words enthusiast

despite the url, this is a writing blog. i don't post that often. main is @itsmeimsilly

[graphic-equilibrium]

alarm at 7:00

the only thing i’ve been thinking about in the past few weeks

(aside from theater, and classwork, and volunteering)

is how much it’s going to hurt

when the bottom drops out from under us.

two years can’t be long enough.

two years is almost nothing,

and then we’ll never be together again.

there’s no way we all end up in the same place.

and i miss you when i spend three months away.

i miss you when we go three weeks without talking.

i miss you, sometimes, as soon as i get home.

eight years is a long time,

yseyodsz.

anticipating it can’t be good for either of us

but i keep tripping up the staircase

and i think you do too.

[chromatomica]

it's a family name. only one of us had it, for about a month. it is so inextricably tied to love and loss. i am love. but i am also grief. i am knowing that it will never be the same. i am change. i am hope. i am a reminder and a reflection of what came before. i am, truly, named after someone i have never met and have no way of knowing. i wonder if this is how she wants to be remembered. if this is an honor.

[graphic-equilibrium]

stellatis

you can see the stars

in my eyes

faith, dreams, destiny

what i live for.

you can see how i’m

letting the world change me

as i change it

as i become myself

as i learn what love is

as i learn

how to see the stars

for the first time

like they’ll never be the same

[graphic-equilibrium]

i think there's something about us that nobody else is able to touch. we reflect each other, we match, in so many ways. it's complicated. but it's almost automatic for us. there are so many dualities i find myself in with you. sunset, moonrise. one after the other. a peaceful light and a gentle darkness. i love how much history we have. how intertwined we are. maybe this is what they mean when they talk about soulmates.

i do think we rose from the ashes together. and i hope we can find ourselves and each other at dusk. i'm at the lake, in a hoodie, waiting for you.

@boygirl-terezi-pyrope <3

[sunsets-shores]

There’s a strangeness to knowing that not everyone stays; and you think that maybe it’s even stranger that one decided to stay. It’s strange to know that there’s someone who’s always been there, and will always be there.

It’s strange to know that when you, you, the real you rose from the ashes they rose beside you. And you wonder if that feeling will ever stop being so strange to you.

They’re them, and you’re you, but you’re intertwined.

You are you but you are also one half of a whole

One half of them

You think maybe you don’t understand how much they are a part of you until you write this

Or maybe now you understand it too well

There’s always been the fear that they may leave, may move on like the others you thought would rise with you.

But you know they won’t

You know that they couldn’t ever really leave

Because you know they are you

And you are them

You think they’re the moonrise to your sunset

The lake to your ocean

The overpriced carpet to your underpriced walls

The self awareness to your childish behaviors

The ) to your (unfinished parentheses

They know who you are and you know them

And you know that’s one thing that will remain a constant

Even if nothing else does

[graphic-equilibrium]

the sky has never been clearer, but i can't see the stars. i light a match. watch it burn. there's so much to find in fire. i've rescued myself from myself with a flame. it's raining now. i have a home in fire. safety. refuge, more than anything. you're scared of the dark. fire's been kind to us. it's always been there when we needed a way out. it keeps raining. the match burns out. it's an important word, burn. it's never going to be the same.

[graphic-equilibrium]

