find me in my art

if i could go back in time, i would beg icarus to take me with him

[primafawnagirl]

[findmeinmyart]

my escapist fantasies j don't stop

[findmeinmyart]

i have felt guilty for my happiness all my life. i have grappled with the insecurity of it being taken away without my permission at any given moment. if you have suffered through similar thoughts, just remember that you don't need to earn and deserve every single thing. you are allowed to enjoy very bit of happiness you have, however slight.

[findmeinmyart]

not the most poetic stuff, but it j resonated.

[findmeinmyart]

if i couldn’t have been an observer in my own life, i don’t think i would’ve ever had the courage to act.

[findmeinmyart]

writing has started being therapeutic again

[findmeinmyart]

the cursed pomegranate

i have heard multiple versions of the tale of hades and persephone. the one where hades deceived her, the one where hades forced her and my favourite - the one where persephone willingly ate the pomegranate, as sign of rebellion. she ate it not because she believed in fairytales where the belle tamed the beast, or the princess' kiss turning a frog into a dreamboat, nor did she have some reverse case of stockholm syndrome. sometimes you already have that desire into you - to do something that is unconventional, that goes against what you're taught. afterall, what would the flower princess do in the underworld? persephone ate the pomegranate because she was the mother of the dead, the thorns masked by a delicate flower. she was a revolution waiting to happen.

[findmeinmyart]

I don’t feel like celebrating anymore

I turned 19 today but I don’t feel like doing anything special on this day anymore. My friends are at their respective unis and I just want to read and sleep. I think this is the first time after a long while I’m not using pretentious words. It’s been 19 years and I’ve grown sick of acting - cool, nonchalant, unbothered. i don’t feel like celebrating because nothing’s changing. I feel like time is the only thing moving forward, and no matter how hard i try to move my feel, i’m stuck in this swamp. i imagine doing all the things i want to do - things that require guts and audacity and boldness, but that’s where it stops. i can’t fully love myself until i become that person and i can’t become that person unless i love myself and give myself the space and patience to step into it. and i truly feel like the government, all the planning in the world with such imperfect execution that i hate myself more.

[findmeinmyart]

matchbox

i have seen monuments crumble and turn to rubble and i have left the ground tremble, as if mourning their demise. i have seen pillars fall, decimating everything in its way and i have seen things shatter beneath its weight. i have looked destruction in its eyes and i have seen how merciless they can be, the way they glint with burning fire, promising to engulf all and have had no choice but to acknowledge its beauty. destruction ends everything, but how would you and i exist if it hadn't paved the way for our rebirth? light a match and set it on fire, burn everything down to the ground, because how is a phoenix supposed to the rise if not from the ashes? how can i be reincarnated if i cant destroy who i am first? so i take that match, see its darkened edge and drag it along the matchbox with such intensity that i see the fire before the match can burn and when i watch the world turn into ash, i finally believe that the glint was clemency all along.

[findmeinmyart]

i am my art

i have, like everyone else, succumbed to this need for appreciation and validation. in fact, i still crave it sometimes. i write stuff that i think will garner me the most praise, in fact, sometimes i write solely for that praise. but i dont think i can continue with that anymore. my art, my thoughts, before anyone else, belong to me. it doesn't matter if anyone else thinks they are worth a dime, as long as expressing them makes me happy. art is catharsis and sacrifice all at once. i'm liberating myself but im also baring myself for the world to see. i'm free but i'm also at my most vulnerable and i think that's what life is, right? even when people think my art is pretentious or pedantic or phony, it's still mine and if it's worth it to me then it doesn't matter if it's useful to others because simply by existing, it has fulfilled its purpose.

[findmeinmyart]

it was always real for me

people don't believe that achilles and patroclus were lovers. cousins, brothers, the greatest of friends, but never soulmates, never one of the greatest love stories to ever go down in the history of the greeks. philtatos. most beloved, achilles called him. a love so pure, so unshakeable, that a war tragedy became a tale that transcended time and space. a love like theirs is unfathomable to me, something so rare to behold that i don't understand if i want to feel it or run away from it as far as possible. the kind of love that you know is a once in a lifetime experience, that can never be replaced or repaired. because can you handle the risk? the risk of your patroclus dying? and more than that, can you handle your achilles watching you as the light leaves your eyes? achilles and patroclus will forever enrapture me, because they changed what love meant, because for them the thought of dying on your beloved was more mortifying than their own death.

[findmeinmyart]

maybe bleeding is an act of love

all my life i felt that love is the butterflies you get in your stomach, the nervousness you feel when you meet them, the way your heart beats a thousand miles a minute until all you can feel is their presence. but is that enough? enough to survive, enough to choose someone for life? lately, i’ve come to realise that maybe love is sacrifice. the kind where you would let them go before you ever let them feel like they are not enough. the kind where you put your feelings aside, because sometimes loving someone means disregarding the small stuff. love is sacrifice. a sacrifice that just gives, without ever asking for anything in return, that creates space for compromise without demanding anything. and if you are lucky, maybe you find a person who you are ready to give up everything for, but who would never let you. maybe you’ll find a person who bleeds the same red that you do.

