You Will Get Through This

Welcome to my blog! I’m just an awkward 17 year old trying to get through life :)

[onlyfoolswantedfame]

everyone wants to be with you

they all see exactly what I see in you.

there’s a light that’s often lost

that’s found a home in your heart.

it shines bright and gives warmth to those who hear your words.

lest this light be stolen you must search for it again. do not let others take it for it belongs within.

whoever you choose to love

may they see this light and protect it with all their heart.

this light is one in a million and it belongs to you.

[writing-prompt-s]

If you’re over 25 and haven’t done something remarkable, you are hunted down and killed. Some people invent things. Some make cures for diseases. Others become established members of their community. You’re pushing 30, and somehow not dead yet, even though you cant think of a single thing you’ve done thats remarkable in any way. Why aren’t you dead?

[inkskinned]

i keep coming back to this conversation. i sit on docks or in hallways or in the bright light of panels i talk in and i say: okay. yeah, i have “published books” but they’re self-published, what does that count. yeah, i have pieces in many, many magazines, but online culture isn’t real, is it. yeah, i’m working literally-not-a-joke five jobs, one volunteer position, and two student leadership positions and i’m in grad school on a full ride. but i could have been a lawyer, you know. i chose to go into writing, how selfish. i always talk about my engineer siblings with my eyes closed, because i know the look that people get: oh but you turned out like this? just, what? an internet poet?

I’m 25 and what I can make out of my life is: 45 hours on skyrim without making anybody die. i have, like, a lot of followers on the only social platform it doesn’t fucking matter on. i guess one time rihanna, unknowingly, reposted a repost of my work on her twitter, uncredited, so that was pretty interesting.

sometimes, because of what i write and who i am, i get messages that read: i think i’m going to end it. i don’t need you to help me, i just need to tell somebody. and i’m not a therapist. but i’m a good talker. better at listening. and every once in a while, i get the chance to talk people down from things. sometimes i get thanked for it. more often i talk until i hear nothing. i lie awake wondering: oh god. did they do it. was i not enough for them. lord, are you listening? can you help me? can you protect them?

i don’t do a lot. i don’t know math. i can’t knit. i am allergic to basically all things. the world at 25 feels really, really fucking bleak. look at what other people are doing with their time on earth. look at what children are capable of. god, who am i? i am crumbling to dust.

but then i remember: i have two ears and one big heart. and i can listen. and i can read. and i can be there when someone needs me. no, i don’t know math, but i know how to help when someone’s been crying. i can’t knit but i know how to hold someone’s hand when they’re too scared to admit they’re panicking. i am still allergic to everything but it’s just made me appreciate that our bodies are not cars to crash. we aren’t broken, we’re rebuilding, we’re in the process of magic; we create even in the face of all that destroys, we have been destroyed and still we tilt our heads back and look up and keep going and say, fuck no, not today, death can wait; i don’t have a bucket list because who can live that long but i still want to know what it feels like to skinny-dip and no! i didn’t think i’d make it to 25 and i’ve wasted god, so much of this divine and precious life

but today someone from four years ago finally messaged me. hey. thank you for being there all that time ago. thank you for listening. i’m alive, i’m well, and i’m finally, thank god, healing

and that’s the answer, my beloved, my angels, my dragons - no prose or poetry or lyrics about it. we weren’t put here to rot, to stagnate, to unfulfill. we weren’t put here to answer the prayers of our parents or the gifted-child prophecies or read from the book of poor-kid-doesn’t-understand-anything. our lives aren’t made from milestones, aren’t made from birth-marriage-mansion goals, we don’t survive by the starter gun. we were put here, each of us, because we have one heart big enough to fit love. to look into the yawn of space and say, that makes me curious. to put cold toes in the unknown ocean and say she is my home. to look wolves in the eye and say oh, you’re me, and you’re mine. we love, don’t we, so big and wild that our smallness feels like erupting.

i looked into myself and i said: what have i done at 25?

oh, oh, oh, i just remembered: i kept myself alive.

