he/him
i'm an aromantic sucker for romance who loves writing and poetry. i LOVe thinking and trying to grasp the world around me even though it may be ungraspable. i always love chatting or having conversations with people, so feel free to shoot me a question or to reblog me with your thoughts :)
you know how i've spent my year,
and i love you, my dear;
but i've warned you, don't come near:
because i'm volatile—
—i'm not worth your while;
because i'm volatile—
my love, it's just vile.
i've gotten myself in here,
with nowhere else to steer;
so i warn you again, my dear:
i'm volatile—
—not worth your while;
love, i'm volatile—
i'm just so vile.
i wanna go to your backyard
and throw a party with your friends,
it wouldn't even be that hard
and it would just be us in the end;
then we'd drive off into the night,
stare at stars and we'd run away
because i think this is right,
so i hope we can do it today—
but i'm volatile—
—i'm not worth your while;
because i'm volatile—
my love, it's so vile.
can we fly into the sky?
i promise, i'll eat light
but frankly, i won't lie,
i don't mind how you fly:
then we'd look down at the clouds,
those cities, all so far
now we don't have a crowd
baby, you're my north star
but darling, don't forget
how lucky we are.
and no, it's not a bit—
i'll love you to the stars.
i guess i'm volatile—
—but maybe, i'm worth your while;
i might be volatile—
—but baby, is it really that vile?
honestly? kinda miss how sugar affected me as a kid. bouncing off the walls n stuff. now i eat a strawberry shortcake and four cookies and still be crying
one of the most stressful situations you can be in is when a parental figure or a guardian you either love dearly or fear deeply is obviously stressed and you can't ask them why
Unless your words are packaged in old weathered leather, stamped in the time of Biafra and littered with dried blood, the doors remain shut.
The gods only respond to the names of news casters and the face of the brand.
Tell me, what age is old enough for me to be wise enough to be listened to?
I have seen my words fall out of foreign lips and be coddled and stroked, worshipped and adored. Out of my lonely mouth they pour and hit the ground with all the honour of a rotten apple crushed underfoot.
Is that what I desire? Honour? Perhaps it is selfish or immoral in some way. I’m sure there is an alarming list of reasons why that is. These days I am more accepting of the bitterness in the tea I drink without sugar. It is purer that way. Some may call that supremacy. I like variation and I move through cycles. I was asked what my favourite movie is and I can name many from my early youth and none for now, defining favourite as most watched, reached for, thought about and remembered. How do I make my words easier for you to swallow? I’ve stopped trying. I am the villain I have been called because I would rather see you choke on them than be suffocated by them myself.
I am told not to look back, no NaCl, but who better to warn me about a pothole than the one who drove over it last? Take more risks and be bold. Be courageous and face the pain when it calls. Sit down when you need to and when you can. Servitude will not save you from hardship but it will pile hot coal on your enemies’ heads. Be kind especially when it’s hard. Laugh and keep laughing, even when it’s inappropriate. Sing but don’t abuse her, she’s precious and surprisingly fragile. She needs to be handled with gentleness. Give without limitation because that is who you are. Never forget who you are. When your Father calls, answer, even if it’s just one word. Show your parents you love them. Forgive them, daily as you forgive yourself, daily. Advocate for yourself, but know when to withdraw and when to compromise too. There are others like you out there, a star amongst squares is no less a star.
Tell me, why do you spit out my tears and say they taste dishonest?
imagine something with me for a moment;
let us both transcend the thinker and instead, for a short while, become the dreamer.
pardon the change in my writing style for a moment, it will make sense.
The eyes that you give to the ones you love are something else, no?
Your full attention, your dedication, your voice reduced to a shy sibilance as you are enveloped in their unabated passion for you.
I remember a moment in particular where I felt the most as though I was dreaming with another.
It was November. A cold night, some special event going on that me and my darling were attending. We had both been dressed up, me in a suit and her in a dress; that dress flowing beautifully and amazingly on her, so much so I can still recall it. Red.
The event had concluded. Or, more accurately, we had decided to leave earlier due to neither of us being the extroverted type. When we left the building, we were met by the pavement below and a lightly speckled sky above that stretched for what seemed like forever—the moon only partially covered by grey clouds that signified one thing and one thing only: rain.
While many others that were stood outside took to umbrellas or to cover to shield their expensive wear from the downpour, she had other plans.
