Inside my head

Hi. It's very nice to see you! Thanks for checking out my blog :) Here you'll find mostly poems and quotes. Enjoy my little posts about life, amazing person~ There are some links below:

[thesweetiepienovels]

“No one is coming to save you.” I disagree ! I believe many people made up of many small moments come to save pieces of you , even if just briefly. The mentor who believed in you . The friend who said they’re proud of you. The family member that makes you laugh . The random person who held the door for you out of nothing but kindness. The teacher who took extra time to help you understand. The person who smiled at you when you walked into a store. The little kid who looks up to you. The person who randomly complimented you. Being “saved” isn’t about being whisked away and all your hardships gone, it’s about the people and things that remind you life is not all hardships, it is kindness, love, gentleness, softness, care, thoughtfulness. It is many moments made up of your lifetime that keeps you going and showing you the world is still beautiful, and will always be. Despite.

[tsarina-anadyomene]

okay what are some excellent recent poems

[m-accost]

A. E. Stalling's vilanelle "Burned"

You cannot unburn what is burned. Although you scrape the ruined toast, You can’t go back. It’s time you learned The butter cannot be unchurned, You can’t unmail the morning post, You cannot unburn what is burned– The lovers in your youth you spurned, The bridges charred you needed most. You can’t go back. It’s time you learned Smoke’s reputation is well earned, Not just as an acrid, empty boast– You cannot unburn what is burned. You longed for home, but while you yearned, The black ships smoldered on the coast; You can’t go back. It’s time you learned That even if you had returned, You’d only be a kind of ghost, You can’t go back. It’s time you learned That what is burned is burned is burned.

[dandelion-poems]

Unlovable

Another one leaves.

No door slam,

no apology.

Just the echo

of someone deciding

I am not worth the staying.

And I—weaken-,

swallow the questions like glass.

Is it me?

Am I the rot

beneath the bloom?

Do I smell too much like

abandonment

to ever feel like home?

There must be something in me

that curdles love,

something bitter that burns

tongues that once whispered forever.

They always leave gentler

than they arrived.

Like they’re tiptoeing

out of a house

already on fire.

I’ve grown used

to loving with trembling hands,

used to people kissing my wounds

only to reopen them

on their way out.

There’s no funeral

for the slowly forgotten.

Just silence,

and the unbearable

ache

of still

being here.

Alone, again.

[thoughs-are-emergent-properties]

The world is grey. The greyness of it all gives me peace. It is impossible to make any meaningful distinction between sea and beach and the mist of rain makes it hard to even distinguish the skies from the seas. It all blends together.

I know that in the distance, buildings loom. I think I can sometimes see them - the port embracing the sea and the towers piercing the mist - in moments when the rain subsides, never long. Bland apartment buildings and cranes with flickering lights. The city is far away still. It is where I am walking to, uninviting though it may look. Appealing or not, I have a long way to go. This gives me comfort, as I am not ready to arrive.

As the plain skyscrapers vanish into another cloud of rain, so does the clarity of my mind, while I trudge along on wet sand between sea and beach. Until I see someone else. I am not in a mood to approach any living soul, except… this one is quite alive. She is dancing in the cold wearing swimwear with the only colours I have seen in hours, swimming in the mix of shower, sand, and salt water with happiness that feels out of place. Before I know it, we are face to face. She looks at me and I feel invited to look back. She does not appear shy at all, instead showing me the final moves of her dance which ends in front of me.

'Hi. I thought I was alone,' she says. So did I. Silence falls while I realize I have stopped walking now. 'Nice moves. Sorry for uh, interrupting.' She thanks me with a gracious bow. 'I don't mind.'

I remember that there is no town nearby, not as far as I can see. And no-one outside anyway, except the two of us. It makes me wonder what takes her here. I want to ask, but I feel I have intruded enough.

'What brings you here?' She asks me. 'I'm walking.' 'That, I can see.' 'And you?' She shrugs her bare shoulders. I understand: this conversation, like her, is going nowhere. While we are only getting colder.

'Aren't you cold?' I ask, vaguely pointing at her attire. 'Yes, I really am, and tired. It's why I need to keep dancing. Aren't you lonely?' 'I am. It's why I need to keep walking. Will you be here for long?' 'No,' she said. 'But I'm not coming along. I need to feel the cold a bit more before I go back. Just as you need to be alone.' We understand each other and I go on. She is slowly swallowed by the mist behind me. Soon, she is gone. But as I continue, I remember her kindly.

