brilliantbustedthoughts

I think I'm amazing and hilarious. I like clouds, raindrops on rooftops, the click of a keyboard, and sweet white wine. I hate going to movies, theme parks, riding on airplanes, and waiting in line.

[uncle-dre2-deactivated20210813]

Mood all 2020

[2ad]

If you see me posting here a lot it’s probably bc I want to die

[godblesscatastrophe]

It’s after 2am and I’ve been in bed for hours but can’t keep my eyes closed. My anxiety is scratching my skin raw and has been for days. My shoulders ache under the weight of whatever this is. Loneliness? I think.

I bought a house six months ago. I thought it would make me finally feel grown up, and it does, but it also makes me feel empty, which is something I didn’t anticipate.

It’s raining. I can hear the drops hit my window panes and it sounds so threatening where before I found it comforting. I’m so confused. And tired.

[godblesscatastrophe]

Despite the fact that I washed your fingerprints off my body weeks ago, I can’t keep from looking for them every time I undress.

[godblesscatastrophe]

“We need space.”

Or, “You just keep sucking all the air out of the room.”

[godblesscatastrophe]

For the first time in almost 10 years, I’m going to introduce a boy to my best friend and my sister. This is big time, right? This is it.

(Jesus, I want this to be it.)

[bonjourfrenchwords]

Avec toi, je me sens vivant (feminine: vivante) • With you I feel alive • /a.vɛk twa ʒə mə sɑ̃ vi.vɑ̃/

[buttonpoetry]

“It is hard to stop loving the ocean, even after it’s left you gasping, salty.”

— Sarah Kay, "The Type"

[detoxxjust-toretoxx]

The Kids Aren’t Alright // Fall Out Boy

[lovelustquotes]

[iridescent-opulescent]

“I was so close to you that I feel cold near others.”

[buttonpoetry]

“You were every airplane I mistook for a star. I was the first poem you had written in months.”

— Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak

[godblesscatastrophe]

You say I’m insecure – and you laugh about it, like it’s a joke, like I’m a joke, but it isn’t funny. I am insecure. I am afraid of you right now, but that doesn’t mean I will be forever.

When the ground stops shaking, I’ll be okay. I’ll get some footing and know that where I stand isn’t going to crumble immediately. When the river stops rising, I’ll be less anxious. I’ll know that even though I feel like I’m still drowning in you, that that feeling isn’t a bad one. When the sky brightens up again, I’ll be okay. I’ll know that there is both dark and light in your eyes and I won’t have to sacrifice one to have the other.

Give me some time. I’ll be okay.

[elizabyss333]

“She was unstoppable. Not because she did not have failures or doubts, but because she continued on despite them.”

— Beau Taplin (via purplebuddhaquotes)

[coffiero]

american beauty/american psycho // fall out boy

[godblesscatastrophe]

It's late, dark outside, starless. 11ish, I think. I don't know. I've been drinking. I've been doing that a lot lately, mostly to cover up that I have no idea what I'm doing, mostly to cover up that I know exactly what I'm doing.  You are my North Star and I'm driving to you at the moment, following your confused texts, speeding to get there quicker, probably swerving a little as well. I shouldn't be driving, but you called. You asked me to come. You said you needed me. And I know that you don't need me like I want you to, but you still said it, you said "need." I'm driving to you. We've been having dangerous conversations, dangerous encounters. You keep telling me that I do things to people. I get that, I guess, but I don't give a shit about what I do to people, I want to know what I do to you. Specifically. And in painstaking detail. I need this. I meet you at a bar in a shitty part of town and immediately I wonder if this is because there will be no witnesses or it is really the reason you gave - that you're bored and one of your friends is here and blah blah blah and come keep us company. One of your friends is there, but it's a friend who would never catch you on whatever it is we're doing, so nothing to think about there. Which means that you called because we can be us without an audience. We can be dangerous to ourselves and no one will be wiser. You've never come out and said you were on board with this way of thinking, these unadmirable plans that I have in my head, but you've also never disagreed with any of it, never told me no, never stopped me from doing anything that I wanted. In fact, you're more jealous than usual, more protective than ever before, and practically foaming at the mouth when I talk about the guy I've been seeing and how he treats me. You're practically fist-fight ready, which is hilarious because you just keep insisting that you aren't jealous, that this has nothing to do with jealousy and everything to do with him being a sociopath and me being stupid. I think we're all three lying to ourselves and each other, and many many other people. We're all liars right now, but at least my audience is the smallest. (You can't keep a secret if never was a secret to start. At least pretend you didn't want to get caught.)You offer to buy me a drink at this fine establishment you've suckered me into dropping into. I decline. I know I've had enough and I need to be coherent now. I need to be able to pay attention to what's going on; I need to be able to speak with conviction and clarity, and maybe a little spice. We talk about things... houses, stalkers, waitresses, bad ideas. Somehow it turns into a conversation of how many of our friends I've fucked and when counting gets too tedious it just becomes a list of names, or at least the names I can remember. You groan at some of them and cheer some of them on. You stop me at one particular person and tell me how I got him in trouble. You lay your head on your arm and pound the bar with your fist at another. "How did he manage to have sex with every girl I was ever interested in?" NEWS FLASH. Is this a confession or a conversation? We drop it at that comment, but it's too late. You said it. I want to sing. I knew it. I knew it. Oh, sweet baby Jesus, I knew it and I fucking love it. At least pretend you didn't want to get caught. 

[godblesscatastrophe]

The first time you left me, I barely noticed it. I was too busy drunk dancing on top of the bar to know that you were walking away. Someone else took me home that night, I don't know who, I never asked. You and I didn't speak for a week, but that was nothing new. By then, I'd given up apologizing so it was always a waiting game... Who Will Call First? You usually won. I would call and beg your voice mail for a call back. You were an easy target that way, I could usually entice your voice mail to do almost anything.  The second time you grew tired of being half of "us", I cried as hard as I could, big hiccuping sobs that made it sound like I'd forgotten how to breathe. You just handed me my keys and told me that I'd be fine, that I could find another boy to keep track of me just as easily as I'd found you. You'd forgotten that you were the one who had done the finding. I had no idea how to find a boy like you. Or where. I went home and climbed in bed and stayed there until you climbed in beside me a week later. The third time you "forgot how in love we were", I bounced a razor blade off my forearm six or eight times and watched my blood mix with the water from the shower and slide down the drain. I was testing a theory - if you didn't love me, it was most likely because I was already dead, in which case, I wouldn't feel a thing and possibly wouldn't bleed. I bled, but I didn't feel anything. I was half right; I was mostly dead. I became a ghost girl for five months.The last time you left was after I handed you a map with directions designed to drive you away from me. I didn't have any more blood to spill or tears to cry.  I didn't have any more time to waste on being dead. 

[godblesscatastrophe]

It’s been a long two years of self discovery and relearning to love the life I live and the people in it, especially myself. I turned my back on self-destructive and made a conscious decision to get better. And I got better. I asked for help when I knew I needed it and talked openly about why I needed help and what I expected that help to entail. I swallowed my pride and a few pills each day and started to actually feel better. 

I opened my mind and my eyes and started holding myself accountable for the habits I was still clinging too. When those habits no longer served the purpose they once had, I let them go. I actively took steps to create things I cared about. I actively build a life based on what I wanted. I worked hard. 

There are still days, like today, when I feel like I’m crumbling, when I feel like I’m not good enough or strong enough or enough enough. But those days are so few and far between now. 

I’m not sure why I’m writing this - maybe so when I have a hard day, I can look back and find reassurance that I’m moving in the right direction. Because, I AM moving in the right direction. Darkness no longer defines me.