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@mirrorneuronmorons
Um...Hello?
I forgot i could technically stalk people online by asking mutuals to show me~ I forget people exist in a completely different wavelength than me on the internet. Making fake acounts and borrowing people's phones to keep tabs on someone. Meanwhile I'm on the news without even trying. Google me. Google you? Nothing. I ain't even trying. ;*
I hear some songs and try to chase what i felt about what when i use to listen to it and i can't. i think my subconscious just faces the fall out from it through my nightmares later. No point in making my body deal with that, but sometimes someone just puts on a song and I want to remember. I think not being able to remember compounds the loneliness. Maybe it doesn't, maybe remembering vividly is the worst thing you can be afflicted with. The lack of memory does a lot of weird things to my identity though. If a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound? If i dont remember who has witnessed me, have i changed, have i been, are there aspirations of who i can be? I'm not so ethereal anymore. I'm here on the ground, and its scary. I mean ill always be who i am, being down here just makes things worse. My husband keeps me down here. To be honest he doesn't have enough money to keep me aloft. To keep me aloof. I was never suppose to be here though. It's not his fault. My Mother is Holy. She raised me to be somewhere else. She raised me to be loved and for the world to be Just. No puedo pedirle lo eterno a un simple mortal.
Nobody is here. It is just me and you, before all of it. I didn't really lose anything when I lost them, and thats always been true, it just took me a long time to see it. The same shallow pond of people. The same familiar things that I thought gave me ground to grow out of. Even with every way my life turned I thought I needed something to go back to, ignoring everything that was new, treating it like anovelty. Who am I now in this new room? This new office? My office will always change, there will always be somewhere for my mind and body to disappear into. Ive never tried to disappear into someone new. Maybe I don't have to. But life is long enough that I might try that someday. Not because it's the right philosophy to live by, but because damn well feel like living that way for a time. Life is an experiment. Conduits and action. My kids taught me that yeah, you can try and understand anything all the time, but whats real is whats right in front of you. I don't want to be taken away by the etherial anymore. I wan to see it for it's art, but I cannot live inside it. Love and everything else, is what there, is whats in your hand. Ive always been good at Texas Hold'em, Spades, 8s. Theres many perfect games I've walked away from. What more do I have to prove after I've won?
I still don't know what I'm trying to do here anymore. The loss of anonymity changes the tone, changes the vibe. I cant speak to you honestly anymore. I feel seen and that discredits myself in a way. I'm not supposed to exist here, im just supposed to be thoughts and now that's lost. Me writing here is me trying to hold onto something. Me trying to hold on to what it use to be like when i turn out the light, walk up the stairs, and disappear into the night into my computer. But thats not me anymore, I have a foot in reality at any given moment. I am a mother always now. Even when im trying to be myself, its fundamentally changed and Im no longer who I was. I know it's right, but I still feel loss. I don't know if its worth it to lose that whimsy. Performative whimsy i can do, as a color palette, as a wardrobe change, as some words, i can still act whimsy, but to feel it in my soul, is gone. I will always have one foot firmly on the ground. My back foot, my stabilizing foot, my flat foot. She is steady and firm. Real. I am seated in reality forever. I didn't know love would make me take this pill.
My Place
Forgetting where i stand in this world, who i am is who people see because what they see results in whatās going to happen to me. Remember my place. Mind my place. Know my place. Work from my place. I can make anything happen right? Change this perception. Better know myself. Better move and function in the world and āmanageā all its intricacies. But yeah, no. My Mother made my place when I was born. I was on Earth for just a moment before she picked me up and lifted to the stars. In her gaze, relegated me to the sky, blue and wide and dark and light. Her hair was fire, all around her face, she was the sun, but I was everything else. Here on Earth I might exist one way, but out there where life is real, where atoms stop when witnessed, is me. I stop with them because i move with them. As unpredictable as the magnetic field, beyond the years and decades, I will become light when the world is burned. I will exist forever. This is my place.
by fossilisedflowers (found on instagram)
(I don't like to repost screenshots but they're not on Tumblr that I could find and I thought some of these ideas were great, so I wanted to share!)
yes and no, relying on 3rd parties in any sense is like donating 20/mo to children in Africa, or just what you give in taxes tot he government. Outside from the first thing on this list, you must be directly actionable in giving these things out directly. Involved in the process if even to just stand there when itās done.
She no longer exists
cause she's not with you
I am sorry
I was always something bigger than you.
Trouble
having all my favorite things around me. All the things that use to make me feel alive. And nothing working. Nothing giving that "umph" of "I am here" is scary. But the. I have to remember I have mental illness. Things aren't what they seem. I must survive this season. I have created children. I must be here when they need me. People have "sold their souls" for less. I can lie a little. Till it goes away. Cause I am not my mental illness. It is only a part of me.
Everyone I Love is Sleeping
I like to act like I don't exist. I like to think anything I do doesn't matter. I tend to hope that things stay this way forever. I think I want more people to love and to love me, but I'm already so overwhelmed with a handful of you. My heart is still so tight. I became someone so brave once. So brave I could bring a life into this world and love her and protect her. Then I became reborn as a mother and I am brand new now and afraid. How do I take care of a universe? How do I take care of two?
