gin thoughts
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ginhobu.bsky.social
gin thoughts
@ginhobu.bsky.social
im a 22 year old psychology student | releasing the racing thoughts through art | i draw, yes. | therapy told me to do journal, so here i am.
Pinned
Heed my silent, pining sigh,
Even though tears freely fly.
Lest your promise fade and die,
Longing for you to draw nigh.
Oh! What pining ache awry.
I don’t post here much often for I have been so busy with college (sucks) BUT I love my program so much. 🔱
November 22, 2025 at 9:39 AM
It’s been a while since you left the street.
My heart still aches beneath the hush of midnight air,
Yet tracing gentle shadows of your name across my skin.
November 3, 2025 at 9:39 AM
i think i will be living this quote that i just encountered yesterday:

"if it is to be, it is up to me."

i watched #MayaAndTheThree, gave me a reality check that i needed. this is the mere reason why i love watching movies & shows.

The quote is from William H. Johnson, but the show led me to it.
October 1, 2025 at 4:38 AM
Reposted by gin thoughts
"100 pages of Filipino horror will be available for mature readers. If you know anything about Filipino monsters, you know this isn't for the faint of heart!"

Mine and several other #artph artists' works will be on there! Kickstarter Campaign starts on Oct 1.

www.kickstarter.com/projects/mot...
September 25, 2025 at 1:38 AM
what my sketch book looks like rn..

i miss moo-deng so much!!
September 26, 2025 at 2:50 AM
Reposted by gin thoughts
Reposted by gin thoughts
September 25, 2025 at 7:42 PM
Reposted by gin thoughts
My painting PACIFIC NORTHWEST
September 24, 2025 at 9:52 PM
Reposted by gin thoughts
I pulled a monarch butterfly out of a giant spider web today just as a spider as fat as my thumb darted toward it. The monarch flew off perfectly, unencumbered.

I love watching the monarchs come through this time of year.
September 25, 2025 at 11:04 PM
Reposted by gin thoughts
One of my favorite poems since childhood, and a poem I share every #autumnequinox.
By the 12thc warrior poet Xin Qiji 辛棄疾, sidelined during peacetime, demoted, drifting through a decade of minor posts in remote lands.
Poetry, then, is that which is left unsaid.
“My, what a cool and lovely autumn.”
September 22, 2024 at 11:07 AM
Heed my silent, pining sigh,
Even though tears freely fly.
Lest your promise fade and die,
Longing for you to draw nigh.
Oh! What pining ache awry.
September 26, 2025 at 2:14 AM