⋆｡♡˚🎀prettyobsessed🎀✧˚ ༘

hi :)

[prettyobsessed]

i want to be somebody’s first choice

[prettyobsessed]

i’ve never been anyone’s favourite

[prettyobsessed]

my new wig just came :D

[prettyobsessed]

[prettyobsessed]

audiologue, lost in translation. by Ari.

[prettyobsessed]

i’ve seen betrayal take every shape it can. for money. for lust. for validation. for things that never last. people i loved, people i trusted, people who said they’d never hurt me, they all did, in their own quiet ways.

it wasn’t heartbreak that broke me, it was the quiet realisation that love and loyalty don’t always grow in the same soil. some people choose desire over devotion, and when they do, you learn that even the familiar can become foreign overnight. i wasn’t angry. not really. i was just… empty. it’s strange how betrayal doesn’t always explode. sometimes it just seeps in, slow and silent, until trust feels like a foreign language.

it’s not the loss of him, but the loss of her.

someone who used to know all my secrets. and that’s the part that still sits heavy. how easily she forgot the years of laughter, the whispered nights, the kind of trust that only friendship builds slowly, carefully.

.

.

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then you start building walls out of quietness. you start laughing a little less, loving a little slower. you learn how to expect nothing, how to keep pieces of yourself tucked away where no one can reach. maybe that’s why i write.

[prettyobsessed]

honestly you dont write in a way that is very capturing. you talk about deep thoughts but you can't really concretise the emotions very well. hope you find ways to convey your thoughts in words that evoke deeper sense, like "all it took was breath in of a few thousand molecules that scented of you to feel the tip of your forefinger's nail trailing down the side of my ribs." something like that. but you have potential. keep it up if you want to be an actual writer.

hi anon! thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts. writing is deeply subjective, not every piece is meant to evoke the same feeling in everyone.

it’s always been a growing process for me 😆 && i truly appreciate you taking the time to read my work and see the potential in it ♡

[prettyobsessed]

I quote your previous post: "the real beauty of a person is in his/her heart." I think you have a beautiful heart and spirit. Don't give up on your dreams.

this genuinely means a lot, thank you anon ♡ it’s nice to be reminded that kindness still exists out there

[prettyobsessed]

ur so pretty

careful there i might start blushing 😳 BABAHHAHAH thankkk u sm anon

[man3eater]

Blessed with beauty and rage ♡

[prettyobsessed]

Hello i noticed your blog from dissociative dolls and i love it!!!! U def need to be discovered more i literally love ur covers girlie ♡♡♡♡ moot me up?♡

awwww hi girlie!!💖 thank you sm that’s so sweet of you 🥹and yes ofc let’s be moots heheh lavvvv u ♡

[prettyobsessed]

maybe in another life, things would be softer. maybe in another life, i’d wake up to the sound of laughter instead of silence. the kind that fills the kitchen when love still lives there. maybe in that life, i’d have a family who protects, not wounds. a home that doesn’t crumble under the weight of unspoken things.

in that version of me, my step mother would choose love over greed, presence over pride, warmth over the cold comfort of money. she’d look at me not as an obligation, but as her own.

not as a reminder of the man she resents, nor as a means to what she wants. and maybe, just maybe, i’d let her hold me without fear that her affection comes with a price.

my dad would still be alive there, alive in the way that matters. laughing, humming, teasing me for staying up too late again. he’d be happy, not because he’s escaped death, but because he’s found peace. because he sees me becoming everything he ever hoped i’d be.

maybe in another life, i wouldn’t have to keep convincing myself that pain builds character.

maybe i wouldn’t have to be both the wound and the healer. maybe i’d simply exist. loved, protected, chosen. but this is the life i have now. and maybe this one, too, is trying to love me back in ways i just haven’t learned to see yet.

[prettyobsessed]

to all the girlies: stay pretty stay educated wear what you want prioritize yourself be successful 🌸✨💖

[prettyobsessed]

and in that moment, i’m wrenched out of the dream. tossed into the harsh glare of reality, where everything soft turns sharp again.

it hits like a cruel rewind: the finish line in sight, only to be told to start over. i stand there, dazed, holding fragments of something that was never real to begin with.

to fall in love with an impossibility is to love a mirage, to keep reaching, knowing your hands will always come back empty. it’s a beautiful kind of ruin, the kind that leaves you breathless, staring at what could never be, and still… wanting it all the same.

[prettyobsessed]

these are my feelings. my emotions. my thoughts. raw and unfiltered. i’m not writing for anyone else; this isn’t about being understood or forgiven. it’s about letting the weight of everything spill out, just to see it for what it is. maybe if i give these feelings a place to exist outside of me, they’ll stop haunting the corners of my mind. maybe then i can breathe a little easier, move on a little faster, and finally have it all out of my system.

writing is one of the best forms of therapy, so i am trying.

[prettyobsessed]

such a romantic notion. toiling at one's desk. the sweat pouring as ideas and words, sentences and paragraphs, characters and plots develop. one’s great novel. a life's work.

i have to admit i’m drawn like a magnet to the written word and photographs and to the notion of putting together a readable and plausible piece of work that many could enjoy.

i’ve played with ideas and genres. written a squillion thoughts and pouring my emotions out onto a piece of paper. written chapters, travel stories, poems, short stories and little snippets of longer ones.

but I guess it comes down ultimately to motivation. just like I have succeeded in a few other areas by pulling my finger out and working so damn fucking hard that at times I felt like my eyeballs were going to pop out.

find time and just damn well do it. same goes for writing.

[prettyobsessed]

i miss u, dad. some days it still doesn’t feel real. the way you’re just gone. i keep thinking about all the things i nvr got to tell you, all the moments i thought we still had time for. u left too soon and i wasn’t ready. i don’t think i ever would’ve been. sometimes i still look for u in small things. a song, a smell, a familiar silence. i hope, wherever u are, you know i’m trying. and that i love u. always have, always will.

i love you.