How do I prepare for a black hole to collapse? Will I know something has happened way too late? Will the sparkle of her last star reach me in time to at least hold her one last time? Will I be forced to live with her empty space beside me. The stillness of a deep night isn't comforting anymore. There are parts of me now out there, vibrating, living, burning hot in the sky, and they demand my materialization.
can't be like "idk how so many people got on board with this 'robot racism' thing when the point is that they're straight up engaging in their racist fantasies that they just redirected towards robots" because i'm not stupid but it's just so so so ugly. the joke is just "yeah this is how i'd treat people of color if i could but i feel like i can't get away with that anymore so here's my list of robot slurs based on actual racial slurs"
i thought the joke was we are emulating how ridiculous racist people sound.
Nothing slapped my shit back into place like someone pointing out that the "genius gifted child with so much potential who got burnout and mental illness" is just the nerd equivalent to the jock "could have been a pro at sportsball if it wasn't for the injury".
Having been the genius child saying this kind of stuff justy reminds me of how ill equipped schools and society continue to be for the average human despite the social contract to live harmoniously in exchange for safety and equity.
I want to confess
but thatās not what free writes are for. I use to think I didnāt have an audience for my free writes. Who could really understand all of this? But I do. Apparently they have to read at a a college level and have experienced a bit of life, which, unfunnily enough, actually eliminates a lot of college people and regular people so who am i left with. Is my audience out there reading this? Probably not cause yāall canāt read or yāall just donāt get it. But Iām imagining for the first time me on some stage in a chair looking out at you. Peering past the bright lights, so eager. Who has been listening? Has anyone been listening? I know one of you has been listening with bad intent, but Iām not worried about them right now. Who are you? The rest of you? What do you want from this? Just some art? Did I live, am i living my whole life just to make some art? No itās not that drastic. I just happened to make some art out of my life along the way. Isnāt that beautiful. Iām sure youāve made some art too audience. I hope to see it one day and enjoy it like youāve enjoyed mine. I hope to give you your flowers.
Human fingers can detect nano-size objects. This means you not only have the ability to feel a tiny bump the size of a large molecule, but if your finger was the size of Earth, you could determine the difference between a house and a car. Source
And yet its still almost impossible to find the end of the tape
cowards. i can already tell the difference between a house and a car
The Earth can feel us on her and we are becoming annoying af.
I think I'd be entitled to be madder
If I hadn't had been doing it to meet my own needs mostly. I said a lot of thingsin my own head that I really mean. My sisters like a rubber band, she snaps. But I'm not pulled and I don't snap. There'd have to be counter resistance from me for someone to pull. I get pushed, because I'm fixed to where I am and I didn't ask for anything else or anything around me than the space I stand where I've been found. So I get pushed and pushed and pushed and I fall off the edge always. Falling off has never been into a gigantic void. It's not a dark abyss, I fall and "crash" into a new world. New surroundings. I turn around to hit the scenery with my whole face body self. To see myself fall and what I'm falling into. Life renews, begins again, my life always will. When life has always been like this, I wonder why everyone else wonders why I wish to stand still. I've never had to visit someplace to know if its magnificent. I know it is because I trust the people, stories, and world around me and I believe where I am myself is a magnificent place. The wonders I'm looking for are not the same. I live a life that is so much more than myself. Always has been that way and objectively always will be. Wether I'm happy or sad while it's happening. But I deserve to get mad. And I deserve to stay mad. If God didn't want me to be mad, he wouldn't of given me the ability to be.
I hate that I'm losing someone who loves Lili. Like what am I suppose to do. People you love can be so many, but people that love you are so hard to hold onto. How am I supposed to fix this and replace him? I'm losing someone who loves Lili and I'm in a panic.
Lilia with an A
Having learned a bit more about how life can unfold. I feel now inside the truth about love. My children have taught me that even now, inherently, I've always know that love expresses itself this way, but it's been hard since I learned what kind of man my Father is. Maybe I just can't believe I could forgive someone in that romantic way because I've spent most of my life, my hopeful and romantic young life, forgiving my Father that way. Every space in between I was able to be my self, be full of love and freedom. But every time something happened it wasn't enough to be yelled it, I had to be humiliated too, demeaned, and have the people around me be hurt in front of me and be powerless. Now with children, I feel it's guarded more against it. I am not free. I am not full of love. It hides in a special place, and every space in between I have to watch out, look around and make sure someone isn't trying something, anything. Having to share my youngest, I feel the barrier form. I love her so much, but around her Father, his family, I feel like I can't show it too much. I don't want them to hold it against me. I'm scared everyone will know how much I love them and hurt them because they know it will hurt me. I'm scared of what I'll be if that happens to any of my children. But with her is more frequently because from 8-5 she's mine while he's at work and I can love her freely. At 5 when he gets home, I still love her and play with her, but I can't show preference or NEED. Cause what if one day life flips? Men always flip so the world always flips. And it always hurts the people most vulnerable around them. And they still get up and brush their teeth like nothings wrong. Till someone stops them. Abruptly. That's all that they deserve. Not the secret place in between where mothers love their children and the children inherit the Earth.
But if I were to be loved right, the first time, the way someone like me was supposed to to be loved. It would have been like Anne. Some misunderstandings, and unspoken apologies, and both of us running towards each other the moment we realized we had always loved each other.
