bruises, sarah certa

Janaina Medeiros
$LAYYYTER
I'd rather be in outer space đž
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

No title available

No title available

â
DEAR READER
AnasAbdin
No title available
KIROKAZE
occasionally subtle
almost home
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

Origami Around

izzy's playlists!

pixel skylines
Three Goblin Art

ç„æ„ / Permanent Vacation
Keni

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from China

seen from Spain

seen from United States
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Japan
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from TĂŒrkiye

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from Ireland
@sincerely-emily
bruises, sarah certa
when I was younger, I used to think true love was tumultuous and intense. but now, I feel like real love is gentle. passionate in a soft, sweet way. not fireworks and drama, but a love thatâs like coming home, the breeze on a still summer day. a balm to the aches of the world.
this entire blog is simply just a compilation of my soul yearning
11:07 AM
Just thinking.
I thought you should know, the lack of your presence keeps my mind racing. Thoughts of you, yes â but more so today, thoughts of me.
Thoughts of who I am, what I love, innately. These are thoughts that Iâve always had, since I was a little girl. For the longest time, I assumed my identity was still unwritten â that there was still too much to experience, too much to see, too many people to meet, and too much time alone before ultimately knowing who I am, and what I love.
But, sitting here just thinking⊠I believe Iâve always known. As a little girl, I grew up in the safest arms. My mother smothered me with affection. Affirmations of love, feeling valued, understood. Always told I was set out to do great things. There were flaws to my Motherâs love, yes. I grew up with a little voice. Before pieces of my life fell apart, I grew up naive; as if the world was delicate and kind. I donât think I was ever prepared for reality, until reality hit me.
And it was that experience, the experience of warmth, gratitude and overwhelming love; mixed with the harsh cruelness of the world, losing who I saw as my real father, losing the stability of my home, and then losing a friend who had given me comfort throughout all of that â that is what has made me who I am.
Turmoil teaches you. Cruel experiences, teach you. But throughout everything endured, I have and always will be warm, gentle and kind. I will always face adversity with optimism and light. Because that is who I am, innately. I know this life here on earth is so good. So beautiful.
And so, these thoughts have led me to this conclusion â I am open. A soul split right down the middle, and I am vulnerable. I love to love. I love to feel. I love the rawness of others, and allowing flaws to be the one thing that sets a human aside from the next. The flaws, the density, the individuality of a person. Thatâs what I love.
I promised myself I would never live an ordinary life, that throughout everything presented, everything the universe puts right in front of my face â there will be meaning to it. Entrances and exits, all meaningful, all divine. This doesnât mean I expect an extraordinary life â money and luxuries, no. I expect fulfillment. To never settle for anything other than a dense, happy journey. Wherever I am, I want to experience my love for life on top of mountains, in local coffee shops, deep within the pages of a book â in my home, every single night. I expect soul fulfillment and nothing less.
But I never meant to say any of those things Words can sound so cruel when you speak before you think
Oh I was wrong
But you didnât understand that my heart was in your hands You were so blind, blind
you donât have to belong everywhere
Hua Xi, from "Night Drive Through My Own Life"
time is a thief.
When people really love you, theyâll be so gentle and intentional w their words
âShe bathâd with roses red and violets blew,
And all the sweetest flowers that in the forrest grew.â
Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene
Megan Denton Ray, from âA Recovery Guide for Adult Children of Alcoholicsâ
Her soul a garden filled with roses
youâre going to hurt me and iâm going to let you
ainslie hogarth motherthing
kofi