Money and justice could break any human bond apart like a dissected organ in autopsy where you would know the cause but it would be too late
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@sliverofglimmer
Money and justice could break any human bond apart like a dissected organ in autopsy where you would know the cause but it would be too late
Every single time I let my guard down and trust someone, they remind me why I shouldn't have. Every exception is just a deception in waiting. You call people your friends and they want you to prove their trust in the face of every negativity a human could possibly throw at you. Hence, all the fear of perception, all the trauma of being known, all the feelings or anxiety. Time and time again, I realise how good I am on my own because at least I don't disappoint myself that hard. Every human is just a trap waiting for me to fall into them so that they can remove themselves from under me leaving me stranded in a place I know no escape from. I know I shouldn't be so negative but I feel like fake positivity would not help me either.
I cannot be with someone with whom my eyes cannot have a conversation. I can purse my lips close and still show my thoughts to someone who knows how to read and without that, I'd always be a language that someone just didn't want to understand. I think about the kind of person who will love me totally, completely, reverently and the world shuts me down saying that it is impossible to find someone who loves like that. I look at myself in the mirror and smile because the world doesn't know something that I know when I look at myself, the yearner for souls. The non-pursuance of depth is a defense mechanism imposed on a non-confident self. But then what belief ever moved another person to your mountain? I think if people stopped being shallow to fit in, people would start bringing their true selves to beat the same. Imagine if the people still thought that the contest was showing your most sincere self and not nonchalance? I think fake dating is the best trope in romance because here is where temporary commitment precedes real romance. This is exactly how it should be, except that it isn't and the people feel like even getting to know someone exclusively is a waste of their "yolo life". I wonder how multiple shallow conversations or immediate trauma bonds can lead to healthy long-lasting relationships. These people who want to trade bodies in exchange for the soul are not even doing it right. I sometimes wonder if players even want to return to a peaceful home. A girl or two, or three or four, the pile will go on till their face and charm lasts. Wouldn't they want someone who is a constant, who knows their past, present and future plans? Someone with whom you can continue where you left off and not having to repeat the anecdotes to different people over and over, only for them to forget when the sun comes up. Goodbye, that was just how much you are worth. Every bit of performance is just sabotage. I wish I could scream all this into some people's soul.
To whomsoever it concerns: if you let the person who deliberately hurt you back into your life, you are definitely punishing yourself in the future
I wanna talk about something but not sure if I wanna talk about something
I genuinely do not understand how people don't take the early symptoms of a mental health disorder seriously....like a headache would cause people to take aspirin but they would not take an antipsychotic till the person is unable to even trust treatment. As someone who has seen the progression of such disorders I cannot help but feel alarmed because of how quick the consequences can spread sometimes. I really wish people cared about mental health like they care about other disorders.
I am getting bored at pre-match talks....should I just read a substack article and let everyone know how big of a nerd I am?
Sitting at a screening for a sport you don't even watch and not interacting with anyone is another level of craziness that I have achieved.
I love talking to people who understand word play, like "nail the exam" or "nail the people in the exam" and "paint the nails in the exams".
If they ask me one question, I answer ten because I am excited for my voice to be heard. I am excited to see someone wanting to hear my thoughts on something. Like I am starved of recognition in a world that promises it for the wrong things. Can you look into my eyes and ask me why I prefer crepuscular rays over rainy days?
Level 1: Asylums are scary because there's crazy people there.
Level 2: We shouldn't treat mental health facilities as objects of horror because it stigmatises mental illness.
Level 3: Asylums are scary because there's psychiatrists there.
I am at level 2 now as an intern at a mental hospital
I cannot help but think how much I look forward to this one dating show because some people are actually focusing on just one person. Once they get clear with who they want, the actions are so lovely, so envious, so beautiful. I want to be in such love at least once, the innocent kind where you are looking forward to everything that the person says or does. I feel this sliver of hope in humanity when I see someone being loyal and faithful. Like it is not given at all. Like I was expecting someone to fumble up.
I am too anxious to draw in love, that must be why I push it away. Every little bit of intimacy, the gaze, the knowing, the wordless caring, I wish someone just did it for me. Am I that difficult to love? I guess I am not loving myself enough to discipline my life. I guess I am expecting too much. That must be it. In this and a hundred other ways, I just express my unhappiness but even god is done with my prayers so he doesn't even entertain them any longer.
I wish someone would show me that I am worthy of love. I wish I would believe them.
How do you deal with the feeling of living with the things you picked up from people you no longer love? Like the stress on how they say certain words or their facial expressions and gestures through it all. The way you pick up habits you didn't even like in them at first, the ones you got used to and started to like as a by-product of liking them.
Sometimes I hate myself for having loved the wrong person so much, sometimes I hate them for making me hate the person I loved so much.
How can you love people and fear people at the same time. Apparently, you can if you are dependant-avoidant, you want to be next to people yet you fear that they will hurt you so you keep your distance lest you get hurt later . When I found out I was this person, I realised that the reason I keep some people away and some not lies specifically in the idea that people who make you anxious are not worth being with. The minutes I spend staring at the texts of people I care about while making every single possibility of why they were unable to respond. I look at little signs of rejection and get as far away from people as possible. Apparently, days and nights are all equal and my questions keep piling up. There is this huge weighted butterfly on my chest that keeps fluttering, every move of its wings felt by me in waves, heavy enough to stop functioning of every other organ in my body. It directs all my focus at my chest, slowly letting me have my breath back like it is a chore that I am tired of doing. So I desensitise, once, then twice, thrice and four times till I am able to see them and have the butterfly stay still, as if in alarm, afraid that its move will be tracked by them too. Another fear of embarrassment and shame. The trained butterfly gets used to them and I forget about its presence until something mildly inconvenient happens and that butterfly lets go of every inhibition to deal with it. Back to ground zero. But I will live, I will survive by being away from anything that makes the butterfly shudder. I will survive, I thought but I don't want to. I want someone to be friends with the butterfly, to get it on the tips of their fingers like meeting the oldest friend, the one it will recognise and not be afraid of. That is how I'll know I have fallen for the right person. The one who will lift me up and levitate me.
It sinks in my soul, the silent retreats, the ignorance of advances and action of moving ahead. I wonder where I started to go wrong. Was it when I refused to wait for everyone because I had to get home and cook to eat unlike them who had food served on their platter. Or when I spoke my mind a little too loud to get in the wrong ears. I think I am just unlovable. The way I cannot keep up with anyone so I am my only side. I think I have started to sleep a lot more, is it loneliness or is there something wrong inside my bones?
I keep realising that I will soon have nobody by my side, a result of my own infliction upon myself. Their gazes seem to sweep over me and their eyes lock with those who hate me just the same. I wonder if they talk behind my backs. I think I have done it a few times too. I think I am being punished so I should stop everything. Retreat into the tiny cocoon where only my books and I exist. Will I appear boring? I am not interesting to them in anyway.
Will I end up lonely? I never had anyone anyways. I barely know how to show love, maybe I bombard people with information if I begin to trust them. Maybe I just exist in the wrong way. All I know is that it will be all worth nothing if I could just exist that way. Silent. Sombre. In my own head.
The more you understand the prevalence of patriarchy, the more you want to hate the people it supports
True story
This is the only way I receive love letters.