tw sa/sh but what’s the point of having a blog and never using it?

i’m back on my vhs glitch bullshit, and here we go again. i made a vlogmas trailer/intro;

but i don’t know if i’m doing vlogmas, even though i’ve been filming.

i guess i should make my glitchy witch bitch 2021 youtube intro soon.

other videos i made since then include but are not limited to:

(this one got me a kind of okay music talent scout email!)

these were (mostly) so fun to make!

i included SA/rape/domestic abuse helplines in the youtube post for the video where i cover little mix and mention that user9429450 aka my ex casey, who i loved deeply and fucked up around too, but who honestly fucked me up worse after i left another ex for being emotionally abusive and physically threatening/breaking my stuff. he was not what i needed. he sexually assaulted me, which i woke up to, while he was drunk. i’ll include resources below:
https://thehotline.org
https://ncadv.org
in the USA, you can call 1-800-799-7233
crisis text line: text SUPPORT TO 741-741

i’m listening to miley cyrus’ plastic hearts album, and telling you about it for a blog post, livejournal style. but this is not livejournal. this is wordpress. golden g string is a banger; a very good song. i feel like miley cyrus has grown hugely in the past several years.

i have a new boyfriend, and gel nails he paid for (the nail tech was tipped generously and i politely complied when they asked to take my temperature)…everything should be okay. depression and mental illness still has me in its raw-thistle-hands rough-bleeding-wounds-skin choke-hold-kill situation… but i did also switch to a new antidepressant, well, restart an old one; wellbutrin. it has helped me in the past. it works on dopamine, not your serotonin. it does lower your seizure threshold and increase that risk.

i changed my twitter and instagram urls. at first they were private, even ig, but i have uin-privated my mains. so, if you check those, check that out. i updated the links here. i’m sure my stalkers and harassers will be thrilled.

i want to write more. i want to read more. goals for 2020 – or tomorrow?

you can join my discord server, where i spend a lot of my time, automatically if you have discord & have it linked with patreon, and you pledge $1 or more to me/month. this is the link. the url is just zelie, like so many other things.

i love you all. as i vape thc, i wonder about future plans tattooing myself and learning to use a machine and power supply, and shader needles… not something i’d recommend to most… but i am allergic to metal so piercings are difficult (i learned this after piercing my tongue and nipples, oh no!) and besides, my favorite therapist i’ve ever had, who was good at therapy, told me that tattooing myself is an acceptable alternative to cutting myself. so. i win (i always win.)

anyways, mostly i just wanted to update you all! remind me to post more. love u.

xoxo

a short update today

i wrote another poem. this one is in video form – i spoke it aloud to my microphone and i set footage i’d shot to my voice speaking about death, rot, suicide, decay, life.

tw suicide, but here it is:

i might actually be proud of this one.

xxoo
zélie thorn

trying, writing, breathing

I am trying and writing and trying and writing. I am breathing and breathing and bored.
I am dissatisfied with almost everything, from the downright insufferable
To those who are in pain, maybe the worst they’ve known, as it gnawed
At their bones and their joints and their blood cells, plasma running full

Bleeding and getting back up and being full of life, but perhaps too much so
Trying and trying and trying. Am I still writing? I’m not sure.
Running as fast as I can from a past that I miss and I go and I go
Repeating words like it makes me some kind of linguistics connoisseur

Writing and breathing and slowing my heart rate, no longer a wild horse
Hooves on the dry mud and grass as it races alongside its kind
Passion hurts, so we avoid it. We get bored faster and faster of course
Your phone is smart but you won’t be if you never pick up a book, feel its spine

Read the words inside. Kiss the ground and thank it for your pain.
Stop numbing yourself just because it feels better that way
Take small measures to improve your life, every day, work hard to stay sane
Avoid the hospital but avoid harming yourself too, find a method to being okay

I am writing and I am trying and I am writing and I am breathing. I am breathing and I am safe.
The bones of my body are covered in layers of flesh that decays slower than I could ever breathe
Oxygen keeps me alive and it ruins me, my love, my life, not my reason but something to chafe
Did you know there is no point? Yet there is so much to do, so much to see!

