Some things that have been making me happy!


So admittedly, I saw this movie, like, three months ago, but for the purpose of this post just pretend I watched it last week, I don’t know. Wolfwalkers is set in 1650s Ireland, and follows a little girl named Robyn struggling to find her place in life in Kilkenny, a town that’s been abruptly taken over by Lord Protector. She’s grown up believing the wolves outside their town are terrible monsters that need to be hunted down, but when she meets Mehb, a little girl around her age, and a wolfwalker–human in the day, and wolf at night when her human body sleeps–who makes her rethink everything she thought she knew about the world.

The art style is absolutely gorgeous. Like, holy shit, flawless writing aside, this movie is just so pretty to look at? I’m sure you’ve probably seen clips of the “Running With The Wolves” montage, because it was all over my social media feed a few months ago, but just in case you didn’t, here you go, honestly this alone does a better job hyping up this movie then I ever could.

It was really beautiful, and made me tear up a little bit, and yeah, I would absolutely recommend it.

The Beacon

So, I really love superhero stories done right. Like, when they acknowledge the well-worn tropes of their own genre and twist them, often being really hilariously self-aware… I don’t know, it’s so good, and maybe this is just because the theme of feeling like you have to save the whole world, or having your whole self esteem hinge on being better than other people somehow, or being forced to grow up way too fast–kinda hits a bit close to home for me… but I’m just such trash for them, I don’t know.

The Beacon follows Bee, a college student who realizes she can control fire. It’s like a podcast within a podcast, because the show you hear as the listener exists in-universe, as a show Bee is making to try and reach out and find other people like her with superpowers, who could help her defeat the wolf-lizard who lives in the woods outside her university. It’s smart and self-aware, and to be honest, pretty painfully relatable, with some really interesting themes, and overall just has such a wholesome message? I don’t know, it has a way of always making me feel better. I just finished season one, and I can’t wait to see where this show goes in the future.

The Far Meridian

Another show I haven’t finished, but really liked so I have to talk about it here.

The Far Meridian follows Peri, and agoraphobic young woman whose house has, seemingly randomly, showing up in a different location every day. I’m only on the fourth episode as I write this, so don’t spoil me too much, but oh my gosh, I’m already so in love with this show! The sound design is beautiful, and while I don’t have agoraphobia, I do have anxiety, so I can definitely relate to some of the main characters’ experiences in that department. I really appreciate how the show portrays her, and how getting better is often a very slow and gradual process, and it’s okay to be afraid and take things one step at a time. I feel like it’s probably going to take a dark turn and absolutely emotionally destroy me, because if I were the writer that’s what I’d do, but in the meantime, it’s just a very soothing, whimsical show, and I like it a lot. Oh! The music is absolutely gorgeous, I have to mention that as well!

Alice Isn’t Dead

So, I’m not totally finished with this show, and I actually listened to a lot of the first season last year, in one big sitting after school, got really obsessed with it for a few days… and then randomly stopped. I don’t know, sometimes my brain is just like that. But I still have a bunch of it on my phone, and I ran out of other things to listen to while I was working, so I decided to pick it up again, and now I’m almost finished with season two.

It definitely has a Night Vale-esque feel, since it’s got some of the same people behind it, but it’s also not Night Vale at all. I can definitely imagine them taking place in the same universe of Weird Shit Happening in America.

It follows Keisha, a truck driver chasing her missing wife Alice across America. The deeper she goes, the more messed up she gets in this terrifying, nonsensical conspiracy. At times it’s really sweet–Keisha and her wife have a really beautiful relationship that makes me feel things, at times just strange, and at other times absolutely terrifying, but in a good way. I’d definitely recommend giving it a listen.

Speed round of on media related very nice things I’ve been enjoying of late and feel the need to share with you, dear reader. In no particular order: these fairy lights I ordered a little while ago and have strung up on my walls, this colour changing lightbulb I got, and to complete the funky lighting scheme, this super nifty lamp from IKEA that looks like a big glowing sphere! Macarons from this bakery I’ve been walking to after school, I’ve tried two out of the five flavours they have, once because I was feeling kinda down and wanted to cheer myself up, and once to celebrate finishing my midterm exam! Drinking enough water! Spring flowers! The vague idea that at some point I should make myself a picnic lunch but the amount of preparation and disposable time this requires means it’ll probably take me a while to get up the motivation! This very pretty Penumbra podcast poster I got! Trying to get into nonfiction books!

Feel free to share your happy things in the comments if you want to share, no matter how little or silly they might seem! Hearing from people always makes my day.