[afreenisnotapoet]

There’s a fine line you know,

Between wanting to hold on to something and letting go forever,

You feel betrayed but you still have hope that maybe things will change,

You sit in your room alone thinking that winter is beautiful,

But nothing helps because you feel cold within yourself,

Like someone or something has made your blood go cold,

But you still hold on to something,

You look for the sunshine everyday, peeping through your curtains,

You smile,

You laugh,

You try to love things that aren’t even your interests anymore,

All because you want to be happy,

Hours of looking in the mirror and seeing nothing but all your past mistakes,

Splashing water, over yourself, screaming,

Still trying to make things better by trying to find the piece you lost in the path of growing up,

You go on long drives, it makes you feel like there’s something more to your life than people who’ve left,

You think about yourself,

You feel like nothing is worth the pain you’re giving yourself,

You want to start everything all over again,

But the struggle of going through all of it again stops you,

You always have a little hint of happiness on your face,

When someone compliments you,

You laugh thinking how good you’ve become at deceit,

But you still love flowers,

You still talk to the moon,

You still call your best friend and help them through their problems,

You say you’re okay,

You feel okay,

But the feeling of being just okay kills you,

You are a person who is supposed to be great,

You’re supposed to be the sunshine to so many peoples lives,

But what do you do when your own life has come to a never ending eclipse is the question you ask yourself,

You don’t give up at anything,

Even if it counts to nothing,

You still live,

For yourself, most importantly,

And that’s what makes you a hero,

Because when everyone else gives up,

You’ve still held on to yourself,

And with time you’ll heal,

With time.

-afreen

As requested by @trintayyyy I hope you like it!! 💞💞

[onlyfoolswantedfame]

[zelia-kent1-blog]

america.

the flag of the red, the white and the blue,

there’s a place for me and you

oh wait, not you, no, your eyes aren’t light blue.

hey, that’s not fair

and neither is your skin - it’s a battle you can’t win. the importance held within , to them it means nothing. it’s where you were born and how much you matter in our corrupt capitalist financial ladder.

it’s where you live and the love you choose to forgive. it’s what you believe and what you achieve, if achievement is even an option. you start on top and get higher , calling the beggar a liar, telling him to just work harder.

it’s the way she walks, the tight clothes she chooses to wear, how she talks and what she does with her own goddamn body.

it’s the hypocrisy of our lives, preaching pro-life and yet never speaking up for the lives of caged animals- wait i mean kids. yes the kids who aren’t kids who we keep in cages while we pretend nothing’s happening while they’re trapped and napping under blankets of tin at ages younger than ten.

it’s your religion whose precision avoids the brown lives who also matter.

because according to you all lives do matter, right?

but if this were true, you wouldn’t be calling the police when people are just living.

because maybe to you a sweet barbecue is a violation of the order in which a black family must be guilty. maybe when a beautiful girl is just keeping it fresh it must immediately cause a mess when the police becomes intense. guns are drawn while the rest of us hardly ever fawn at the daily news that no longer stimulates blues.

another day, another shooting, and a white teen who lost his mental footing is given more empathy than a black teen lacking sympathy who needed to feel empty and who used a quick 20 for 1. and as he sits in jail until he turns 60, 600 other kids will never return home.

it’s your gun or my life, it’s her life or its’ life, it’s his life and only after is it his. it’s your tradition or my decision, it’s your status or my labor, it’s your money or my time. it’s your lies or my vote, it’s my vote or his life, it’s your happiness or it’s mine.

america,

the red, the white, and the blue.

it’s either me or it’s you.

[poetburning]

like icarus,

i fly, i fall.

like legends and lovers do.

upwards towards the sun, downward towards the sea.

on molted, golden wings and reckless abandon.

the sun will mourn for me, the sea will sing my name.

and my bones will line the ocean floor with misused wings.

like icarus,

i dont regret a thing.

( - is flying worth the fall? they asked him.

always, he whispered back. always.)

[onlyfoolswantedfame]

🌙

I’m always lost

Without a place

It feels like I’m

In outer space

The world below me

Doesn’t know me

And I don’t belong

To anyone.

It’s been a long

Time

Of feeling alone

And I just want

A place to call home

[onlyfoolswantedfame]

Did I ever deserve you?

You were the brightest colors

And I was the darkest gray.

I created a storm wherever I went.

But you never left.

I was so incredibly lost

And you were a light.

I know now that leaving was best

Your light was dimming

And I was losing my own fight

But I had to do it alone.

I still think of you

And think of what we could have been

If I wasn’t who I was.

[honeysapling]

take me away ☁️

[onlyfoolswantedfame]

We assign our value to numbers

That have no meaning

I constantly have these values

hanging over my head

Telling me that I’m

Not enough.

