Ink Spill Thoughts

Damaged observations of day to day experiences.

[inkspillthoughts]

Dating:

Nervous butterflies. Exciting conversations. Nauseous dread. The 3 stages of dating. All of which are equally awful in their own ways. Before the first date, you’re overthinking outfits. During the first date you’re imagining what could be and finally letting yourself want something. And after the first date, you’re readying yourself for rejection. It’s a combination of the highest highs and the lowest lows, and the most repulsively addicting activity. Impossible to cut off, and impossible to pick up at the same time. Dating is a contradiction in and of itself.

[inkspillthoughts]

Beauty Behind Separation: 

To miss someone is one of the most beautiful forms of love there is. Longing for a simple exchange of words instead of impatiently waiting for a response to whatever irrelevant text you just sent. Hoping for the day that you can grab a casual coffee together instead of spending days coordinating a simple FaceTime call. We can all only be so lucky to experience these feelings of restlessness. They are a direct sign of all the love and appreciation you as a human are capable of feeling. Distance in reality is just the gift of perspective. And missing someone in reality is just the gift of love.

[n0trespassing]

Found this in my grandfather's wallet

[marchdiaries]

He, too , was left with only shattered schemes

[pink111shit]

[inkspillthoughts]

Empathy Overload:

The utter importance of letting adults be adults. Allowing the space for others to protect their own simple existence to make room for your own. Eliminating the feeling of dread regarding outside dilemmas. Some disguise it as high levels of empathy, but ultimately you’re simply letting yourself drown in acquaintances' misery. Remember that supporting a friend while maintaining self-care isn’t selfish. Empathy is a superpower, but only when you let yourself breathe, and let adults be adults.

[inkspillthoughts]

The Life of a Young Woman in the City:

Some days, you feel invincible. Typically on those days when your hair is done, makeup on, and clothes tight. You’re meeting friends for drinks that will inevitably ease your impending social anxiety. Receiving longing looks from lonely men wondering when the hell they all got so creepy. Meanwhile on the opposite side of the same coin, you’re disconnected. Completely out of it Monday through Friday, going through the motions hoping you can pay your bills on time. Fighting a hangover from 3 days ago. Blocking senders of unsolicited photos. Feeling entirely unfulfilled and racing against an imaginary clock to somehow satisfy your internal perception of yourself. The duality of being a young woman is beautifully painful.