“I am a different person to different people. Annoying to one. Talented to another. Quiet to a few. Unknown to a lot. But who am I, to me?”
— Unknown
taylor price
we're not kids anymore.
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★
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@goreyfador
“I am a different person to different people. Annoying to one. Talented to another. Quiet to a few. Unknown to a lot. But who am I, to me?”
— Unknown
As long as I can make them laugh, it doesn’t matter how, I’ll be alright. If I succeed in that, the human beings probably won’t mind it too much if I remain outside their lives. The one thing I must avoid is becoming offensive in their eyes: I shall be nothing, the wind, the sky.
Osamu Dazai, No Longer Human
in mortality we abide and obey of lives left futile befit astray...
a shadow lurking in the dark, waiting to be seen, a divine spirit trapped in a cage—oh so filthy and unclean, an insignificant being, born without light, a tragic fortuity, impotent and blind, for i see myself no angel nor saint, a heartless woe, encaptured by taint, roses that face me destined to wilt, a foe to humanity, shread by guilt.
as i watch you slowly disappear from my life...
warm days of summer fade into a winter haze, as your eyes avert from my loving gaze. the sweet years of friendship we cherished so long—now a memory made to forget where we belong.
as you hold their hand with much ease, cheek marked with cerise, with a smile carved on your face—one that was only meant for me. a new addition to your life to chase, as i watch you slowly disappear from my warm embrace.
love is a mere tragedy i truly despise, trapped in the looming confines of hope indulged remorse. your voice—laced with honey and sin, lingers in the back of my mind, exquisite minutiae one will never find, crystal black orbs that exhume mine, lips that taste of silken red wine.
young naive passion, concealed under moonlit shadows, a momentary sentiment i had once yearned, forever an evanescent desire thou failed to return.
🥀
a porcelain doll lolled on a lace, tear streaken sorrows linger 'pon its face, a tainted soul that lurks beneath, beneath a labryth of confined mysteries, fleeting innocence— a deceitful facade...
⋆.𐙚 ̊. ⋆˚꩜。 ᥫ᭡⋆.𐙚 ̊.────୨ৎ────⋆.𐙚 ̊. ⋆˚꩜。 ᥫ᭡⋆.𐙚 ̊.
The demon lurking inside of me...
In a house of devouted hallows, lurks the devil, streaken with desolate woe, forever engraved in its lust seepin' sorrows.
morbid regret, guilt interned beast, crimson lashed claws, blood wretched teeth, lurking through walls– away from ones' reach.
barren ankles dragged upon chains, a heart of rust and burning flames, coiled and withered through sullen veins.
a labrynth of confined mysteries, sinful blessings and narcotic melodies, only a quiscent trap– meant to lure and decieve...
tomorrow...
merely a confident lie we mispoke,
in search of reassurance and hope.
delusion scattered across our minds,
unaware of the fleeting time.
minutes merge to long drawn hours,
the last breath, a bouquet of flowers,
settled on your stone carved silhouette,
an interred corpse of forlorn regret...
🪶🕊
♤.♡.◇.♧
Grief is really just love. It's all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go
— Jamie Anderson
Words by: @thesanitysipper
sometimes i think cannibalism isn't always about flesh and blood. sometimes it's emotional. sometimes it's loving someone so deeply that they slowly consume every soft part of you until there's nothing left. and the worst part is realizing you willingly handed those pieces over because you thought love meant sacrifice. you thought if you gave enough, stayed long enough, understood enough, maybe one day you'd finally be chosen the same way you chose them.
i wanted something real. something safe. something mutual. the kind of love where i didn't have to question my place in someone's life every single day. the kind of love i know i deserved from the beginning. but instead, i ended up trapped in something painfully one-sided, constantly pouring into a connection that only survived because i kept carrying it alone.
i kept making excuses for the inconsistency. i kept holding onto small moments like they meant more than they actually did. a little attention felt like hope. a few sweet words felt enough to keep me staying. meanwhile, i was starving emotionally, trying to convince myself that crumbs could somehow become a full meal if i just loved harder.
yearning changes people. it turns you into someone willing to accept almost-love because the fear of losing it feels worse than the pain of enduring it. and that's what destroyed me the most — not the absence of love, but the constant glimpse of it that was never truly mine to keep.
i gave patience, understanding, loyalty, softness, reassurance — everything i wished would be returned naturally. instead, i slowly watched myself disappear inside a connection that only took from me. my peace, my time, my emotions, my sense of self. loving like that feels like being eaten alive quietly.
and maybe some people only love being loved, never the person loving them.
i got tired of begging silently. tired of questioning my worth. tired of feeling unwanted in something that was supposed to make me feel cared for. love should never feel like constantly proving why you deserve to stay.
so i finally cut ties.
not because the feelings disappeared, but because i needed to save whatever was left of me before i lost myself completely.
Between Prayer and You
your name still lingers after every prayer, soft as smoke beneath cathedral light. i loved you quietly, carefully there, like hiding daylight somewhere inside night.
your mother spoke of heaven, rules, and grace, while mine drew borders shaped by ancient fear. we stood like sinners wearing holy faces, pretending not to wish to disappear.
they taught us love should never cross the line, that faith and family must decide our fate. but every time your trembling hand found mine, the world outside the chapel had to wait.
so if forever keeps us far apart, i'll still keep your voice beneath my skin. some loves are written not to reach the stars— only to burn beautifully within.
I was bored... :]
|| lowk off topic gng and my opinion but ||
Light yagami and Fyodor Dostoyevsky are literally the exact same person in almost every way possible! The only minor difference is that Fyodor wants to get his hands on the book to reshape and cleanse humanity, while Light already has the advantage of the death note in his hands. Moreover, their views are hella accurate; they both want to get rid of sinners in order to maintain peace and balance in the world, Fyodor's version of sinners are ability users, while Light is criminals. They even both have extremist ideals of removing them– through the vile action of murder, in doing so, implementing an excuse for the sake of a better world. Likewise, L lawliet and Ranpo edogawa are their rival detectives, however Fyodor has multiple enemies as he states "I hate you all" before his final breath.
(also i js started watching death note, idk if there are points im missing or out of tune but so far my theory)
lil art dump :]
i wonder why almost every bsd fan is either a russian or starts learning it...
my opinion :]