ceilings you can’t make out. smoke detectors. visual snow syndrome. songs that mean things. having finished rewatching something important. the bottles of glow in the dark paint on your desk. missing someone you never met. memories that aren’t quite real. community. that means something different now, you think. looking up the stairs at a wall. holding hands with people nobody else has met. a kind of sacredness runs through the air. these moments are important. to you, to them, to us. someone joins the circle. soon, more. you all have homes to go back to, but this becomes a sort of sanctuary. and you know you couldn’t get back home, anyway. church. prayer. hymns. “your” brother. stained glass windows. a door that you know won’t work. for a moment, nothing else is real. there is only here, now, these people from everywhere. you all have stories. you start telling them. you learn about each other. you learn where everyone’s from, what they’ve left behind. who they’ve left behind. one person steps up. he’s alone. he doesn’t know how he got here, but he wants to stay. that’s more than you ever had. you wonder what he’s running from. if he’s alright. you connect across times, worlds, universes. a complicated intergalactic spiderweb. so many things had to happen in order for you to end up here, now, with these people. and they did. the stars were helping you. the stars are on your side. you look to the future. you see yourself here. suddenly, a last-minute addition to the circle walks into the room. something tells you she's been through hell recently. you extend your hand. she hesitates. takes your hand. smiles just a little. and you've learned every story they have. and it's still going to be hard, but you have each other now.

[chromatomica]

something / in the middle of nowhere / in the middle of clear blue air

went to my great uncle's house. introduced myself with my full name, because whatever's been "me" for seven years is too much of a girl. the four-year-old didn't even ask my name, we just played soccer for the better part of an hour. four-year-old's dad might not know my name, either. he remembers me. i don't remember him. it's a strange sort of haze, memory. i don't think i've ever seen this man in my life. but he says "it's great to see you again", and i take his word for it. i don't remember the places i spent years in. i don't remember the people i met before nine, unless i was spending every day with them. i remember about fifteen minutes of kindergarten. i remember almost none of first grade, or second grade. i hated my third grade teacher, in retrospect. fourth grade is where i have memories. fifth grade ruins me. but fourth grade is where i start living, and i don't really start living until middle school. and even that's not really anything. i think it's something, and i'm wrong. maybe this just keeps happening. maybe i never start living. but maybe, just maybe, i've been living the whole time. maybe i'm always learning. maybe middle school was as bad as they say it is, and you don't notice until it's over. until something else starts again. until you look back, and it's dark back there. you didn't notice, but it's been getting brighter since you gave up on the idea four years ago. since you pulled yourself back together, not knowing what broke you. since you started playing tetris. since you started making things for the hell of it. since you stopped going to dance class. since you found people who cared.

[graphic-equilibrium]

step out, step out of the sun if you keep getting burned // so how do i… step in, step into the sun

it’s all goodbyes, recently. it’s all “drive safe” and “i love you” and prayers.

i’d leave that relationship, if i were him. i’m not him. but i’m scared he’s going to get hurt. i love him too much. i don’t trust her.

and i wish we could go back to the way things were, sort of. i wish we could redo those years. because i think he misses me as much as i miss him. that minecraft world’s been abandoned for years, now.

maybe one day we would’ve made it to the end. maybe it could’ve been different. maybe he wants those years back, too. there’s time to change, i think.

[chromatomica]

thinkinf about them again. in the second movie. after toothless kills stoick. he doesn’t know what he did. he doesn’t know why stoick’s dead. and i don’t think hiccup gets a chance to process that it wasn’t toothless until later. but still. that part where hiccup pushes toothless away because he’s scared, because so much has changed for him, because he’s grieving, because now he has to figure out how to be in charge, is just so real. toothless doesn’t understand what’s going on. and hiccup doesn’t understand how to come to terms with this new reality. all toothless wants is to help. hiccup can’t see past his own emotions. and your best friend is pushing you away. and he just doesn’t get it. and you just know you’re broken. or lost. they feel the same, sometimes.

and it’s dark outside. and someone is always losing someone else. and all you can do is let them go.

[chromatomica]

nobody uses language exactly the same way and it’s incredible

[chromatomica]

thinking about “he would not say that” and how it’s possible for people to pick up on those inaccuracies without even really noticing why. it’s hard to write characters, because they sound like you, because you sound like you. it brings into question where “dialect” stops and “language” starts. we’re all speaking english (as an example), but none of us use the same words to mean exactly the same things. dialects and microdialects appear in groups of people, because we tend towards being intelligible, but within a microdialect, every single person has another more specific understanding of the language they use. and it evolves! you learn a new meaning for a word, you hear a word you didn’t know before, you decide you like a word, you misunderstand a word and it takes on a new meaning. words are so important and beautiful and complicated. i love language.

