out of my tickle trunk, and a belt that my now passed friend katie made. i felt surrounded and held by a lot of love this october and it was a very nostalgic experience for me.

    i even bought some halloween nailpolish just for fun.

    being with him, as well, made me so happy, even though it was just this brief time. i had the idea that we should dress as classic figures from greek mythology – persephone and hades, two unlikely characters who found such love and understanding in each other, not so different from ourselves.

    one of my friends told me that being loved is being seen fully and completely, and i must agree here.

    to be seen for who you are, who you truly are, and also, who you are not, and then accepted despite it all, is such an intimate kind of knowledge. there is such vulnerability there and such a place to be held in safety.

    in some ways, i’ve always looked forward to the safety of october, the end of the scorching desert city heat, the safety to be held by a season, to be seen by a moment in time, cloaked perfectly in shitty wet ‘n’ wild black lipstick and nailpolish, the ability to fall in love over carved pumpkins and in corn mazes.

    over the past few years, i’ve felt only sadness during october, during spooky time, my favourite time. and this year, 2025, i have felt so very happy. i have felt so very safe. i have felt so loved. i have felt so grateful.

    in the tarot, the death card represents change. october has been no different with it’s dead leaves.

    i hope you all have or had a happy halloween.

  • esoteric hornyposting

    i’ve got some unused esoteric sex currents for ya

    ok so, i’m entering into what the medical field calls “the follicular phase” which means i pretty much want to have sex and eat chocolate and read violent books from urban outfitters.

    i can’t help but feel like the menstrual cycle is some cruel trick played upon the body.

    can’t i just frolic nude in a field and read books about faeries and jesus without having to deal with any of the profane reality of the disgusting and awful human form?

    why lord, why? why hast thou forsaken me?

    you guys ever see that movie “ginger snaps” where the teen girl goes through menarche and she turns into a werewolf and starts fucking boys and eating roaming neighborhood animals just for fun?

    relatable tbh

    anyways bye

  • october 29, 2025

    i found a bunch of weird 1990s witchcraft and wicca books at the thrift shop today, and for the pure nostalgia and vibes, i picked them up and have been scanning ~*witchy aesthetic*~ realness from back when i was a kid. i made a couple transparent crystals for my tumblr, because lord knows the girlies over there need some transparent .png crystals for all that witchy shit they on.

    anyways here’s a quartz just for fun i guess:

    anyone else get kinda nostalgic over the witchcraft and “occult” shops from the 1990s? such a vibe? i just want some nag champa incense, a silver ravenwolf book, a “goddess” t-shirt and a simpler time, ya know?

    a crappy angelfire website with an autoplay midi of “the goddess chant” with spinning pentacles would cure me, i think.

  • MY LATE FATHER

    The words feel full and heavy inside my mouth and remind me of when I was a child with too many sickly coloured gumballs in my cheeks. I call you my “late father” and these words are wrong and taste terrible.

    You were not late. You disliked appearing to run on “reservation time”, so you liked to arrive early and make conversation about the hockey game or the weather. The reservation was in your blood, the same blood you called “cursed” right before you breathed your last breath in that hospital bed and took the last remains of my family with you.

    Before you left and took your early departure, you talked about cats and the farm, and how I looked like your kokum, a woman who had long hair and heavy skirts and beat a moose to death when she caught it swimming in the river.

    She walked to town with bloody hands and soaking wet skirts and everyone thought she had finally lost her mind until she got the Billy boys to come and see what she had done.

    In your final moments you saw her in me and I’ve studied her face in that old book and it’s so similar to the one I see in the mirror every morning except I have your eyes, that unmistakable mark of the half of your European blood that marked you as an outcast.

    how can i call you my late anything?

    you were always early and you left early too

    Couldn’t you have stayed a little while longer?

    I hear you in my own laugh, and the little sayings, the mumbled words in Cree, and the way I buy old tools at yard sales and order Diet Cokes and ask for extra ketchup. I see you in old grease stained ballcaps and the hockey game score and the buckskins and wear on old church doors.

    And I call you my late father with a mouthful of gumballs and with my whole chest that burns with sorrow.

    April 2025

  • shot on vhs, 2022