blake kathryn
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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ellievsbear
Origami Around
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Discoholic 🪩
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izzy's playlists!
Today's Document
JBB: An Artblog!
YOU ARE THE REASON
⁂
taylor price
sheepfilms
Claire Keane
Not today Justin
if i look back, i am lost
seen from United States
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@manyasaxenawrites
I know it's a difficult time and a difficult world that we are living in. I hope you haven't lost your hope. I won't say that it will get better because I don't know if it will but I'm certain that we can live this through, one day at a time. I hope you all the power and strength.
Love and prayers your way.
In between phases
There was love in phases.
Phase I – Korean Cultural Center, Delhi
It was wrapped in the kimbap, served with soy sauce on the side – only one had to ask for it. We wanted to hold hands, and keep holding – only one had to ask for it. Love came, saw us with the kimbap, and left, without asking first, empty-stomached.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Phase II – Siolim, Goa
You would be surprised at what I do for love. It was tucked deep under our bed. We looked for it, begged it to find us; it refused to show – this time, asking did not help. There was a cosmic rendezvous in the sky that night, yet ours remained absent.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Phase III – Queen Street Station, Glasgow
It was in the seeds we fed the ravens. It is impressive how easily they follow you, it is even more impressive how easily I followed. Goodbye seemed easy; it healed something that I did not realise needed healing – this time, I did not ask.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Phase IV – Lumpini Place, Bangkok
I remember packing it; it is kept somewhere safe, yet I can no longer find it. Bits of it left in places where it was felt the strongest – no one asked for it.
There was love in phases, and in phases where it became a memory.
female rage in literature is very personal to me
And truly, do I sleep? What does it mean to disconnect from the real – to enter a world entirely new – entirely false, or is it – to leave the false and embrace a reality, ever-changing?
And more so, I ask, do I dream? I’m told you can’t see another’s face in that realm – but yours is there, so ever clear, so, I ask, what does it mean, to dream?
When waking life is so cartoonishly silly, and sometimes awful, and sometimes wonderful, that I can only help but think it’s all a ruse, and, truthfully –
I never remember waking up.
Always opening lidded eyes to strange new worlds that I do not, and cannot, know –
What does it mean, I ask, to exist and know and – what does it mean to feel?
Found amazing Spoken Word content on Spotify that I decided to make a playlist for it. Give it some love and appreciation.
What is worse than not being loved? Knowing that no one loves you.
“are u ok” no i want to leave the country and start over
I've never found sunsets to associate with hope, if anything they are the most depressing of the things.
hi, sorry to interrupt your scrolling, but I just wanted to remind you that you are beautiful and loved. thanks! carry on
Happy Birthday!! 😘
Thank you 😊
The best love stories are the ones which lasts enough for you to love and find yourself and ironically they are also the worst.
The night I realised I needed therapy
It was 2 in the night, and I was watching
a reaction video on my phone. It was 2
in the night, so I let my mind go and let
it roam freely wherever it wanted to. It
had been on the leash the entire morning.
It was 2 in the night and I didn't anticipate
what might happen.
I remember distinctly that I was breathing
fine. I was breathing fine, a moment and
the other I was racing along with my
thoughts. It wasn't too late, and my body
started racing around my room too. It was
2 in the night, so I decided to not wake
people up. People, what people? I'm alone.
Sometimes I wish to sleep this feeling away,
but if I sleep now, I'll be caged in my mind
where my sleep demon awaits my arrival,
and I am not ready for that rendezvous.
Hence, I'm awake. Trying to breathe, trying
to sleep, failing at both.
I clearly remember, meeting him, them,
when I briefly closed my eyes. It happens,
not a lot but in the night, when it's 2, that's
the only thing that my brain does. When I see
them, I don't see colors, I don't hear their
voice, I see them and I see myself through
them.
When I look at myself, through them, I see a
sack of blood and flesh, lying on the bed,
Immobile and frozen. I see a pathetic body
not even trying to fight it, using the 21
seconds rule as an escape to not move. It's
almost as if she wants to stay in this state
forever.
When I see myself looking at me, I feel
frantic. I hate myself at that moment, but I
can't, I just can't move. I know if I stood up
right now, I'll fight it. I'll fight with everything,
I'll run away, and I'll be gone and if I lay there
all night, without moving, my judgement
would stare me down and leave me in my
misery.
They are getting closer with each thought
that chokes me. I want to break the barrier
and just hide in the bathroom. Why am I
resisting this? They are here, reaching out
to me and there's nothing more for me to do
than join them and live in this vulnerability.
ज़िन्दगी का फलसफा भी कितना अजीब है शामें कटती नहीं और साल गुज़रते चले जा रहे है.
- पीयूष मिश्रा
Translation -
How strange is the philosophy of life, the evenings do not end and the years are passing by.
- Piyush Mishra
25. Anxiety
One moment you are sitting still,
the other you're not. The worst
moment for anxiety to hit is
probably when you least expect
it. Can you expect it though? It
waits for you to be weak, or to
be your happiest self. It strikes
when you feel nothing and then
your whole world comes collapsing.
Anxiety, holds you hostage in your
own body. Sucks your soul and
keeps it that way, lifeless and
unattended. It's the feeling of heat
in an air-conditioned room, the dip
in your heart while taking a dump,
the paralyses induced when you
hear about that one trigger that you
just discovered is triggering.
ANXIETY, the word is enough to
render you inactive, perplexed,
agitated, sad, and all the other
emotions you can't name. This
blank document writing itself
and bringing within it the anxious
scrolling while the heart still dips
and beats in tones not understood
by me.
24. A paranoid hate poem
The walls piercing through their plaster,
as if watching me, mocking me, there
are four. I'm locked in a room and my
demons are feeding on my mind. The
bed shakes sometimes, and sometimes
it refuses to move, it holds me close
and screams that it'll never let me go.
I'm locked in a room and my demons are
feeding on my mind. My bookshelf sits
there, waiting for me to run my fingers
through it like I used to, but I don't have
that childlike enthusiasm left in me like
I had in November. I'm locked in a room
with my demons who never let me sleep.
I'm locked in this room with my demons,
and they are feeding on my soul. I'm
locked in this godforsaken room, seeking
an out and these demons are sucking the
life out of me. I'm locked in this room
awaiting my sweet release.