Lots of love,


wish fulfillment (3)

oh, the bad days just seem to stretch on forever, don’t they? digging right into your bones, foaming at the mouth, they do not let go or give in. they fight harder, and longer than any sane person could possibly endure and finally break you, when you’re lying on your bed, watching TV.

rather than drinking water or doing your schoolwork or working on that story. rather than taking a shower, or talking to anybody. because i’m so deep down now, i don’t think anyone can save me but myself, so… i’ll sit there, drowning. in a big, grey hoodie, and the same pair of jeans i’ve been wearing for days.

i’ll close my eyes, and wait for the ocean of pixels to carry me away, to somewhere the grass grows green, and the birds sing all day, and help me stay sane through… all this.

and you’re there with me. everyone is. all my imaginary friends, and long-lost acquaintances, perfect lovers i’ve yet to even meet.

and when it gets bad, the walls cradle me close. i take a bath, i read a book, i get the fuck off my phone, and know that right here where i stand is a place called home.

i get changed into pyjamas. wash my face, and look at myself in the mirror. the girl before me is tired, and sad, and there are bags under her eyes. and she’s breaking out again. but if you look closely, you can see a little grain of hope buried deep down inside. and for the first time in two fucking years, she starts to think that maybe, when all of this is over, she’s gonna be all right.


i had an idea for a poem, but i forgot what it was. i guess i just… lost it, like my will to keep going, so now i’ll just scrape along painfully, like a flat tire down a long, dusty road. and hold out one day longer in the name of a stupid, aimless hope.

i had an idea for this poem. i knew exactly where i wanted to go. and i should have written it down, gotten it inked onto my skin, because i know it’s not the end of the world… but it sure does feel like it, ‘cause i’m dizzy, and i’m tired, and i always feel sick. so i worry, but i don’t show it, just put myself high up on the wall like a trophy.

i sit still, and smile vacantly; take it all in. i’m calm, and collected, until when it actually comes down to it, and in the moment i’m needed most i shatter like fucking ceramic. i wasn’t raised for failure, i was raised for a purpose. and i don’t know what’s happening, but i can’t handle it.

and there are a thousand versions of myself that came before, and each one of them haunts me in the night. with their half-mangled words, and their mutated fingertips. i think i’ll join them, someday, no matter how hard i try.

because there is a better version of me, just waiting to be found. with her shiny hair, and her glowing eyes. she thinks she’s perfect. thinks she’s got it all figured out.

but i don’t. so until then, i’ll just have to settle for burning this whole place to the ground.


i woke up this morning, and i didn’t feel like dying, which is kind of a novelty. the snow on the trees cast everything in a youthful glow. has it been ten days since we last spoke, or the rest of eternity? i’m in a weird headspace, and i honestly don’t know.

because these days, i spend most of my time floating facedown on melting ice, watching old ghosts sing out their sorrows deep below. tell myself i’d never sink to their level, and dance with them next week, to old songs from 2010. i create a vision in my head, of a childhood never lived, because it’s the best i’ve got, you know? and i’ll do what i have to, for late nights, listening to songs on your phone.

long walks in the snow, laughing ourselves numb as it all spins out of control. and you’ll hold my hand, even when i start to disintegrate like a layer of old paint on a shitty building. and i know it’s not much, but my standards are low, and so i guess it feels a bit like everything.

i woke up, and i didn’t know what to do. but maybe that’s not the worst thing, maybe fifteen could be the year of sloppy cardboard wings, and promises to keep. maybe i could jump without looking down, and the adrenaline would only serve to help me land on my feet.

and… today could be a good day, against my better judgement, with dresses and sunshine and lemonade. maybe i could call you up without apology, and ask how you’re doing. like a good friend would, and kinda work the rest out from there.

should you reciprocate the question, i’ll try my best to answer honestly.


i want to draw the memories out on that map i found in the glovebox as we drive. mark out the places we’ll go, and the people we’ll meet. and i know it hasn’t happened yet, but just promise we’ll get there, someday, no matter what.

because we’re gonna light up lanterns, i’m sure we will, and write wishes on the tissue-paper sides. and i’ll have a job, and i’ll hate it, but in that way you can ignore when you come home, so it’s fine. i’ll stop being so tired, all the fucking time, fazed by the slightest disaster.

but for now, i pin out contingencies across the dash, and buy myself a bath bomb off etsy. because i don’t know anything about the world, but i want to learn. walk along the old path, all alone, and don’t stumble like you used to. preserve the snapped twigs and press the crocus petals in your favourite book, so you’ll always remember the day you looked down over the abyss, and chose not to jump into it.

i’ll take the long way home, and carve out a path along hiking trails and highways, all of my own. trace the geography of broken promises along my collarbone, and try not to dance on the walk home, a smile breaking out across my cheeks despite it all. despite myself. feel the bruises, and scrapes, and scars, the way my thighs touch, and just let them fucking exist.

not a failed lesson, not the answer to the question, not some holy sin. this is home, this is my body, and i think i’m learning that. ever-so-slowly.