am i waiting for something that doesn't exist?

[fatedsunsets]

　　𓏲𝄢　𓈒　navigation

i. film ii. visual iii. music iv. writing

[loveridden1999]

top 3 hobbies for young adults:

1. borrowing misery from future

2. carrying grief of the past

3. agonizing over the present

[stolenhead]

celestial body always above me fallen affections vestigial love i'm fucking up i'm fucking up forever trailing stricken and dumb forever chasing vaporous touch grazing the tether failure in the clutch

[stolenhead]

how to love a child who inside is hollow and coffin dark how to love a blood clot how to love a chainsaw how to love a bruise aa quiet, starving dog that never sleeps how to love how to love a girl whose marrow sings with the hurt of ypu whose smile is full of glass whose head is full of razors a kalediscope of nonsense chameleon notions how to swallow how to scream

—"how to buy a gun in ohio"

[riseaboveallsposts]

To become wallpaper.

To exist beautifully

without being truly seen.

I covered the empty spaces quietly,

made the room feel warmer,

softer,

less lonely for you.

And at first

that felt like purpose.

Until I realized

you only noticed me

when somebody else did.

When they mentioned my colors.

My softness.

My presence.

Then your eyes would trace over me briefly,

like a stranger admiring décor

they forgot they owned.

Most days, though,

I was just there.

Part of the background

you stopped looking at

because you assumed

I would never leave.

And maybe that’s the cruelest thing

about becoming someone’s wallpaper

you hang there for years

hoping one day

they will finally stand still long enough

to see the art in you.

But rooms grow used to their walls.

And eventually,

you start peeling at the corners, too.

[norisunorin]

奈良県　桜井市　長谷寺　 Nara Sakurai Hasedera

[todayintokyo]

Peach blossoms in Nagano, Japan, by Luna

[thehopefulquotes]

“Don’t kill flowers growing inside of you for someone who doesn’t appreciate the way you bloom.”

— Billy Chapata

[ineffablefate]

my life converges in coalescence as finally i give up grasping at the essence, and so spills her eternal secrets that are answers without questions, who can at once breathe you in and leave you breathless. and only my own fire guard kept this treasure in the depth of a solace reckless to hide my soul's shine from the sun who might suspect this glow to take a better turn than i had yet the courage to summon. love held the moon and the flower's fragrance as one to bleed between the lines of what we wound, and howling sea-crash i did mouth the open sky to swallow stars of silver rage and despairing from out of hope the starving bait of what i say and don't obey takes little note to the gnawing grave, a scale i weigh against the throat to speak its heavy and breaking me down as i reach the peak of what i carried all this way to pave a fate i couldn't escape, only once i dragged my feet and now i hurry.

[fatedsunsets]

truth is, i don't like him. i blame him for liking the idea of me, but i'm a hypocrite. i know it's not going to work out. i know he doesn't check any of my boxes. i'm just hoping he will so i can get rid of this deep rooted desire to be loved. i wish it didn't cloud my vision so much so i could understand how i feel.

[fatedsunsets]

why are you still the answer in the end?

[literaryvein]

L. V., writing as you sleep

[velvetversesjournal]

I kept searching for love in all the wrong places

I kept cascading into the abyss

Flashes of light, emptiness devouring me

Puzzle pieces and mosaics of time

I didn't know where to go and who to be

I kept chasing an endless dream

Poems on hollowness, the words spilt

Perhaps I was born empty

My eyes kept searching for a light

And over and over again, I was lost

It wasn't my parents' fault

That I kept wishing to escape

Into a safe bubble, detached and afloat

I felt like a stranger in my very own body

My reflection in the mirror, it mocked me

So I avoided mirrors for months

And lost myself in the darkness within

When I was writing

Was I escaping or drowning?

In my pool of melancholy

[cherokeeghostwriter]

AI

i'm not resisting intelligence. i'm resisting insulation.

there’s a difference.

I'm saying, when it comes to strangers, essays, problem-solving, drafting, even collaboration - tools are tools. but when someone looks me in the eye and says I love you… i want to feel the tremor in it. the uneven breath. -the risk.

intimacy isn’t just information transfer. It’s exposure.

If a machine smooths the sentence, it may also smooth the vulnerability. and sometimes the vulnerability is the whole point.

there should be some small friction- the long pause. the almost-wrong word. the sentence that starts brave, and ends uncertain.

it takes courage to say something without a safety net.

i'm not anti-AI. i'm pro-unfiltered human presence. that’s not fear of a tool. it's reverence for humanity.

[verrlorenpoet]

I'LL FIND LOVE

[honeynutchaerios]

as a person, a young girl no less, my existence is expected to come at a cost. i must have some aching flaw, some vice from which I must be saved. i shall scrawl words of sorrow across my chest, carve myself until no part of me is pure. my vices must exist, but they should be appropriate, dainty, contained. unfortunately for those who must witness me, my flaws are not so polite. instead I’m burdened to ache, to desire repulsion. i dream of disgust so severe, for my skin to slough off as a bear witness to what destroys me inside. such an idea fills me with ecstasy—filth mixed with desire. 

[veryluckyclovers]