NYCTOPHILE MIST @nyctophilemist - Tumblr Blog

endlesslifeinpain

nyctophilemist

Posts on nyctophilemist tagged as mine

#nyctophilemist #darkness #night #my writing #muse

toriaelise

tumblr is my safe space pls don’t make it weird

kosmogrl

virgomoon

we're all connected. nothing is scary and i'm not afraid.

64mpg

stop faking orgasms and start yelling boooooo!!!! and throwing tomatoes from your inventory

diablito666

frijolpapi

if people want to leave your life let them.

#even if it hurts #you'll survive #you'll move on #you'll be better off

kisxmesoft

theepoetslove

This reporter at my job told me that I don't look my age.

That she didn't even think I'd hit 30. I shrugged and told her that the light having gone out in my eyes should have told her so.

She laughed and said, "dark humor. You sound like my brother. That makes you....at least three years older. 33?"

I told her that I'll be 36 next month. And that my greys are coming in. And that while some days are very difficult for a person like me, I'm grateful that I've come this far. That I'm lucky to have hit 35.

I never thought I'd live to see 30. I've managed my depression and anxiety disorder for years. I've lost too many relatives and friends to suicide and the first funeral as a result of suicide had me missing the second grade.

Death is all around us. From the on-going genocide in Gaza, Congo, Sudanz etc. To the recent lynchings in the U.S. Brown peoples numbers of being murdered and rape rape have skyrocketed since ICE got their bonus checks.

Despite all internal and external struggles, I persist. It's is a miracle that I can stand and breathe. The fact that I can write this out is a miracle.

The Art of Missing You

A look into your eyes, a kiss on the cheek, a hug; then I turn around, and you’re gone.

So it starts, almost immediately. Begins as a knot in my stomach, moves up to my chest where it sinks in; feeling like a black hole forming, threatening to absorb me into myself.

I take a breath, try to expand my chest to fight off the pressure. When I finally succeed, that’s when it hits my brain. The physical reactions having failed, it’s my mind that takes over.

Thus I wonder, how long will you stay, will you be alright on your way home, who will you meet on your way there, will you stay up long before giving in to sleep, do you dream?

I’m curious about everything, I want to know it all. That’s the only way I can make up for not being next to you; for having to leave you for hours, sometimes days, on end. I belong next to you, yet life denies me.

So I’m left to wonder, remain curious, to miss you until I get to see you again. I know it’s my destiny to miss you constantly, I accept it; for my torment in missing you is proof of how much I feel for you.

Is he watching? I know he is, he sees all. Does he see my dilemma and feels sorry for me? No, I think not, for my predicament continues. Therefore he must see the beauty, the purity, the love that’s at the root of my missing you. For even in a melancholy state such as absence, beauty can be found, like in a masterpiece; and so I’ve become quite proficient in my art, the art of missing you.