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i do random stuff here hi

[thoughtkick]

“To have someone understand your mind is a different kind of intimacy.”

— Unknown

[poorpotatopoetess]

I believe in this kind of love. I don't understand where opposites attract came from. I almost always feel attracted to people who might understand my interests and mind and soul.

[poorpotatopoetess]

Nostalgia but it hurts a little

You know when you go to an old place which you belonged to? Where everything is blithely familiar, and something is different. It's like you're looking at a painting you created from inside someone else. And that someone else is you. A different you.

I went to visit my old apartment. Met my old friends after years. They kept looking at me, my face, the way I talked and moved. At first, I was flattered into thinking I was an enigma. When I came home I realized I was a stranger in a crowd they knew.

They were searching. All that they said about me growing up and changing...they were searching my face for places they recognized, for the person they knew and loved once. And I, them. They loved me still, I could see it in their eyes. They loved me the way you love another version of your old favorite single, that beloved bike you lost. They love me for all the memories I stir up, that have aged like wine, and I, them. I love them for the girl I suffocated. The girl who was blind to all the love she spread. The girl who could not kill her insecurities for the fear of doubting someone else.

[ritikajyala]

I lost my best friend 3 years ago- not lost as in dead but lost as in we only text each other on our birthdays now. Movies and books don't tell you that a friendship dying is like the sinking of a ship, you try to get higher and higher and hold onto the rails and unanswered texts, the captain tries to steer it to safety and salvage pieces of two broken hearts until you're left with memories of what once was. We were friends for a decade and knew each other's diaries by heart, I still remember her phone number and the way she took her coffee. Seeing her in streets is like breathing in a scent you forgot you knew but it immediately takes you back to a summer in '07.

Movies and books also don't tell you that friendships don't just end after one fight or incident, it's like the rusting of a bridge, the slow decay of flesh and bones and secrets. It took weeks, months- until one day I woke up and I realized I hadn't thought of her in a while. And I wrote a poem that day and I titled it 'The dying of a best friend' and I put all my love for her in a tiny box with my half of the matching pendant of a dolphin we had and stored them in a corner of my heart under the heading Grief. Where else can one hide unspent love?

It's been 3 years since I lost my best friend, lost as in I still carry our secrets in a tiny box but we only text each other on our birthdays.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire

[poorpotatopoetess]

This. Breakups are bad yes, but no one talks about how the painful silences stretch like the strings of your heart until they die. How hard it is to let go of someone who is associated with so many good memories.

[poorpotatopoetess]

You won't fix him, he'll break you.

Something my amazing friend told when on a rant session about the toxic trope of young girls liking and ‘fixing’ controlling boyfriends and how it affects both guys and girls negatively and I was like ‘woah lemme write that down.’

[poorpotatopoetess]

The day i watched myself die

(Here is just a little something Wuthering Heights inspired)

Oh how beautiful she looks in fever’s throw

With her cheeks so flush and her eyes aglow

There’s her moon’s sliver of her smile

She’s been dreaming of paradise for a while

The clock strikes seven and there she goes

Into sure paradise, where I cannot follow.

[poorpotatopoetess]

not to be overdramatic but can i swoon and fall onto the floor sobbing hysterically because existing is some taxing shit

[poorpotatopoetess]

Villainy somewhere! whose? One says, we are villains all.

Maud, Alfred, Lord Tennyson