[thoughs-are-emergent-properties]

this thought is unfinished

so while i'm writing this the rhyme reminds me to reminisce about time left behind something amiss

remembering the present feels like assonance that suddenly stops.

like the comfort of the familiar mixed with the uneasiness of an unanswered

[dreamingandsuffering]

love letter to a father

i used to pay kids no mind until I found out you have a child and now i can't help but wonder

i'm at the store and i can't help but wonder do you let her in the cart as you walk through the aisle? do you buy her snacks every once in a while? do you say no when she begs for a toy? or fall inevitably for her smile?

i see a child on the street and i can't help but wonder what's it like to raise your daughter? which parent would she prefer? are you already a pro at it all? or still rather an amateur?

i'm at an aquarium and i can't help but wonder do you hold her hand or let her run free? do you point at all the fish for her to see? do you pick her up to show them closer? or take a selfie as a memory?

i'm having dinner and i can't help but wonder how much butter do you spread on her bread? are you the one who puts her to bed? do you give her a hug to say goodbye? or press your lips to her forehead?

every single day i just can't help but wonder what's it like to start the day with you? what's it like to be loved by you? what's it like to hear you say goodnight? and to spend a whole life with you?

[vvingless]

I cannot let go. This is my great flaw, i grip every thing i love with both hands and sink my teeth in for good measure.

[fairycosmos]

i don’t like how endings in real life come on so suddenly without making sense, without much warning. one minute you’re in the middle of something and the next it’s all a very long time ago and you’re a different person and none of it is ever coming back

[grackleclaw]

the human body is an engineering marvel. I sneeze in bright light. if I dont get enough sunlight on my skin I get tired and sad and have to drink a lot of milk to fix it. standing too much hurts, but sitting too much also hurts. if I get a virus, my body will increase its temperature in an attempt to cook it, which also cooks my brain cells. toenails exist. I have to turn the radio down to see better when I drive. there are 17 genes dictating what my hair texture is, but it completely changes when the air is too humid. yawning is contagious. there are more species of bacteria living in my body than there are species of birds in the entire world. every few months I grievously injure my neck by "sleeping on it weird." it took seven million years of human evolution to form me, and now I'm afraid of phone calls.

[go1denrod]

[ID: a poem written in all lower-case black font on a white background. The poem reads: “little bird, fall quiet. worried dog, lay still. hunger, shut your noisy jaws. no way to ask nicely. no way to make it tame. nothing to be done. no words, no pictures, no poetry for this ugly thing my dad says sounds like a cancer, mi-so-pho-ni-a, this funny little curse of mine that glues music to my hands. i’m tired, so tired of thunder and lightning, this storm i stick to my skull. silence is its own sound. i want to wrap it up in gauze and stick it in my ear canal. i want to swallow it until my throat is so full of cotton that everything sounds like bedsheets and i feel peace.” /End ID.]

[lantern-hill]

god i hate how aesthetic-obsessed we have become. i’m not talking about cottagecore or dark academia or any of the other -cores, i’m talking about everything being so glossy and pretty and perfect and smooth and one-liner hot takes and feel-good own-the-conservatives progressivism and Top 10 Company Tweets We Laughed At and ring lights and young vloggers with pastel-perfect colour-corrected lives and carefully curated messy title cards and perfect montages being called “photo dumps” and bookstagrams or booktoks or bookblrs who buy every book they read, not a library edition in sight and “that girl” and this is how you age when you’re unproblematic and glow ups and “clean” “inclusive” beauty and earth tones and minimalism and filming random people without their consent and definition of the self through consumption of goods and ggrgehwrgehrgehrgehrgehrrerg

[sleepnoises]

okay you know that scan/photo of a teen girl’s diary entry that goes like “wore yellow dress today. chris keeps trying to talk to me even though he KNOWS i’m not interested! ugh! man landed on moon.” anyway that’s the mood

[skinhorses]

[sleepnoises]

THIS person is valid, as is their grandmother

[ms-demeanor]

Things like this are specifically why I’ve started keeping a paper journal this year.

