ON THE ROAD TO RUIN

Grief, both concrete and comfort blanket.
It’s the only way to cling to the echoes of other people,
to pretend their voice still lingers in thinning air.

You toss back your coffee like it were vodka.
You still drown your sorrows before starting your morning,
you just do so with more of a spring in your step this way.
Others mistake the energy for perkiness,
but you prefer it this way.

May they never trace the breadcrumbs
back to your inevitable demise.
Collapse is best done alone.

Creative Writing Challenge – Part 2 – March

Ready to keep the ideas flowing? Our monthly challenge helps you spark new stories and stay creative. Try writing a short film — it’s a fun way to build your skills and explore new concepts!

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Creative Writing Challenge – March

Join our monthly challenge designed for writers who want to spark new ideas and keep their creativity flowing. Stay inspired and build your writing momentum all month long!

More Info.

Sip life’s sweetness with hummingbird joy. When we Focus our energy on what nourishes, we return to kindness again and again, sharing sweetness freely, and keeping our spirits in constant, beautiful motion. Onwards! +

Hashtags: #Hummingbird #RubyThroatedHummingbird #BirdPhotography #NaturePhotography #WildlifePhotography #HummingbirdPhotography #TexasBirds #NatureLovers #BirdLovers #ZenMoments #HoustonNature #WildlifePerfection #TinyWonders #InspirationDaily #FeatheredFriends

Grand Mormon 🦋 – (Papilio memnon)

Wanted to draw plenty of Forrix but God my head hurt a lot today so looking at a screen would be torture

Have my Master of Havoc instead >:o

Here’s to him as a character with other Astartes instead of with poor serfs and his wife uniweapon

I know the first one is too small for an Astartes let alone an Iron Warrior (these Mfs are most likely wide, tanky and tbh scarier looking than when they are armored)

Also Thio’s helmet should be all levels of fucked up l, as well as his power armor. His armor serf must be one of the most skilled engineers in the Imperium 😭😭

MUST BTW cuz he’s killed less skilled serfs for not tending to his beloved uniweapon’s dreadnought levels of complex weaponry wiring enough. This man is thoroughly in love with his metal wings (no srs if they were a girl, he’d date, wine, dine her, give her every shred of his humanity and tenderness 1000%. His wings are the reason he’s not *quite* as emotionally repressed as most of his brothers tho; he’s got the machine spirit within to converse with :D)

Oh I’ve got a small backstory for his uniweapon (that he made himself which the weapon masters and Mechanicum did NOT like but begrudgingly approved of):

There’s these women in Brazil who have dresses that sort of look like a table (I do apologize for this likely slander I’ll learn more about them as I write his character out ^^’).

They do exist in the Age of Strife also, but… they’re now basically battle servitors that have auto cannons everywhere. Every year, the more plentiful gun tribes of Sek-Amrak do choose some girls to become these servitors in order to better defend wherever their nomadic lifestyle took them. Thio had a crush on one of the girls chosen which kinda wrecked him… until he got kidnapped by the V11th Legion and later taken into the IVth Legion.

Let’s just say that he enthusiastically volunteered in close combat that day where his own tribe would bleed for defying the Emperor. Why? Well, the Lovesick Blight kinda took full force of him since he got taken when he was FALLING for that girl. Sooo yeah he’ll have some fun in ripping these servitors apart because he’d rather have her dead than have her ‘live’ in this much torment.

He then took scraps of the servitor he strongly believed to be his love and over the decades, began building his uniweapon.

You do anything to it and he will at best make you suffer horribly, at worst request you be used to fuel the ship with promethium (which will kill you by rapid amounts of radiation) or some other terrible dead end job.

He’s a fun flavor of insane

Elle dort paisiblement 💤🐶

Let your inner light shine like a buttercup. Bloom where you stand, embrace your inner beauty, and watch how your light brightens your day, your path and the world around you. Onwards! +

#Buttercup #Wildflowers #NatureCloseUp #MacroPhotography #SpringBlooms #NatureLovers #GoldenHour #FlowerPhotography #ZenInNature #ZarateZen #AlexGZarate #WildflowerLove #InspireDaily #NatureIsHealing #SmallJoys

MISPLACED APARTMENT KEYS

When homeland and foreign land
can lay down their weapons,
I’ll be at peace.
I run on false assumption that return is always a possibility,
forgetting that home is more concept than reality,
more ghost than body.

