PHILOSUICIDE

Rainbow of grey, look at what you've built.

[belorage]

“When I’d first loved him, I wanted to take him apart, as a child dismembers a clockwork toy, to comprehend the inscrutable mechanics of its interior. I wanted to see him far more naked than he was with his clothes off.”

— Angela Carter, from “Flesh and the Mirror,” Burning Your Boats: The Collected Short Stories (via lifeinpoetry)

[nastiebabies]

I’m just a kinky little introvert and that’s just how it is

[disgustinggf]

[philosuicide]

In the process of loving someone, I've come to understand how there is a long road ahead towards loving myself. 

I can’t give you what you deserve, not without due respect to myself, my potential, my ability to come forward and speak about those things that hurt. 

I want to be good. I want to actually love. Not love because I want to be loved, to be absorbed into something. 

I want to be a healthy presence in someone’s life, a contributor to their goals, purposes, path. 

But how can I achieve that without becoming better for myself?

It’s so much easier to direct onto others than it is to claim yourself as an answer. 

Loving can be an answer. But what is genuine love if it’s the abandonment of your own heart, if you’re only ever doing things to get some sort of reaction and warmth in return, to fill that void of nothing?

Even if love is a give and take,

How should I ever know what to give and what to take, without knowing what I need and what I have to offer first?

There are more conflicts within me, than there are conflicts in us, or in our love. 

Love is not painful. 

What is painful is to realize my own immaturity, to deal with my own frustrations and short comings, to hurt others, to overthink and perpetuate traumas that are ghosts in my mind. 

A new love is sort of scary. Kind of like a blank canvas. 

It’s sort of like I’m outside my own body, watching everyone else’s efforts, but I still can’t feel or show them how I feel. 

I get these thoughts that despite all efforts, they will leave. That even if they say they love me, they might not. 

I get trapped onto the feeling of being sucessful, having a job, stability, providing for someone as they equally provide for me. In practice, I fail to do that. Will I still be worthy of love?

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

“You can say anything and I will not abandon you.”

[while-i-kiss-the-sky]

[lone-nyctophile]

- Beau Taplin

[geryone]

Pink, Sylvie Baumgartel

[leonardospoetry]

infinite now

[bill-nye-official-blog]

this weed tastes like the lake I nearly drowned in as a kid

[bill-nye-official-blog]

I've been staring at these tags for a while @persnicketypansy.

[museofaesthetics]

i want a soft connection. i want to be asked how my day went and if i need anything. i want forehead kisses. i want the back of my hand kissed at red lights. i want to be asked how i’m mentally feeling. i want to hold hands everywhere we go. i want romantic gestures. i want my hair played in at the most unexpected moments. i want silent eye connections that lead to smiles. i want to take random walks.

[deviika]

Fernando Pessoa // Michel Foucault

[feral-ballad]

Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak; “Eat”

[Text ID: “I am trying to stop doing / things that don’t make any sense. Body, / forgive me. I am trying. I am trying. I am still trying.]

[geryone]

Sick, Jody Chan

[jiniwithoutthex]

my body doesn't feel like home anymore, it feels like a place I want to escape from.

i just want to escape

[leonardospoetry]

Some chapters of life don’t actually have an apparent ending. They just fade away silently.

It’s a strange feeling to look back at the past sometimes and see how some parts of life have simply dissolved into nothingness. And even though this poem might sound sad, I believe that being mindful of the transience of life actually helps us to feel all the preciousness and beauty of it.

[sulfur]