If not now,then when? @intheruinsalways - Tumblr Blog

Once in a while, there will be a character that you understand like no one else does, not even their writers. But you will know in your heart, that you would treat them different, love them better. You would do them justice. And when Dede dies in the show, I expect people to FINALLY understand that it doesn't matter that claire lost her mother, she still has the right to be angry at everything the women did. She never got to confront Dede, never got to make her understand why her constant criticism made claire insecure and controlling the way she was. She never heard her mother apologize to her. And after her sudden death, is she supposed to forget all that? Yes, she is upset, but she STILL HAS THE RIGHT TO HATE HER. SHE SHOULD HATE HER. DEDE IS A BAD MOTHER. HER DEATH DOESN'T ERASE THAT. Do not rewrite the story, do not make claire the villain for being angry, do not think that a speech Dede made can undo years of damage she did. Her repentance should come from accepting that she was wrong and making amends and not because she's old and lonely. NOT because she is dead. Claire was right, everyone else was wrong. Trust me, I would never forget my parents just because they died. And she shouldn't be forced to either.

The regret of not loving people when the moment was right in front you. But I was taught to reject people before they reject me. I was told that everyone you meet just wants something from you before they leave, so I withhold my love from them to make them stay.

Let me tell you a story, about a girl I never met. I tried so hard, turned my world upside down but I never got her. I heard stories about her, just like this one, all my life. She was pretty like the ocean, calm and soft. Words like honey, that when she talked everyone stopped to listen. The world was her stage, she was the beauty. But I was too scared to get out of my room, to leave my dusty bed. My mother used to push me out of the pigeon hole everyday, in search of the girl who never was. She wanted her as her daughter, how she prayed that when I come back, it wouldn't be me at all. So that girl I wanted to become, that girl I sought out to find. "No one loves me", I used to shout into the void, explaining it why I needed the girl to come back home. If I could see her, I would know, what parts of me to hide and what to grow. And I would just be smart to pretend to be someone else, a girl that no one ever laughed at.

And when I read somewhere that we don't call happy people "strong", it gutted me, made me sick. Because it's not fair, I don't want be brave, I shouldn't have to be. I want to be a happy person that people walk past without feeling pity. Take this story away, I would rather not live the way I did, than feel this inescapable weight for another second.

Those are my eyes, I think, and my face? Am I dreaming again? No, he's the man I hate.

Only, he has my face again and then his.

This goes on and on, untill I forget who comes first,

He's the man that I dreamt about, I am the apple of his eyes,

He takes me out to shop, and doesn't yell at me when my icecream drops.

He's so kind to me that kindness stops feeling foreign,and I stop confusing it with love all the time.

He's patient, still he's strong, and he's wiling to listen to my problems, make them go away,

So when I grow up, I don't find myself on uneven ground again and again.

He's not my father, I just wish he was,

So I often close my eyes to imagine,

Someone who thought I was worth a glance.

I close my eyes and will him to go away,

The father I imagined for myself because I didn't want to be the only one who didn't feel loved that way.

I tuck in my little secret, that my mother would never know. She tried but she wasn't enough,I guess I needed a man too?

@versesbyaaliyah

I mistook kindness for love for half of my life,and that is why I fell on my knees the moment you spared me a sad smile. In worship and in prayer, that I never make a mistake again. God, the things I would do for you if you just let me hold your hand through the night.

My hands are empty with all the love I won't be able to give and your eyes are shinning with all the promises I won't be able to keep. loneliness sounds better than betraying you, because it will take another life before I can learn to love.

I haven't looked inwards in a while, so I can't really tell you how I am. Honestly, I am scared to find someone who I have hated all my life, because I don't think I'll be able to apologize. Worse, what if I fall in love with her? how will I make up for the years I abandoned her? I can't look at my eyes, I can't look in the mirror. I can't look at the people who love me, because I am scared, I have always lost this game and I don't want to bet again...... So when you ask me why I am so untrustworthy, I can't tell you all this, but to make you stay, I tell you that neither of my parents knew what to do with me, so they simply left me to fend for myself and that made me scared to trust. When your eyes grow sad, I know you believe me. Maybe One day, I will tell you that both of them filled me with so much hate that I couldn't separate myself from it. I struggled for years to realize that this hate and anger was not mine and could simply give it away. I also don't tell you that I have no love to give, I only inherited this heart that is beaten blue and black and this mouth no one tolerates.

Decay

I shouldn't have done it.

I really, really shouldn't have. She was what 20? 22? I don't remember now, though I assume it doesn't matter, the deal is done. I hide behind the Shadows and watch again, as her mother wails and sobs on the dead body of her only girl, now gone, and I don't think I have ever seen such devastation on persons face before. I also see her father beside her, his hands are shaking uncontrollably and so is his whole body. He is muttering something again and again, like he refuses to believe what he sees. But it's true, if there is one truth in the world, it is death. It's final and.....irreversible, a fact that hits me right in the chest and knocks the air out of my lungs.

I can't give them back what is lost and honestly? It's not even my fault. She WANTED this, she promised me that she was sure. So what the hell was I supposed to do? I loved that girl, loved her so much that I let her dig her claws deep inside my heart so that no one could separate us. Except for me, of course.

I turn around because I can't watch anymore, I don't have the courage to regret this and I won't.

"You can't leave", a voice says, echoing through the forest. It's him. "You know that you have to stay and watch her decay, untill her skin turns to mush and her bones turn to dust. Until You forget what her face looked like and that mouth could ever form a smile. This is the only condition and then you'll be free, but you have to watch her dissappear. ", he says.

