In a single quiet moment
unconsciously,
I thought we were four.
But we aren't anymore.

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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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@marshmellow-dragon
In a single quiet moment
unconsciously,
I thought we were four.
But we aren't anymore.
The red-eyed crow,
Made from fire and smoke,
Feeds on the burning dead.
Will you feed on my sorrow too?
The numbness of grief in afterthought:
A metro station in fair weather.
TW: blood, death, gore
.
I sometimes wish that the train door that is supposed to stay closed, would unexpectedly crack open when I'm leaning against it, and I fly off into the void of the wind. I bet there would be a lot of blood as I ricochet in the turbulent gap between two trains, like a marble in a racetrack. I'd probabaly get stiches in order to be presentable when they show my body in my living room. At least I'll be carrying on the legacy. And I wont be the only one who slowly sits here, endlessly alive, counting down the people I love dying around me.
Grief is an impossible thing that you understand individually and can never really express to others.
I lost a heart today.
A red crayon-coloured paper heart.
I wonder if someone will pick it up.
I saw a heart today.
A bright-blue baloon heart, floating away in a cloudless sky.
I wonder if I can find it's owner.
Pink baloon.
Abandoned on the road.
I hope someone runs me over.
Sometimes I look back on my younger self and think, "how was she so wise?!" but also "why was she so stupid!?"
STOP BEING SELF CONSCIOUS ABOUT YOUR CREATIONS STOP SECOND GUESSING WHAT YOU REALLY WANNA DO STOP DEBATING IT'S WORTH. LET YOUR ART SERVE YOU INSTEAD OF THE OTHER WAY AROUND
Ok I'm actually crying right now because I was struggling with my story and questioning every single life decision I have ever made and on the verge of throwing my laptop across the room and then I find this post 😭😭😭
Me, after finishing the final edit in the frantic third draft of the story: *in a shaky voice with quivering fingers* I feel faint. I require nourishment, friend. And hugs. Lots of hugs. *immediate personality change* Also here is an unhinged story for you to cry about. Please give me feedback!
*A abruptly stops in the middle of a dialogue.*
M: Did your brain finally implode then? About time. It must be all that thinking!
8.46am__
things you love fading from your memory is so sad.
i'll always carry a book or show or movie i love in the back of my mind, but whenever someone asks me to tell them about it, i'll realize how much i've forgotten...
the love is still there, but the more time passes since i last read or watched the thing, the more that love becomes love of a concept instead of the thing itself.
.
Moving through these three songs is the only therepy I will ever get for the traumatic college memories.
I did this for the plot of my life. Sorry it fucked with yours though. *irreverent shrug*
I hate this period between obsessions where I can't get over the previous one yet and so I can't get into a new one either. I feel both restless but also also lazy and satisfied.
I feel like a lazy black cat that's found a warm and breezy spot and just refuses to move.
This classic romcom scene just happened on the train in real life wtf?:
They were talking for the whole train ride. Neither were sure where this thing they had between them was going but they had so much to talk about so what did that matter. Her stop came so they said goodbye. She left, getting swept up in the crowd. He sighed at her absence and looked wistfully after her. He took a seat to catch his breath and she looked back, searching for him. Neither caught the other's glance and they went their seperate ways lost in the thought of each other.