[findmeinmyart]

hope kills me more than hatred

have you ever waited for something to arrive for ages, only to be disappointed in the end? have you ever prayed for something with your life, only to feel like you would have been better off if you didn’t? almost as if anticipation is a crueler sentence than the actual punishment. your smile gives me hope sometimes. it makes me feel like everything will be fine in the end, but then reality sets in and trusting another human makes me want to die all over again. but what can i really do when all i have ever known is to love you? when even pretending hate you makes me hate myself? i would rather doom myself to misery than ever despise you. maybe that’s why hope is crueler. because hope means you.

[findmeinmyart]

I hate how I know that I can do something and still doubt myself when I do it. I hate how I'm so in love with myself until someone better comes along. I hate that I fall in love at the slightest bits of kindness and affection. I hate that I find myself so pretty in the mirror but not in others' minds. I hate how I cry at sad advertisements but feel myself go numb at crucial times. I hate how human I am when all I love about this world is its humanity.

[findmeinmyart]

i look above and all i see is you

how can you believe in god when the world around you is burning, consumed by the flames of annihilation, where injustice has become the norm and death a common occurence? how can you look up at the sky and pray to the unknown when the ground you're standing on is split into two?

i know believing in god in a world that increasingly resembles hell is considered naive, too optimistic, too hopeful and sometimes plainly stupid. i believe in god not because i have to or because i was taught to but because i want to. i want to because i cannot account for the multiple beautiful, miraculous things i have witnessed by just calling it a coincidence. i cannot for the life of me believe that every wonderful thing that has ever happened to me is arbitrary, that i just "got lucky." i believe in god because sometimes having faith means ignoring your logical faculties, leaving cynicism, looking at all the evil and finding the good anyway. oh lord, forgive me for i have sinned, but never have i blamed you for the wrongs of human, never in my life have i assumed that my faults are yours.

you cannot suffer at the hands of another and crucify god. you cannot entitle yourself to all your wins and blame god for all your losses. there have been times when i have lost my faith, when i have dangled between the two sides and walked the tightrope, and i have found my way back to my it. so yes, i have stood on shaky grounds, look at the heavens above, saw a thunderstorm brewing and smiled, knowing that when lightning strikes, i might not survive but the world will.

[this is by no means a tactic to persuade people out of their atheism, it is just my viewpoint, my thought process and my unwavering faith that leads me back to the same conclusion. i respect atheism or any other leaning people have.]

[findmeinmyart]

the art of grieving

the deepest, most visceral emotion i have ever felt is grief. not because my life is a constant string of losses, but because the world is. i see a kid cry for his mother, an old man sitting alone in a cafe, a teenage suffering from her first heartbreak and i’m reduced to tears. i see how sometimes hard-work doesn’t win in the end and determination finally bows down to circumstances, i watch how the light of hope start diminishing and justice sits on her throne, her head in her hands, silent tears flowing down and i cannot help but mirror her. i grieve because i feel. i do not need my personal trauma to reduce me to a sobbing mess when i can just take a glance around me and reach the same state. i see the world around me burning and i feel the fumes and the smoke suffocating me but i cannot for the life of me turn the opposite way. i watch humanity diminish day by day but i still wait for it get off it knees and demand to be recognised. to feel this pain is a constant reminder that maybe hell isn’t some other realm, that it is already here. but i still hope and i still wait and i still grieve.

[findmeinmyart]

fuck up, as long as you do it

fuck up. make mistakes. make a fool out of yourself. take the leap, take the plunge, just jump. yes, you will lose a great many things but at least you won’t lose yourself. yes, you will break down, disintegrate but it’ll be worth it. the pursuit of something greater requires you to step out, to do something, anything. it doesn’t matter if you fail, it doesn’t matter if you hit rock bottom, do it anyway. celebrate your losses and cherish your sacrifices. kiss the ground when you fall and smile when your tears fall down. see the privilege that comes with that defeat, the privilege to do better, to be better. so fuck up, do it deliberately, intentionally, as long as you never give up. being the worst at something will always triumph never doing anything at all.

[findmeinmyart]

bring me to my knees

O' Lord, bring me to my knees. kill my ego and put it to rest forever. let my body bruise and bleed, for the red of my blood will always be more tolerable than the red that blinds my eyes. i don't want clemency for my arrogance. humble me and ground me and keep me anchored. believe me, i want to fly and soar and touch the stars too, but not because i think i'm entitled to it. may i land in the abyss if i think so, may my conceit crumble and may i always have the humility to start again. punish me as you did icarus, cut my wings and make me descend to the ground, not for touching the sun but for believing that i can never fall in the first place. and if hubris is to be my demise, then may it haunt me for the rest of my life.