#imagenary tree

[mistymohloh]

Made in archicad+lumion

#genshin impact #art #fanart #irminsul #imagenary tree #honkai #honkai star rail #honkai impact #3d art

[echosofmyself]

3

i want it all and i want nothing. perhaps i deserve nothing, it's what i mean.

Haven't we all had that dream? of growing up, getting a house just for you, decorating it as you should. Of getting old and buying all that you ever wished for, all that you have ever wanted.

In mine, i get an older house. Maybe those built in the early 1900s, with so many rooms. I'd get my bedroom, and my activities room to knit, and my computer room, and my library.

Oh, my library. I dream of her in dark green and wood shelfs. A velvet coach in the middle, plants all around. A big window with alot of light. The epitome of peace. My safe space.

A never ending dream, a wish even, that will never come to. Reality strikes hard but in these moments, it strikes the harder. I'll never be able to afford such housing. I'll never have my green library.

Sometimes, i dream of solitude. like that one house, the only house in a small green island, with no one around for kilometers. I have thought of that, but in the end, it's not that thati wish for.

In my solitude dream, i somehow end up in this little eden of a forest. I imagine it like the eye of a storm. Everything around it is unhabitable, too dark, to dangerous. But that little top, so hidden from everyone, is sunny. Theres a river that passes through where the water is never too cold or hot. I have a little tree where i built a treehouse, where a strawwith a blanket made a bed, and very few necessties. Sometimes i imagine i somehow have my record player, others, i settle with the noises of nature.

I used to lay in bed, put my headphones and imagine. 'shades of blue' would surround me and i'd concertrade. I'd imagine the touch of grass in my hands. I'd imagine the heat of the sun in my skin. I'd pretend the music was really just the sounds of water, the river liazily trickling by, close to my feet. The grass would be humid from recent rain and the air would smell of wet dirt. I would make this image so clear in my mind, that when i opened my eyes, it wasn't just disappointment that greeted me, but mostly longing.

I'm not even sure where i'm going with this. I'm just writing. I used to write in these little books, but here, in this account that no one will ever be able to find, i feel both safe from other's and together with them. I guess it makes it less lonely, to write it all here.

It's very odd, my loneliness. Sometimes it feels too much (friends cancel, cant pick up, cannot answer and then i lift my head ans realise my life revolves around three people to whom im always second choice) and sometimes not enough ( who needs them anyway, i've been keeping myself company for two decades now, i can keep doing it. In the end i'm all i need). Being with myself is like imagining someone else next to me. Perhaps who i always imagined i would be. I make myself laugh imagining interactions, pretending theres more people in my silent room than just me.

I'm not sure if that's pathetic, i guess i'll leave it to yout criteria. You, my silent imagenary listenner. My other self. The only one who could ever truly get me.