Her brown eyes glimmered in the dim moonlight, the rain appearing to sparkle as it landed around her. It was as if the storm calmed in her presence, if only for a moment. She took my hand and we ran off giggling to a more secluded area where it was just us and the rain.
She looked into my eyes and spoke to me.
"I've always wanted to dance in the rain."
I chuckled, joyful and in love with this woman. Without another word, I took her hand and we began to dance with no rhythm, no pattern, no anything.
The light layer of water beneath us rippled with the lightness of a feather from our footsteps; the reflection of the moon created such an overwhelming serenity that still, to this day, I have been unable to recreate or come close to recreating it.
The rain twirled with us as our lack of rhythm slowly shifted into a slow dance—the soft droplets running down our clothing like liquid gold, shining, sparkling, glinting as our faces grew closer and closer together.
The slow dance, as quickly as it began, slowed to a crawl—and then, finally, to a stop.
We stared into each other's eyes for only a few seconds, but to me? if I ever were to experience a warm eternity—it would be that. Those few moments we looked deep into each other. It was more than a simple stare, no, it was so much more. Not only did we share our gaze, we shared the deepest parts of us. Our souls touched in that very instant, a harmonious chorus of an amaranthine warmth that beckoned the gods above and below—something so strong that, despite all of the pains both of us had felt for so long, had the angels above crying in joy.
And it all surmounted to the one pinnacle:
"I love you," I said, my eyes sparkling with an overwhelming love for this lovely, lovely girl.
And then, what followed. A deep, thoughtful kiss that rattled the very earth—our lips touched, such a soft feeling yet with the power of a thousand suns all in one. A supernova of love. A love so deep, it almost lasted.
Almost.
————
agh, i apologize for all the gushiness. but we find ourselves loving those who broke us, don't we? well, i think we should not forget: there is a difference between loving the person and loving what you did together with said person. i struggle with both, but i've gotten better.
still, sometimes i think of her. it's been a year, and she was so much to me. but it's okay! it always is in the end, i believe.
i know this isn't like my usual posts but ,,, i just felt like i had to get it out
"But you're everything to me
You deepen the red of my blood"
— "as deep as time allows," crywolf
don't forget to love yourself just as much as you loved them.
imagine something with me for a moment;
let us both transcend the thinker and instead, for a short while, become the dreamer.
pardon the change in my writing style for a moment, it will make sense.
The eyes that you give to the ones you love are something else, no?
Your full attention, your dedication, your voice reduced to a shy sibilance as you are enveloped in their unabated passion for you.
I remember a moment in particular where I felt the most as though I was dreaming with another.
It was November. A cold night, some special event going on that me and my darling were attending. We had both been dressed up, me in a suit and her in a dress; that dress flowing beautifully and amazingly on her, so much so I can still recall it. Red.
The event had concluded. Or, more accurately, we had decided to leave earlier due to neither of us being the extroverted type. When we left the building, we were met by the pavement below and a lightly speckled sky above that stretched for what seemed like forever—the moon only partially covered by grey clouds that signified one thing and one thing only: rain.
While many others that were stood outside took to umbrellas or to cover to shield their expensive wear from the downpour, she had other plans.
Her brown eyes glimmered in the dim moonlight, the rain appearing to sparkle as it landed around her. It was as if the storm calmed in her presence, if only for a moment. She took my hand and we ran off giggling to a more secluded area where it was just us and the rain.
She looked into my eyes and spoke to me.
"I've always wanted to dance in the rain."
I chuckled, joyful and in love with this woman. Without another word, I took her hand and we began to dance with no rhythm, no pattern, no anything.
The light layer of water beneath us rippled with the lightness of a feather from our footsteps; the reflection of the moon created such an overwhelming serenity that still, to this day, I have been unable to recreate or come close to recreating it.
The rain twirled with us as our lack of rhythm slowly shifted into a slow dance—the soft droplets running down our clothing like liquid gold, shining, sparkling, glinting as our faces grew closer and closer together.
The slow dance, as quickly as it began, slowed to a crawl—and then, finally, to a stop.
We stared into each other's eyes for only a few seconds, but to me? if I ever were to experience a warm eternity—it would be that. Those few moments we looked deep into each other. It was more than a simple stare, no, it was so much more. Not only did we share our gaze, we shared the deepest parts of us. Our souls touched in that very instant, a harmonious chorus of an amaranthine warmth that beckoned the gods above and below—something so strong that, despite all of the pains both of us had felt for so long, had the angels above crying in joy.