Find the good and the bad, one cannot exist without the other. If you can only see one,
Well then hopefully it’s not the bad (hopefully you aren’t teenaged me),
(early-twenties me, current me, me’s in between, oh such fun!)
They delivered the paper parcels and I lied, again, you see.

sucker clown

the joke is on you; the joker’s on you? he’s a canonical rapist, so maybe. maybe i look just enough like harley quinn that i’ll suffer through another rape or several in my lifetime. i think about that, statistically. i think about anorexia mortality statistics, and bpd mortality ones.

the joke is definitely on me. i am a harlequin, and i am but a statistic, yet i sit here, recently diagnosed at the gi specialist with anorexia nervosa.

when i was young, my cousin oa was anorexic. i love her very much to this day. it didn’t scare me then because i didn’t realize how sick she was or how miserable she was or the hell she was putting her fragile body through. i now know these things. i kind of wish i didn’t.

oh, to think about rape! what hate fills my mind; what anger i start to know; what bitterness is forced upon me like a net around a fish being caught! too much trauma – i become the bitter borderline bitch (bbb)… i get flashbacks, but not nearly like i get ptsd from my suicide attempts. or intrusive thoughts of suicide related to attempts i’ve made and attempts i haven’t made (yet? hopefully never i make them?) that is definitely, most definitely related to my ocd. i have obsessive thoughts about suicide & death, i know this now.

funny how the passage of time changes things so. you realize this more and more as you get older. hopefully it stops at 27 or 28, because i can’t take too much more.

listening to charli xcx, again to mention it as if i were on livejournal. again. still my theme does not reflect this, or my last.fm, not that that would be a thing! it of course is not even scrobbling my plays – do i know this? – no, i assume this. – okay, i’ll check. – – – yes, i was right, at least the ones i am mostly playing, on my amazon music player. i signed up for a 90 day trial, and now i am listening to charli xcx sing “i got my friends by my side and that’s all that matters to me” […] “aWOOO”

those capital letters were a typo, but i cannot do anything but love them and keep them there, in what feels like their rightful place within this blog post.

my harley quinn bleach bleach bleached blonde bleachy baby hair is of course, bleached, though not recently. soon i will tone my extensions! for now, here is a deceitfully lit and filtered picture that appears to show my extensions matching my hair, though they are far more yellow:

i’m known to be quite vexing

lol.

okay, that’s plenty for now. i’m filming everything anyways. are you following me on youtube yet?

youtube dot neoncherry dot pink

that above url goes to my youtube page! so. there. enjoy?

xoxo

PS i’m having an involuntary clown moment. leave me alone re: this!!! and that.

save my wet blood and my coffee-stained tongue

those tights are good, but they’d be better torn up more. your existence is fine, but if you could be a little more self reliant everyone would appreciate it.

i recently announced stuff on instagram, and you can go look if you want, but whatever. i don’t have it in me to talk about it here, too, now.

i moved a lamp and suddenly, the room is inviting. am i that stereotypically a cancer sun? i want a home; not an apartment! it is a nice lamp that i bought from target with my ex boyfriend well over a year ago because i was, and still am, into the color champagne, because a girl i am nostalgic for the friendship i once shared with her, she loves the color champagne now. very differently from her old self, she proudly declares it her favorite, and i appreciate that still, though since i stopped paying attention to her. a feat! for a cancer sun, especially.

the lamp shade is cream-champagne-off white with silver thread through it so it shimmers just enough. the base is oddly shaped and probably acrylic but i like to pretend that it is lucite. it takes a standard american lightbulb.

on the coast, where the air tastes salty, somewhat far from here (too far to taste the salt!) there are photographs to be taken, so i intend to continue living. other places, too.

i wish this wasn’t relatable

i will, though, be brave! impressive, no? if i do it, that is. i intend to commit to the task.

lana del rey croons into my ears and i let her, i make her, even. on repeat. it helps. it soothes. i ordered lana del rey cds recently. i’m sure in a year or so when i get around to editing that footage (!) i will show you the cds in their shiny plastic packaging when they arrive in the mail. i know they’re coming via usps because of course i do; i check tracking numbers obsessively.

sabrina!!! you are not allowed there

that’s all for now. i’ll keep it oddly optimistic (not actual-optimistic, just for me it is) before i ruin it.

xoxo
zélie