“100th day of protests in Portland, we’re approaching 200k coronavirus deaths, things are very strange and the west is on fire. Tried my banana bread recipe with olive oil and less sugar, thought it was quite tasty but will stick with butter in the future.”

“Dad says he’s settling into the new house fine, the dogs are happy to have a nice yard. The president keeps saying he’s not going to commit to a peaceful exchange of power. But there’s evidence of possible life on Venus, which is nice.”

[maryolive]

Frank Kafka’s Journals: August 2nd, 1914 - “Germany has declared war on Russia. Swimming in the afternoon.”

[heavensickness]

there is not a single day i don't think about this quote in relation to tragedies

[araekniarchive]

Aeschylus, The Oresteia

[onlyloverleft]

Richard Siken, Planet of Love

[listentothepages]

The Lumineers, Cleopatra

[butternaan]

@olreid

[hypokeimena]

#ej and alf quoted next to richard siken and aeschylus as they deserve (via @clashofkings)

[prettydumbloverboy]

Actually, people are good by nature and you're a fool if you think otherwise.

[prettydumbloverboy]

When you sneeze in public, strangers will say "bless you", even though they don't know you.

When you ask for directions on the street someone will show you the way, even though they have nothing to gain from it.

People squeeze their legs against the chair so you don't have to hop over them on your way to your seat in the theatre, and make funny faces to make babies laugh, and purposefully step on leaves to hear them scrunch, and hold the door open for someone leaving behind them, and ask what floor you're heading to when you enter the elevator, and send others photos of things that reminded them of them, and recommend each other songs, and ask if anyone else wants a coffee because they're getting one, and make videos teaching how to sew a button, and wish on shooting stars, and share fun facts, and listen to others rant about things they don't even understand, and let you cross the street first, and give a bit of their food to others, and laugh at jokes they don't find funny to make you feel good, and listen to kids talk for hours about nonsense, and let you know your keys fell from your pocket, and they may be strangers, but with every little gesture they're saying "I love you, I love you, I love you".

[minotauri]

“humanity is inherently selfish and bad” bbbrrrghuhjfkg. humanity is seeing a stranger’s grocery bag break open on the sidewalk and harvesting fruits and veggies from the branch-like cracks of the asphalt for them, just because you can. humanity is helping a lost child find their mother on a crowded beach, looking for the ladybug-patterned parasol with their hummingbird-small hand in yours. it’s an elder’s fingers wrapped around your arm as you help them up the stairs because the elevator is broken, and feeling like you’re doing exactly what you’re supposed to be doing, like this is what you would’ve been doing had you been alive centuries or even millennia ago. there will always be a heavily pregnant woman who will smile at your when you give up your seat, a nice blind man in the fruit aisle who will ask you to please pick the riper plantain for him, a tired cashier whose face will light up when you compliment their tattoo sleeve. humanity is connection

[punished-lincolnshire-poacher]

The “humanity is inherently selfish and bad” trope is yet another iteration of propaganda meant to blame innocent masses for problems that are directly caused by the top percentage of obscene wealth-hoarders. It is born from a probably subconscious rationalization for their extreme greed, ie “anyone would do what i’m doing if they were in my position because it’s just human nature.” Anyway it’s total bullshit and the truth is that human beings are love in motion.

[irtenyev]

when w. h. auden said “evil is unspectacular and always human” and ursula k. leguin said “this is the great treason of the artist: a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain”

[treethymes]

when toni morrison said “i just think goodness is more interesting. evil is constant. you can think of different ways to murder people, but you can do that at age five. but you have to be an adult to consciously, deliberately be good – and that’s complicated.”

[azbukivedii]

when simone weil said “imaginary evil is romantic and varied; real evil is gloomy, monotonous, barren, boring. imaginary good is boring; real good is always new, marvelous, intoxicating.”

[hiddenhearthwitch]

You’re not stuck. You’re just committed to certain patterns of behavior because they helped you in the past. Now those behaviors have become more harmful than helpful. The reason why you can’t move forward is because you keep applying an old formula to a new level of your life. Change the formula to get different results. Stop being committed to your own bullshit and self-sabotage. You can expect to keep repeating the same things over and over and still wonder why nothing changes. Shift your focus!