And it all surmounted to the one pinnacle:
"I love you," I said, my eyes sparkling with an overwhelming love for this lovely, lovely girl.
And then, what followed. A deep, thoughtful kiss that rattled the very earth—our lips touched, such a soft feeling yet with the power of a thousand suns all in one. A supernova of love. A love so deep, it almost lasted.
Almost.
————
agh, i apologize for all the gushiness. but we find ourselves loving those who broke us, don't we? well, i think we should not forget: there is a difference between loving the person and loving what you did together with said person. i struggle with both, but i've gotten better.
still, sometimes i think of her. it's been a year, and she was so much to me. but it's okay! it always is in the end, i believe.
i know this isn't like my usual posts but ,,, i just felt like i had to get it out
"But you're everything to me
You deepen the red of my blood"
— "as deep as time allows," crywolf
don't forget to love yourself just as much as you loved them.
i've had to restructure my entire life in the past year and it's been one of the hardest things i've ever done. with this, i've learned a lot about myself and have grown much more self-aware and understanding of things i never thought i could understand. i've learned to be there, to not be gloomy and held up in some state of interior heartbreak as i had been for so long.
that's not the problem. if anything, i've grown so much and i have no reason to be upset at that part of it. the difficult part is what i've had to struggle with for so long now and that i've gotten no answer as to what it was or how to deal with it: why do i never feel real?
Why don't I feel real?
this question has haunted me for as long as i've been sapient. maybe that's an exaggeration but i just cannot seem to describe to anyone how much this hurts me.
i'll describe how it feels, but it might not make sense. or maybe it will. i don't know if i'm alone in this. i'm probably not but i feel so isolated in this problem.
the feeling of lethargy, where you feel so sick and out of yourself. imagine that state, but remove the physical aches and then imagine a dense fog that populates the already clouded headspace. this is the state i am always in.
my eyes feel further back in my head; as if i am so far away from everything—it all feels automatic, like i am no longer in control of my body, my mind, my self as a whole, and oh it pains me dearly.
every time i've tried to bring this up to those close to me, i am given similar answers that never provide solutions. things such as "oh it'll probably go away soon" or "it's just a temporary thing."
if it were so temporary—i would feel like a human being, would i not?
but no, i don't. i never feel like one.
my emotions do not feel like they are mine. nor do my thoughts. my movements, my actions, anything i see, it feels as though it is a construct of something.
as said in the song tenebresence by Crywolf:
"It's an aching, it's a violence
It's a longing to erase the separation
I don't wanna be happy, I don't wanna be good
I wanna be real!"
one day, i swear to myself often, i'll be real. i'll be normal. i'll have everything that i see everyone else with: reality; existence; a sense of grounding in the state that they are in, a feeling of existing, of being someone, something, something more than this dichotomized state of life that i am so solemnly forced to be in.
but alas, i don't see it. i don't see it coming.
one day..?
i have already looked into dp-dr (depersonalization-derealization) disorder but it says that it can always be mitigated with such things i have spent hours trying only to find myself worsened. is there anyone else out there who feels this?
i feel so disconnected. like i'll never be able to truly enjoy anything or be with anything effectively because it isn't mine.
i am scared i will live and die in a body that is not mine.
The prettiest names belong to the prettiest people, inside and out, the people who will make you rethink your whole life and reshape your whole ways of thinking, the people who will be nothing but positive influence and support to you. The prettiest names belong to the prettiest people, inside and out, Ella, Delilah, Niko, these are the prettiest names of all to me
two of my ocs have some of the prettiest names i've ever come up with,, my beloved Annalina and Elial (eh-lie-oll). and then there's the Sillies such as Tricounotaynialana which is by far my longest char name and sounds mostly like a chemical.
but there are some people i've met that. ugh. their names are as colorful as a full rainbow and as pleasant as the sea's breeze;
of course, there's my beloved beloved isabel,
and my dear eve,
that's just a couple examples but others have such specific names i would feel as though i was exposing them, so i will not.
Ofc ml! I hope everything goes well with these people, unfortunately it didn't work out so well for me and my name's but they will always be names I remember
from my experience, the names you remember are remembered for a reason. you'll look back in some time: maybe weeks, maybe months, maybe years in the future but when that day comes, i promise, you'll look back and see just why you remembered that name, and it is almost always because you learned something.
turnnoffyourmind
snowghoul
annaxmalina
izzy806
stormborns
