The Writer's Lair
I'm Abigail. I'm a writer and clarinetist. I'm currently trying to survive high school in America. I'm bilingual with English and Japanese and working on a few other languages.

This blog is where I post my writing as well as reblog things that have to do with music, fashion, languages food, fandoms, photography, writing, social justice, and books.

I am a poet, a social activist, a linguist in training, and aspire to be a world traveler and teacher.

My askbox is always open for anything: ask me for advice, translation/learning help with Japanese, ask me personal questions, random questions, or just drop by and say hi!

Warning: I don't tolerate hate or prejudiced bullshit.

I do tag stuff, stuff I tag is on the "stuff I tag" page, and a more in depth overview of me can be found on the "about me" page if anyone actually cares about that.

I hope you enjoy my blog, and have a lovely day!
11:38 PM


me and my friends asked to act casual for a picture


11:36 PM
Artist: UnknownParamore
Title: UnknownMatilda (Alt-J Cover)
Album: Unknown
Plays: 30,967


can u just get the fuck over here i wanna kiss ur stupid face and fall asleep to ur stupid heartbeat

Artist: UnknownArctic Monkeys
Title: UnknownFlourescent Adolescent
Album: UnknownFavourite Worst Nightmare
Plays: 4,174
"Isn’t it strange? There are so many people out there who secretly love someone. And there are so many people out there who have no idea that someone secretly loves them."Letters to Crushes #513739  (via verenaandrea)

Anonymous: Would you ever consider posting your recipes somewhere? I saw the things you baked on Instagram and I'd love to learn how to make them, they look really nice :)


Surely! Nothing I’ve made has ever been entirely my recipe, but I often do tweak the ones I use slightly to better suit my fancy.


being romantically frustrated is 1000000 worse than being sexually frustrated because you can get yourself off but you can’t spoon with yourself and kiss your own forehead

Artist: UnknownFall Out Boy
Title: UnknownTell That Mick He Just Made My List Of Things To Do Today
Album: UnknownTake This To Your Grave
Plays: 1,387
09:38 PM

You make me want to express things I’ve stomped down and shredded inside me like empty cardboard boxes and discarded poems from my heart turning to ash in my stomach. Words claw their way from my lips, strum suppressed harmonies from the vibrations of my vocal cords, I exhale and sentiment hisses out in the vapor.

I want to paint you a rainbow with my newly learned optimism. Out of the fabric of my good days I want to sew you a new hat, push it down over your ears, kiss the top of your head and send you off into the world with a smile. I want to get everyday happiness stuck in the zipper of your coat. I want to equip the soles of your shoes with an extra layer of confidence even though I don’t always have enough to spare. I want to paint you a rainbow with colors I’ve only just begun to collect in the folds of my mind and the receptors of my irises. I want to craft you a mirror that reflects you in more dimensions than exist in the universe, with more color than nature offers its canvas.

The selfish part of me won’t stop with the rainbow. I want to unhinge my jaw and let the bitter things fall out. The greedy thoughts that I hide in my clenched fists want you to see the places where my skin has been pierced. The child in me wants you to hold my sweaty hand in the dark.

There are so many things I desperately want you to know. Sometimes when it’s night it feels like the air is made of ink. The clouds almost swallow the moon and the remaining visible sliver winks cruelly at me behind its curtains and the air has that chill that sucks the breath from my lungs. I worry about meaningless things like amounts of time and calories I’m ingesting and the random pain in my left leg- it’s probably just a cramp, could be cancer, never had cancer, worry anyway- everything winding its way around my lungs and constricting me from the inside out. Sometimes my mother’s eyes are my demons and I hear her voice when I’m trying on clothes or taking an exam or meeting a stranger. Don’t screw up don’t screw up don’t screw up. I’m fairly certain I’ll never be able to live completely alone. Some nights I turn on all the lights and close all the doors to the less travelled corners of the house and close the shades and curl up on the floor only to realize I’m running from things inside of me that are already behind locked doors, not the outside world.

You make me want to throw open the window and scream at that damned spiteful cloudy moon. Hear me now, demons, I may look alone but I’m not. There’s this guy and he makes me want to use the darkness as a cape and when I brave the blackness the only jumping from rooftops that I’ll yearn for will be the kind that ends in flying higher. Because the truth is you make me want to roll around in the damp grass and scream nonsense at the wind and I’m pretty sure this type of crazy is the good kind for once. You’ve given me glowing words to paint on the ceilings of my closed eyelids, I don’t need a nightlight. I sleep with my head outside the covers. You are the type of comfort that can point to the moon and say look darling, if I close one eye, I can fit that in the palm of my hand. I guess we’re not small after all. And I’d believe you.

I feel like a child skipping stones and most of them sink fast after leaving my hand. You are the stone I’m slipping into my pocket for safekeeping, the one I won’t sacrifice to the slow erosion of the waves. The one I turned over in my hand, contemplating, thinking, oh what a pretty color for a mere rock. And even stranger, the more this progresses the more it feels like you’re really the one skipping stones and I’m the one flying aimlessly through the air toward an unknown fate beneath the waves of a vast entity that conceals its secrets in the reflection of the sky on its surface.

I want to paint you a rainbow. Use it as an umbrella on damp April days. You gave me the colors in tiny fragments of stained glass and now I’m putting them together. I’ll craft something we can share, I promise. I want to paint you a rainbow and we can dance on it. I’m confident it won’t crack in two. We won’t fall through. I want to paint you a rainbow and sit there all day dipping our feet in the passing clouds. I want to paint all the colors on your bedroom wall. I want my hands to fingerpaint a spectrum on your skin. I want to paint a miracle on your soul.


I Want to Paint You a Rainbow 

Original poem by themidorineko

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