When will being a person be enough

When will our value be assigned to

What we contribute to this planet

I am not a statistic

I am not a number

I am a person.

But we put achievements before struggles and push those down that cannot achieve these standards

That have become normal.

When we cannot do enough

Or achieve enough

We lose our value in society

What does that teach those growing up in it?

You can try but you will never be enough.

You are just not cut out for our society

No is always the answer.

And they ask why the younger are growing bolder

They ask why we are becoming more loud.

We do not want to be defined by our failures.

And we will fight for happiness over success.

[danger]

[onlyfoolswantedfame]

It feels like it’s always one of those nights. Where you feel so wrong in every way. Your mind tells you that you’re not worth it. How could you believe that when you’re an angel that’s lost it’s home. You are the moon. though you have a dark side there are still those that prefer you over the sun. you don’t have to be bright to be loved, just be you.

[roachpatrol]

ultimately i think kindness is the most radical thing you can do with your pain and your anger. it’s like, you take everything awful that’s ever been done to you, and you throw it back in the world’s teeth, and you say no, fuck you, i’m not going to take this.  you say this is unacceptable. you say that shit stops with me.

humans are fucking terrible and this awful world we live in will fucking kill you but if you are kind, if you are brave and clever and try really hard, you can defy it. you can impose on this bleak and monstrous structure something beautiful. even if it’s temporary. even if it doesn’t heal anything inside you that’s been hurt.  

i’m gonna sleep and i’m gonna wake up and i swear by everything in this deadly horrible universe i’m gonna make someone happy. 

[roachpatrol]

i’ve seen a number of comments and tags where people feel that they must swallow or repress their anger in order to engage in kindness. that is not at all what i am recommending here. radical kindness is an expression of anger. it is not passive. it is not repressive. it does not require you, in any way, to forgive those that have fucked you up. it does not require you to be quiet. 

it just requires that you be kind. viciously. vengefully. you fight back. you plant flowers. give to charity. play games. pet someone’s dog. scream into the dark. paint and write and dance, tell jokes, sing songs, bake cookies. you have been hurt and you don’t have to deny that hurt. you just have to recognize it in other people, and take their hand, and say: no more. enough. fuck this. no more. 

have a cookie.

i will say this again: we are all going to die. the universe is enormous and almost entirely empty. to be kind to each other is the most incredible act of defiance against the dark that i can imagine. 

[naamahdarling]

i will say this again: we are all going to die. the universe is enormous and almost entirely empty. to be kind to each other is the most incredible act of defiance against the dark that i can imagine.

[totallygenericusername]

Dancing on my own // Calum Scott

[onlyfoolswantedfame]

Everything feels pointless sometimes, but ironically, I think that’s the point. Sometimes it’s the moments that we least expect that mean the most. You may feel like learning to sew is useless but then someday when on the path to find your dream discover that your favorite acting company is hiring someone to sew and before you know it you’re a director with the biggest company out there. It’s the small moments on the path that lead us to our final destination and you get experiences along the way. So maybe just take that risk and do that thing you’ve never done before, try something new because you never know just how far it might take you.

[onlyfoolswantedfame]

Dear dark side, 

How are you?

We haven’t talked in a while

And I know that I try to push you out

To just not pay attention for a second

But we always come back to where we started

I think that you start to like me

But then suddenly one wrong word

And we are spiraling down another rabbit hole.

You hate me

And then you love me

But why do you always make me feel so bad

What have I ever done to deserve this?

I know that I don’t look like those girls online

So why do you keep reminding me

Telling me that nobody will ever like me

And making me believe that I am not worth any bodies time

But I took a step back from what you’ve been telling me

And I realized that

You’re not worth my time

So, while we still might eventually see each other

I need to take a break

Its not me

Its you.

[onlyfoolswantedfame]

I see in my reflection

The person that I am

Why cant I be better

Why cant I be anybody else but me

They say not to feel that way

That everybody feels self conscious

Once in a while

But this isn’t once in a while

This isn’t just a teenage phase

It’s not normal to feel this way

But it’s become my normal

It’s become the normal for millions of kids

Like me

But I don’t want to be like me

And I don’t want other kids to be like me

Changed because of society

Rules of what a woman must be

Quietly breaking my self esteem

Why must all of us be like them?

The girls in the spotlight

Aren’t even like themselves

So why must we be like them

If they aren’t even real