But this also means seeing all the people who are crying on her grave, begging for a miracle, hoping that this is some sought of a nightmare. It means remembering and I dont want to remember. I don’t have to say it out loud, I know he is listening.

What I don’t dare to think, even to myself, is that what if I regret it? What if I start to miss her laugh so much that I struggle to breathe? What if I miss seeing her dance around the room like some sought of maniac or when I want to introduce her to new music? What about when I feel lonely and want a hug, but I can now only feel the chill of wind for eternity? What if I miss touching her, looking at her, loving her? I can't do it.

After 20 years, when the body has decayed completely, I'll finally be free to leave. I'll look my mother in the eyes then, but I'll never be able to tell her that I miss her, that I regret taking her daughter away from her. That I want to crawl back inside my body, even if it's a ghost now, just to feel her warmth one more time. I should have tried to wait, I wish I could come back.

@picklemafia

The first Midnight

I knew there was a time of the day, Made just for me. Because nothing ever could suit me, like the nights did.

No one was asking me to be quieter, no one was laughing at my fumbles. I didn't need to constantly come up with new Jokes to keep people around, nor did I get nervous wondering if I was saying the wrong thing. I could just be.

I have always loved the nights, because I loved the moon following me around, I loved that the pretty flowers glowing in the sun could rest now, and I laid beside them, because I could see what no one could. They looked prettier this way, softer.

The birds became quiet, I knew they were having dinner together like a family and talked about what all they saw in their day.

All of this happens only at midnight, and if you blink, you miss it. You miss the exact second the world bursts into colors and the houses go up in flames. When the ghosts dance around and lovers finally embrace. This has been going on for decades now, this is why they ask us to stay inside. They want us to miss the magic, to forget what we saw as children.

I remember the first time I stayed up to watch the clock tickle, and couldn't believe how real the world felt even when everything was changing. The midnight conversations, the belly hurting laugh and that texts that you regret in the morning, it is all because there's an angel outside your window, but it happens only at midnight. ;-)

@thenightquill @picklemafia

Never met a character I related more to, the way he daydreams his way towards self destruction, all the time being aware of what he is doing, but it's too late to come back because his delusion and obsession with escaping somewhere in his mind has done irreparable damage to his actual life.

He is.

When you remember how bright your eyes used to shine, how it looks like you are staring into a dead persons soul when you watch them in the mirror. Because every time you smile, you try to remember the last time you really did. And every time you step out of your house, you have to fight the feeling of some bad news following you. How hard you try to not be this person, but this is all you were fated to be. The challenge wasn't if you will survive this or not, it was how much of you will be left.

The thing is, there might be a lesson, but there's no mercy. There's no mercy at all.

The first ray of sunshine in the morning, the smell of wet earth, night spent giggling because your favourite person sent you a text, the long calls with your mother, your favorite food- when it's just the right amount of warm, the smell of your Perfume and fresh sheets, wind in your hair during an evening stroll, smiling at little kids, old people smiling at you from their porch, the first time you laugh after a long day, the pictures in my photo album, the newspaper cuts of places I am yet to visit, telling someone that I am in love with them to the point of obsession, sharing everything and anything with your best friends, mindless gossip while eating something weird, looking in the mirror the first thing in the morning, all the places I did not see, all the people I did not love, the clothes I am yet to wear, food I am yet to try, snow falling, the sight of wood burning, leaves falling, flowers blooming, pink, orange, green, yellow. Everything coming to life. I am not done yet.

If you get to meet God someday, what is the question that you'll ask him? I have thought and thought about it so let me go first - Why? I did as I was told, I smiled at strangers, I was kind to everyone, I stepped on myself to help people. I studied, I worked hard, I even became a new person. Then why does nothing ever come easy to me?

Do I believe in god? Well yes, because nothing is capable of causing the kind of damage to my soul, that it still echoes in my nightmares years later. No one is this cruel and unforgiving, unfazed by everything, hidden in plain sight. You know how they say that power rots a person from inside out? And how god made us in his own image? Well,he was the first thing the universe ever saw getting corrupted, it started with him. There has to be a god somewhere, because if not, my suffering makes no sense. And that's not fair, living my whole life as a cripple couldn't be for nothing. There is something at the other end, maybe I'll finally be able to see the people I love happy, maybe I'll be able to cry without feeling guilty, someone will see me cry and I won't flinch and they won't look away. The words will make sense, the promises will have truth, to hope won't be so painful, the small child will finally be allowed to run free. Maybe hell will be better, but I'll meet him somewhere, I have waited my whole life to meet him.

It took me 19 years to hug my mother for the first time, longer for my father. So I want to throw up whenever you hug me, because the only time we hugged in my house was when someone was leaving, and it makes my skin crawl to see you try to leave. I knew since I was a child that all the doors slamming anywhere, were because of me, anyone upset was because I made them that way. I believed and believed that if wasn't here, things would be better, easier. So when you say I make you happy I know you are lying, because I can't do that. I have been holding my breath for sometime now, waiting for you to leave, because this time I don't want to leave first.

Translation: "Galib", the poet addressing us, says,

You are naive in wondering why do we keep on living,

It is because our destiny wants us to keep longing for death for a few more days.

" Mirza Galib' was was a great Indian poet, known for his beautiful, honest and heartbreaking poetry. Its a part of a beautiful poem, where he talks about his grief due to the loss of his adopted son, who died at a young age.

(Do tell me if you want the complete poem )

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