I Love Predictions Of The Future That Oscillate Between "eerily Prescient" And "what The Hell Are You

how my aesthetic witchy ass is tryna be, living in the middle of fucking nowhere @ the Utah/Nevada border, praying to the valley stars for peace and wind

Americana Moodboard: The Southwest

there she goes again, daydreaming about her future house and how she’ll decorate it knowing she can’t afford a house in this economy ever. and by she i mean me.

The Arcana: Portia Devorak.

“Jessica has a forehead scar from the deep end of a pool. I ask Jessica what drowning feels like and she says not everything feels like something else.”

— Angie Sijun Lou, “Jessica gives me a chill pill,” published in Muzzle

it's 2022. donald trump has died in disgrace days after being impeached and jailed. my chemical romance's new album is coming out the same day as the new spiderverse movie. the lizzo and janelle monaé collab song is blowing up the radio. lil nas x has a verse in it. you and your partner have time and energy for dates after work after jeff bezos' assets have been seized and distributed to the public in the wake of his arrest for keeping employees in unsafe working conditions.

“sweet and soft as summer, darlings, maple trees in bloom and grass green in the sunny places—”

peter s. kroyer // willard metcalf // daniel garber // emily dickinson, in a letter to susan gilbert

escape from the world in the little countryside, live in the old house, wear vintage clothes, spend entire time reading novels, grow vegetables and have friendly neighbors

jelly

___

day 651

Rico: How come reading tea leaves is seen as this sophisticated, witchy thing but if I slam dunk an open can of Chef Boyardee ravioli onto the pavement in the gas station parking lot to see what kind of soda the old ones think I should buy, foodstuff divination suddenly isn’t cool anymore?

Skipper: What the fuck is happening.

Rico: Why don’t you grab a can of ravioli and ask!