dancing when I die

[dailycatsblog]

[probuccalfat]

there’s just always something fucking happening

[teaspirationss]

Im empty, so full of nothing but ghosts that long to drown.

I dont know if im still grieving or just made of storm clouds, but all of this brokenness just means there are more pieces to love you with. your heart feels like something the moon would write a poem about, and maybe my love language this month is holding your broken pieces as if they were whole. maybe gravity has a different name in winter, but its okay to look me in the eye when you lie and say the rain in my heart is the only sound you want to listen to tonight. I'll love you past the end of us.

[duskyreflections]

If I’m meant to be alone, please take away my desire to be known 

[duskyreflections]

He didn’t call.

Oh my heart, my heart. My heart feels like it’s being squeezed from the inside. Still in my room crying so quietly at 1.41 AM. Wishing he cared, wishing he cared. I hope he doesn’t call me back. He hope he doesn’t. Because if he does, I will pick up, i will try to act normal. Not showing how i bawled my eyes out at the night of the day he was supposed to call. I broke no contact for this? God my heart. I hope he doesn’t call, and just leaves my life. Please don’t call. Cause I will attend. I feel like an idiot.

I broke no contact for him. I tried. I tried so hard to be normal on that call. I smiled. I laughed. I pretended I wasn’t trembling. And he said he’ll call on the 20th. Like it meant something. Like I meant something.  But he didn’t. And I’m here, quietly crying into my stupid T-shirt so no one hears me. My throat hurts. My eyes sting. My heart feels like someone kicked it and then walked away.  The worst part is that I want him to call. God, I want him to call so badly. But I also don’t. Because if he calls, I’ll pick up in one second and pretend nothing happened. And I hate that about myself.  Why am I like this? Why am I always the one waiting? Why do I fall this hard for someone who can forget me this easily?  I feel so small. Like I’m shrinking. Like my entire worth is just hanging on one stupid phone call that never came.  

I’m tired. Tired of hoping. Tired of caring more. Tired of giving chances he doesn’t even notice.  I keep telling myself he’s busy. He’s studying. He must be going through something. I keep making excuses for him because it hurts too much to accept the simple truth:  If he wanted to talk to me, he would have.

People make time for what they care about. And today, it wasn’t me.  My heart feels like it’s dissolving. Like it’s turning into water and soaking into the carpet under me. 

I swear if he calls tomorrow, I will pick up. And that is the most humiliating part of all this. That no matter what he does, I still want him.  I don’t know how to stop wanting him. I don’t know how to stop imagining his voice saying my name. I don’t know how to stop feeling this.  Maybe I’m the stupid glass cup from that story. Maybe I broke the moment he placed me in his life hot and then dropped me into cold silence.  I’m so tired. My face is wet. My chest hurts. My hands are shaking.  I just want to stop loving him. Even for one night. One hour. One breath.  

Why does this hurt so much? Why does he get to walk around fine while I sit here crying like a child?  I hate this. I hate how much I care. I hate how much he matters.  

This is my life, apparently. Heartbreak at 1:52 AM. Again. And again. And again.  

[duskyreflections]

I use Apple Music now, i say turu, i know how to like to be touched, i know what makes you laugh, I know how you attend your calls, i know what to say when you’re building up to cut a call, I know what you shower with, i know your towels, your moles, I know your snores, i know the curve of your body and how perfectly they fit mine, i know what cig you like, i know how they make you feel, I know how you put extra salt in the food when you cook for me by accident, i know your fears, i know what kind of woman you like, i know how you hide your disappointment, i know your dreams, i know your sentences, i just didn’t know you didn’t like me enough to stay. 

[duskyreflections]

All stages of life fucking suck in this capitalist world.

[courtingwonder]

"Concepts, like individuals, have their histories, and are just as incapable of withstanding the ravages of time as are individuals."

-Søren Kierkegaard (Danish theologian and philosopher, 1813-1855)

[shakespearesdaughters]

“You have to write the book that wants to be written. And if the book will be too difficult for grown-ups, then you write it for children.” ― Madeleine L'Engle

[wedarkacademia]

Andrea Gibson

[a-cloak-deactivated20241120]

did it hurt? when you forget your headphones and couldn’t romanticise your walk home?

[duskyreflections]

It's my 3 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

[kosmogrl]

[beaucolics]

“i’ll read my books and i’ll drink coffee and i’ll listen to music, and i’ll bolt the door.”

— J. D. Salinger

[midsummerkissess]

[schadenfreudist]

“Memory’s truth, because memory has its own special kind. It selects, minimizes, glorifies, and vilifies also; but in the end it creates its own reality, its heterogeneous but usually coherent version of events; and no sane human being ever trusts someone else’s version more than his own”

— Salman Rushdie, Midnight’s Children

[memoryslandscape-deactivated202]

(Jonathan Cape, 1981)

[llovelymoonn]

this body is not a home

jody chan sick (via @geryone) \ edward hopper interior, model reading (1925) \ olivia laing the lonely city (via @soracities) \ joan didion on self-respect (via @girlfictions) \ dion palinckx (2019) \ james tate selected poems (via @heartshop) \ @artofbrianluong​ \ olivia laing the lonely city (via @soracities​) \ edvard munch self-portrait in hell

shout me a chai latte