It is an object I never know how to hold.
I fumble its edges before it falls to the floor.
It doesn’t quite fit within my searching fingers,
no matter how many times I try to carry it with me.
The baggage is easier to hold.

There is a pressure to perform,
an expectation of gratitude for living in a country
with pothole-free, well-lit roads.
But it is forever a complicated road
for someone who’s half-here, half-there.
I kiss the notion of feeling complete
as I embrace the lifelong conflict
only an immigrant understands.

Real😭

The Eyes of Seidenspinner | OddityBobbles | Ellipsus

I’ve been working on this for a while, and I’d like to post the prologue of an original story. The story contains a plethora of Queer characters, a unique magic system, and body horror.

Every noble House in the Dominion bears a gift from the gods, and a curse as cruel as it is beautiful.

House Seidenspinner sees what others cannot: prophecy and the secret threads of fate. But for every vision they call down, more eyes open across their skin, until their bodies are maps of staring sight. With a new batch of heirs taking their place in society, Saga Seidenspinner must take their place as well.

Saga has always been told that prophecy cannot be changed. That seeing the future is not the same as steering it. But the moment they step into the citadel of Veritath, the threads of destiny start to twist. One heir dies right as the season begins. The stars themselves shift.

Among rivals and would-be allies, Saga finds unexpected bonds: Maris Lovelace, a charming debutante who bleeds whenever she tells the truth; Ilhuicatl Citalpopoca, a star reader who believes the constellations are being rewritten; and Edda Paternoster, a medium haunted by their ancestral dead. Together, they uncover a conspiracy that runs deeper than any curse.

As heirs fall and curses awaken, Saga must decide whether to uphold the old prophecies or destroy them.

“oh man how’d you pull that-”

I didn’t pull shit. I gave a single, long, lonely call into the void and they came. I called, they came. Not out of devotion or loyalty or love or pain but out of curiosity. They heard a kindred spirit out on the planes of life and decided to take the chance and follow it. I called. They came. Out of curiosity, out of surprise they weren’t alone. I didn’t pull any red string of fate, we weren’t guided by any other hands, all I did was say, “I’m here. I’m ready. Come find me.”

And someone called back and said, “I’ll find you.”

My best tip for anyone trying to get back into reading is to remember that you can read books to avoid other responsibilities in your life, and it can become a vice if you play your cards right.

— love drop @ lovedropsx (March 12, 2026)

Always capture life’s wonder with an open heart. When we find beauty in every horizon, we share our inner light, spreading our pursuit for better and brighter tomorrows. Onwards! +

#PhotographerLife #BehindTheLens #NaturePhotographer #SelfieWithNature #LakeSunset #GoldenHour #NatureLovers #OutdoorPhotography #AdventureAwaits #ZenCreations #CaptureTheMoment #LandscapePhotography #PhotographerOfInstagram #ZarateCreations #AlexGZarate #Onwards

This is Disciplinary Action by Onley James

Still recovering

been sleeping on and off all day

thinking later once it gets dark and roads get quieter I might go out

Jack Kerouac (with Peter Orlovsky and William S. Burroughs taking a nap fully clothed on a beach in Tangier, Morocco)

Cut of the Claw-th

He was an odd one, that clumsy lynx

Always so focused on his flaws

In the silent isolation, he sinks

In the morning light, he slowly blinks

There were just too many laws

He fell too far behind, that silly lynx

The song of the clock chimes and clinks

Lead is what makes up his pampered paws

In dark water of uncertainty, the lynx sinks

Swaddled in fear, the lynx shamefully shrinks

As if placed in fate’s jaws,

He cries and trembles, that little lynx

He worsens his problems as he drinks

Heavy and alone with shaky paws,

His choice was made for him as he sinks

Gone are his family ties and links,

Gone are the impossible laws

Still ever alone, this insecure lynx

He sinks.

—sammy

Creative Writing Challenge – March

Join our monthly challenge designed for writers who want to spark new ideas and keep their creativity flowing. Stay inspired and build your writing momentum all month long!

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HEADS / TAILS

When met with urgency,
I lean into split-second decision.
How I wish all choices were that easy.
Tossing a coin.
A quick roll of the die.
A game of rock, paper, scissors.

Instead, I weep by my bedside to a God
I believe in (on the good days).
I speak to the silence
like it’s an afternoon bartender,
knowing it can listen but will never twist my fate
into something more desirable.

I have to wonder if it’s cynicism
that walls off my connection to hope,
whether there’s any at all on the other side
of a growing barricade.