[bemysavingrace]

Sometimes, out of nowhere, I remember certain people, certain moments. A tune or a passing details… like a voice, a glance or a fleeting moments…brings me back to a life I once lived. It’s like my mind opens a hidden door, and I’m there again….not just remembering, but feeling it. The same air, the same version of me, the same people.

But now… it’s all layered with a quiet ache I cannot name.

And I let myself dissolve into it, I let myself relive it fully. And there’s a quiet trap in that because it feels beautiful, almost addictive. Yet it fills me with a sudden, wordless grief for the time that was lost, for the people who passed by my life, and for the lives they continued to live beyond me…lives that I’ll never know of.

It’s astonishing to think those moments, those days, are ones I’ve already lived. That some moments are meant to exist just once, in one specific version of us… and then never again.

[raylangivins]

[kosmogrl]

don’t take my defeatism too seriously I will always begin again and again no matter what

[kosmogrl]

I might sound miserable most of the time but at my core I’m a very hopeful person

[bemysavingrace]

a little more heart,

a little more smile,

a sky full of wondering clouds, turning and alive.

where rainbows glimmer in broad daylight,

a golden sunset, tender and bright.

streams that whisper, and rivers that sing,

carrying petals on a gentle spring.

where laughter echoes through trees so tall,

and every shadow feels magical.

a world where you and i trace our delight,

in stories of togetherness, love taking flight,

where happiness lingers like gentle care,

and every corner holds a dream we can share.

here, time tiptoes, and worries take flight,

every moment sparkles with pure delight.

a place where you and i are endlessly free,

wrapped in the wonder of what’s meant to be.

[bemysavingrace]

day by day, I’m becoming more aware. I feel like I’ve gained enough consciousness to carry with me till the end. as they say, ignorance is truly a bliss.

[perfectfeelings]

“I’m not totally mad at you. I’m just sad. You’re all locked up in that little world of yours, and when I try knocking on the door, you just sort of look up for a second and go right back inside.”

— Haruki Murakami

[bemysavingrace]

My god, what is it? What is this constant longing-ness, this emptiness, this strange aching, all this for what?

What is this nostalgia? Like exactly what is my heart searching for? Why am I so restless? What the hell am I craving? What piece of me feels unfinished?

Why do I feel like im being constantly called for? As if there’s something.. something haven’t unlocked yet..a puzzle I haven’t solved yet..

But, good god, it’s pulling me in way I can’t ignore.

[matchagirl]

[kosmogrl]

[kosmogrl]

[emotionalwords]

[weltenwellen]

Fariha Róisín, How to Cure a Ghost

[bemysavingrace]

i was never an early riser, perhaps that’s why I fell in love with sunsets.

morning feels demanding, restless, too bright too soon.

but sunsets? they slip in gently asking nothing,

spilling gold into the cracks of even the worst of worst days.

something about them slows the world down, soften the edges, makes everything lighter.

as if for a moment, nothing is urgent,

nothing is broken beyond repair.

[a-path-by-the-moon]

[bemysavingrace]

What a tragedy is it to be a hopeless romantic, to burn for love with every fiber of your being and and yet still terrified of intimacy.

Isn’t it the cruelest kind of hunger? Starving for something you’re too afraid to taste.

[bemysavingrace]

“I miss you more than I remember you” and when Ocean vuong said it, I closed the book and stared in the abyss for a long minute, wondering how true it is.

Because now when i think about you, your presence feels faded, i just can’t recall the shape of your face, sound of your voice, how your eyes used to lit up when you laughed at my lame jokes or how you always knew my secrets even before I spoke of them.

You see, remembrance is tricky like that, it blurs people into moments,until you can’t tell if it’s them you ache for, or or the ghost of them in your mind. maybe that’s the cruel part of missing someone, it’s always the ache that lingers, sharper than any memories that I can hold.

[bemysavingrace]

Call me Franz Kafka, because I haven’t had a happy days in years and the bugs are starting to look relatable.

[bemysavingrace]

Call me Franz Kafka, because the metamorphosis was supposed to be character development, and not a life sentence.