Paradox and Oxymoron // HIATUS

Name's Ar. I love everything that's dying. Maybe that's the reason why they say prevention is better than cure; nothing could really heal our wounds.

[matabangutak]

I need active people here ulit! Sino pa ba mga andito? Follow ko kayo! :)

[girlwithacneeeee]

Kakabalik ko lang din dito. 3 years ago yung last post ko, grabe :(

[inkskinned]

it’s tuesday and we’re drunk anyway and our ankles are in the pond and my back is flat against the dock and you are looking down at me while i tell you sad things. i close my eyes and spill out secrets because once they rise in me i can’t stop them until they bubble past my teeth.

“it happened,” i say, “and then it kept happening.” i find a laugh in my chest where i know there shouldn’t be. sometimes i pretend i’m an anchor because there’s a difference between sinking and drowning. i peek one eye open to you, where you’re frowning.

you don’t say anything. i worry i’ve gone too far. told you too much, and now you’ll see i’m a project and you’ll leave. you’ll untie the boat. you’ll leave me stranded in the storm. all that cliche shit everybody writes about but hurts worse than words know. because people leave, and leave, and leave, you know?

“it’s good!” i blurt, because i can’t stand the silence, i sit up quickly, i splash my feet, i pull funny like a blanket up and around me, “shit happens. what doesn’t kill me made me a bitch on wheels.” and shit happens. it happens until it crawls down your throat and just when it would be better to die, you get a breath in instead of choke. shit happens and you wake up and it happens and you go to sleep and it feels like the same shit, all grey and ugly and the underbelly of the beast, shit happens but you can’t talk about it because otherwise, people know, and you can’t show other people you’re weak.

but you’re not laughing. i ruined whatever we have. your lips twist to the side. i try untalking, unmaking the mistake, coiling back up all the useless garbage about my dumb life which isn’t even that bad, i’m just whiny. “i’m good now,” i say, “i’m okay,” i say, “it sucked at the time but now im fine,” and i say it, because the lie feels right, but i hate the way your face looks, like you’re trying to see under my skin, like now that you know you can’t un-know. like you’ve solved the problem and the equation reveals that i’m a piece of shit.

“i’m sorry,” you say instead. “that shouldn’t have happened.”

i bark a laugh, try to talk, but you shake your head. cut me off. “no,” you say, “i’m here if you ever want to talk.” you keep searching with those wide eyes so i gotta look anywhere else, anywhere else, down to the fish and the water, down and down, away from the only thing i haven’t figured out how to laugh about, away from the glow of you and the warmth that radiates now, away from this terrible truth you’re weaving between us, “i love you,” you say, “i’m glad it didn’t kill you but it shouldn’t have happened that way.”

oh no. oh god. oh god, wouldn’t it have just been easier if you had waved it all off. can’t we just make a joke and move along. oh god, oh no, not this, not love. i can’t handle it. i’m not strong enough.

“i love you,” you repeat while i’m stifling a sob. you put one hand out on my shoulder. i want to cut my own hands off. “what happened to you,” you say, and it sounds like an alarm, “was terrible, and you didn’t deserve it, and it was entirely wrong.”

i don’t know how to handle this. i don’t know where to go if you’re telling me i don’t deserve it when the crumbling hits. i don’t know what to do but buckle down and survive it. because what comes next if you’re right. what if you don’t leave my side. what if i wake up one day and shit happened again just as it started to all go right. what if i wake up and the truth is that i did nothing to deserve this shitty old life.

“it’s okay,” you say. “you’re going to be alright.”

[girlwithacneeeee]

they said i shoud let go of everything that’s making me feel unhappy that's making me feel unworthy that's making me feel less and not enough but what if the things that making me feel all these negative emotions are the things that are making me happy?

[girlwithacneeeee]

And then at the middle of the sentence he’s saying, she interrupted him and said, “I’ve seen brighter eyes than yours, and yet I’m still here. That must mean something.”

With that, everything went silent. Whatever he’s saying, whatever arguement he’s trying to flatten out, it just went blank. He’s speechless.

His eyes grew softer, and his lips begins to quiver. Anger turned into something he can’t explain. He slouched his back, and said, “Come here.”

He hugged her tight. So tight, it felt luike there’s no more tomorrow.

[girlwithacneeeee]

D'you know how frustrating it is to want to talk to someone, but at the same time, you just wanna shut up about it and you don't have any other choice but to pull your shit together, all on your own?

[girlwithacneeeee]

Do you ever thought about how  tragic it is that some people find comfort in sadness?

[inkskinned]

pronounce my name like a firework; undo me in a rainburst, unzip my cloud skin. i’ll pour onto your floor. hold me like earth, open up your hands to me, let me find all of your dandelion secrets and i’ll take their teeth out of your veins. we can make each other spring even in the winter.

r.i.d (via inkskinned)

[tonyhawksproskaterfour-deactiva]

tunblr roll call! reblog if your in the following fandoms:

-suffering -the pain of living

[girlwithacneeeee]

Sometimes I still wonder if I’m happy or sad. Sometimes I still ask myself if I’m really okay or if I’m still depressed. Sometimes I still ponder about how my life is doing and where my life is going.

[girlwithacneeeee]

Binibigyan mo ko ng dahilan para hindi ka mahalin.

The thing that kills me today

[girlwithacneeeee]

i have to constantly remind myself that it’s okay. that i’m fine.

[mingdliu-deactivated20210422]

He wanted to read my poetry yet when I tell him there’s much that needed to be said, he doesn’t ask to hear more. I want to show him the letters and poems I hide in my notebooks, for, they are braver than I will ever be, but he does not understand fear as he is always out to conquer them. He’s a paramedic, so all the blood he’s seen is red. I don’t think he will ever understand that I bleed black ink.

Stories I’ll tell one day #90 – Ming D. Liu  (via mingdliu)

[chriscelle-deactivated20170407]

one day someone will love me not because i am a writer or a poet with lovely taste in things but because of who i really am. 

[girlwithacneeeee]

I found him. You'll find yours, too :)

[girlwithacneeeee]

person: How are you?

me: i literally have no idea

[girlwithacneeeee]

everytime i get home and be up until 4am, my thoughts are always, "man, i should've bought cigarettes and vodka on the way home." yes bcos im that fucked up

[fyp-psychology]

People act according to the way they experience the world. If you can understand their experience, you can understand their behavior.

R.D. Laing, The Politics of Experience (via fyp-psychology)

[metaphorformetaphor]

I close my eyes and see a seagull in the desert, high, against unbearably blue sky. There is hope in the past. I am writing to you all the time, I am writing with both hands, day and night.

— Franz Wright, from “P.S.,” Walking to Martha’s Vineyard (Knopf, 2003)