ephemeral;

little footsteps, fleeting dreams

[latesoliloquys-blog]

Sucks when you have to be an adult, face people, go to work and fulfill obligations, when everything inside of you would rather drown in the nearest pool or go home and bury yourself under mountains of pillows and duvets and never resurface.

[outcastmag]

[latesoliloquys-blog]

I keep doing things I swore to myself I never will and that's the problem. I know fully well the consequences, but I keep doing them again and again and it has been tiring. I keep going back to where I started, and barely finish without having to stop and repeat again. I need to keep myself together, because at this rate, I am just going in circles and going nowhere.

[inkskinned]

on a scale of one to ten how sad are you.

you almost say seven but the answer floats in your lungs like rising mud. you shift your shoulders. some part of you is already forming an excuse. that it’s not that bad sometimes. one, two, three on a day that the clouds are out. you’re just complaining about stuff. yesterday you laughed past a brick of a four, does that make the brick come down to a two-point-five.  the solid seven panic attack of last tuesday feels somehow like a little thorn, just a regular day full of a gentle three-point-nine earthquake rocking after yesterday’s close-to-an-eight. see but if tomorrow you have a real bad day, it will make today look simple.

and what if. what if tomorrow it’s a big old red eight-point-nine. like one of those days where sirens are going off in every part of you but you’re stuck behind a glass window watching it all burn down. like one of those days that your skin against the air feels foreign. like too much of everything. like sitting-in-the-shower, like can’t-eat, like the tide isn’t just coming in, it came while you were sleeping and now you’ve gotta learn how to swim. like bounce me against a bullet hole kind of day.

you keep numbers like nine and ten way out of reach. those are for the people who really are suffering. you’ve got no excuse. nine and ten are funeral numbers, for real problems, not yours, no. and sometimes you’re fine. and you’re kind of used to it. and it’s not sad, it’s just numb like a television caught on static. numb like i can’t remember if i care about this. numb like nothing works but i can’t be bothered to fix it. that’s not sad that’s every day stuff. everybody feels like this, right? feels like they’ve been shut off. right.  

maybe five. right in the middle. like not gonna shoot myself but i’m not wasting your time. a nonanswer. like could be worse could be better. like i need help but i don’t want you to worry even though i need someone to worry about me because i can’t worry about myself. maybe five. but what if five is too small. what if five is too big. what if -

“on a scale of one to ten,” he repeats into your silence, and then pauses. “and please be honest about this.”

[thequotejournals]

This is one more piece of advice I have for you: don’t get impatient. Even if things are so tangled up you can’t do anything, don’t get desperate or blow a fuse and start yanking on one particular thread before it’s ready to come undone. You have to figure it’s going to be a long process and that you’ll work on things slowly, one at a time.

Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood (via wnq-writers)

[inkskinned]

“Why can’t you understand that I can’t believe you love me?” (r.i.d)

[latesoliloquys-blog]

I don’t think anything could have prepared me seeing your eyes slowly lose their glimmer. I don’t think anything could have prepared me touching your cold, unresponsive hands. And I don’t think anything could have prepared me when it was announced that your heart has finally stopped beating. Not the last few words you said to me, not the doctor’s advice of taking you home because it’s a lost cause anyway, and not even the last few hours I spend on your bed, holding your hand. Nothing could have prepared me because it’s been years and years, and I still clutch my chest from the pain and the tears still fall easily from my eyes when I think about that day you breathe your last.

[latesoliloquys-blog]

And that’s the thing about being scared, I guess. All your fears, they can go away for a while, and you’ll think you can finally be fine.That you got this, and that monsters aren’t real after all. And then suddenly, they’re all back. All the things you’re trying so hard to run away from are back barging in your door at 3 am, even more terrifying than ever, depriving you of sleep yet again. And you realize, there’s no use of fighting them. So you welcome them all in your head. With a promise of picking up whatever pieces of yourself are left when morning comes, you let all these fears consume you.

[latesoliloquys-blog]

I'm sitting on a bus on my way to university and my thoughts are a complete mess. I wonder how many people have I sat beside with on a bus or on the train with these scary thoughts running around their heads. How many of them were able to survived their day and how many didn't.

[spaceataraxy]

Wanna make a monster? Take the parts of yourself that make you uncomfortable - your weaknesses, bad thoughts, vanities, and hungers - and pretend they’re across the room. It’s too ugly to be human. It’s too ugly to be you. Children are afraid of the dark because they have nothing real to work with. Adults are afraid of themselves.

Black Telephone, Richard Siken (via vialatt)

[latesoliloquys-blog]

I have hands that can destroy the littlest of things, so I'd rather if you heed my warning and stay far away because your beauty does not deserve this tragedy.

[portmandia]

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

Stop comparing where you’re at with where everyone else is. It doesn’t move you farther ahead, improve your situation, or help you find peace. It just feeds your shame, fuels your feelings of inadequacy, and ultimately, it keeps you stuck. The reality is that there is no one correct path in life. Everyone has their own unique journey. A path that’s right for someone else won’t necessarily be a path that’s right for you. And that’s okay. Your journey isn’t right or wrong, or good or bad. It’s just different. Your life isn’t meant to look like anyone else’s because you aren’t like anyone else. You’re a person all your own with a unique set of goals, obstacles, dreams, and needs. So stop comparing, and start living.

Daniell Koepke (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

[latesoliloquys-blog]

I have a lot of things I am afraid of, and it’s been getting harder to keep them at bay these days and not completely consume the entirety of my thoughts, especially at night. But I am really far from being the strongest, so they get to slip past my deffenses, and I am left wide awake, like tonight, staring at the ceiling and wondering ‘what if I don’t get my life together?’

[latesoliloquys-blog]

I am trying to sort my life out and find my way back to chasing after my dreams (which was put to a halt four years ago), but it has been evidently hard without an actual compass of life to tell me where on earth I should go and without an instruction manual on how to get there. Someone tell me why is science not on these things yet?

[latesoliloquys-blog]

I should have hold on tighter.

Six-word story #5

[latesoliloquys-blog]

It has always been a toss between wanting people to break down the barriers I build around me and fearing that after they've successfully get through my defenses, I would only scare them away with my emptiness. And I have always let fear consume me - building back what people have broken down and molding even higher walls - and the people? They have stopped trying a long, long time ago. Not that I can blame them, when I am one heck of a puzzle to solve.