[graphic-equilibrium]

to love is to lose yourself. to love is to find yourself. to love is to learn, over and over again, that although none of us are the same, none of us are really different either. to learn is to know, and to know is to learn. loving is knowing someone better than you know yourself. one cannot really know, or teach, or learn to love. loss can be known. love can be found.

[graphic-equilibrium]

wrote this the other day because i was having some thoughts about the end of the school year

(under the cut. again fairly long)

the standards

i hold myself to

do not matter

because here i am

succeeding

living

having one of my best years

there is so much to me

aside from that number

i have moved so far away

from my nothingness

from my solitude

from my self-imposed perfection

and it’s easier

it’s easier

and i’m doing better than i ever have

in almost every way

nothing defines me

i defy categorization

what some call a difference

or a superpower

or something else entirely

is me

essentially

irrevocably

i am not my differences

but they are me

and here we all are

at the end of a ride

we didn’t know would be better

than standing in the rain

pretending we don’t feel it

this is an end

a beginning

a revival

of important things

and all i can tell you

is to keep your head up

to stay alive

to get through it

because the storm

will calm eventually

what will you do

if you never get

to see a rainbow

[chromatomica]

move on. remember, but reconcile. die. live. lose yourself. find yourself again. miss someone who isn’t real. miss something you never had. find that something is better than you could’ve imagined. break. fix yourself. you meant something to someone, but who? you made something that mattered, but what? you were someone else, but when? you loved someone, but where? love. hurt. heal. need. want. lose. fail. live. plummet to the lowest point of your life. try to get back up. lose that too. find a way into the darkness. maybe you make it out of here. what then? you haven’t thought this far ahead. keep missing them. it won’t get better. nothing is enough. nothing has ever been enough. homesick for a place you’ll never go. lovesick for someone you’ll never meet. lost. found? no. maybe you don’t make it out of the darkness. maybe you never will. it’s too late. it’s too early. it’s too real. it’s too broken. it’s not perfect. nothing will ever be perfect. can you live with that? not yet. live three years in two weeks. live three years in the loss and the grief and never leaving. live two weeks in the world that could never understand you, that never will, that isn’t worth trying for. grow up. get older. things change, but not the right ones. things change, but in the wrong ways. things keep changing. no matter what you do. you can’t see the horizon. someone said something once. you can be a good person. but that’s not the question. what, then, can you ask? what can you seek answers for? start there. or somewhere else. but start. take something in your hands. you can write your name in the stars. you can live forever. you can be what you need to be. you can still remember them. but you can’t stay here. not like this. forge your own path. blaze your own trail. the only way to get out is to move on.

[graphic-equilibrium]

hi everyone. poetry

(its long so i put a cut in here)

Does it really matter 

who you mattered to? 

The world 

has broken down around you. 

Nothing will ever be the same. 

Still,

the world keeps spinning. 

Someone is broken. 

Someone has healed. 

They believe themselves

to be as important

as you believe yourself to be.

Still,

the world keeps spinning.

There are 

so many people 

who will never know you,

or what you’ve suffered,

or who you are.

Despite all of this,

we persevere.

Maybe it’s 

a greater purpose

that some secretly think

is all we have.

Or maybe

just maybe

we all know

deep down

that we don’t matter

nearly as much

as we think we do.

Maybe

all we know

is that

the 

             world 

                              keeps 

                                               spinning.

Because 

truly

nothing is the center

of the universe.

No matter 

where you are,

everything else

is always

moving

away.

After we’re gone,

the world,

as it always has,

keeps

spinning.

There’s

a lot

of always

out there.

And

a lot 

of never.

Love hurts.

But

the world 

is still good.

Go see it.