miss looking through these windows.

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I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
i don't do bad sauce passes

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祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Three Goblin Art

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DEAR READER
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@englishviolets
miss looking through these windows.
The gift my father gave me,for my 6th birthday.
eighteen in a room that won't stay still
I wrote a poem last spring
I write my birthdays a poem
I am trying to trap time.
As these years pass
I bring them to words, thinking somehow that will help me contextualize this affair
I start writing again-- the way people start counting backwards when something is about to happen, slowly at first, then all at once.
I try, every year,
to make meaning behave
to line up memory,
decorate metaphors and adjectives.
Memory refuses structure
It spills, and brims
It softens the sharp edges
and sharpens the soft ones.
I lay in that disgusting bedroom, playing back my life in fragments-
my 1st by the mosque,
my 8th by the shore,
my 16th in the school ground.
A mason is toiling through this afternoon
the low hum of the tv in the other room
the room turning that particular shade of raw honey
the clouds lining up in new ways
looking like they’re about to confess something
but never do.
I still sing my favorite songs
I still wear my favorite shirt
I still pour ink over reveries
I start writing the way a window fogs
This day hovers in the air for days before arriving
Like heat that doesn’t break.
The fan turns lazily, pushing the same tired air around the room, everything feels suspended, my dusty notebooks, this half drunken glass of water, the reflection caught in the dark glass.
Every year I write
To hold onto the version of me that is already slipping away—
Like pressing flowers between pages
Knowing they will lose their color
But keeping them anyway.
I want to understand how a year can pass without asking permission;
There is something deeply ordinary about it
The passing of time;
and that is what makes it unbearable.
No music swells
No one notices
The day arrives
And leaves like any other
And yet I feel it—
In the way my thoughts linger longer than they should
In the way the sunlight leaves slower each day
In the way I keep looking at my own life
As if it belongs to someone else.
That 16tah summer was a dream
The fall of 17 hurt me softly
The 18th waits,
So, I write—
With the fan still turning above me
With the curtains breathing
With the light thinning into evening.
Waiting for 18.
16,goodbye.
Sixteen was a Polaroid dream,a little blurred at the edges,a little too bright, almost like when you stay at the sun for too long,just to see the colours bloom behind your eyelids.
Sixteen was a silent rebellion, salt and sand on my knees until i seep into the shore.
Sixteen was dried markers and pink handkerchieves
Being 16 was a hurricane in pink tulle.
I took photographs like proof
that the world had touched me softly
Now I am the calm after the wreckage, still wet, still soft.
I will always love life, because I can always sit in a room alone,all by myself.
I have kept myself together for the past 6 years and today I watched Aftersun. All i can say is,i haven't done myself a favour.
#aftersun #paulmescal #a24
I cannot believe that I won't be 16 in a few months.
It may be films, music and culture that hype 16 to be what it feels like,but 16 was beautiful,16 was agony,16 was yearning,16 was dreaming,and 16 was breaking but it was beautiful. This feels like last stage of feeling like a teenage girl. 17 will feel too close to 18 and 18 sounds too scary.
It will be hard to perceive myself as not 16 or not 14 or not 11 or not 9. I have associated myself and my being, to being a child, being a young girl. What will I be,when I'm not either of those. I dream of another 16,another 16th summer another 16th fall another 16th birthday. I wish to be 16 till I'm 25. It may sound like great things happened when i was 16,that isn't true,it is not close to true, it is a great deal being 16. I have loved 16, because i have loved myself be 16. All my friends are 17, and one day I will 17,that day is close,and I want it to go farther. I want to place 16 between my ribs and hug it forever,Farewell 16
You were salty and dreamy, feisty and funny you were your truest self,so true that being 16 defined you.
You will be missed 16.
I'm experiencing motivation to post on here more often.
It's September and I am only 16, it's 12 in the morning I am only 16
Next September I won't be 16,I will be devastated.
#writteninseptemberdwimnotinsane
palestinians have to collect the remains of their loved ones in plastic bags after their bodies have been blown up. human lives turned into mutilated pieces and parts. please do not let spreading information about the palestinian genocide become a “trend” that dies out. it is not hard to remain informed and continue speaking out/spreading comprehensive posts/articles that have been complied by others. i understand that not everyone can spare money. if you can, please please please consider donating to the numerous vetted gofundmes posted on here and other social platforms, even the smallest amounts help when everyone contributes. whether you can donate or not, everyone can continue to use their voices, both irl and online, to keep these atrocities from being forgotten. if you are physically able, i encourage you to organize and protest within your community. do not let apathy take hold, palestine will be free 🇵🇸
Free Palestine. 🇵🇸
#kashmir #snow #bleedouthere #camera #fakedigitalcamera
Gamers Guide to pretty much everything, was such an underrated show I loved that show. Also can we talk about how they got Markiplier on it, I went crazy once that episode was out, my two words collided.
Rip Cameron Boyce 🤍
Re-watching nigahiga videos
#ryanhigacomeback