stuff in my brain

| 20 | she/her | reblogs & other chaos 💫 main: stardancingchild.tumblr.com

[stardancing-reblogs]

Sometimes I feel all my problems will solve if i could just communicate like Celine and Jesse...

Only if i had a Jesse to my Celine...

[reaching-verity]

"and there was no room for her

in homes so hollow,

she only breathed her sighs

in the cornered crowds"

[reaching-verity]

The Mosaic Floor- Ralph Heimans, 1995

Lies lies lies I lied but you'll never know I still have your pictures Tucked under my pillow

I still can't see a man Without picturing you Those dead eyes, Pink lips, Rough hands, How they moved.

Lies lies lies I lied but it'll never show I still play your voicenotes On days when I feel low

I still don't want affection From anybody but you Those soft words, Red hearts Missed calls On wary afternoons

Lies lies lies I lied with a choking throat I still wonder about that poem I wrote, on that silly little note

I still can't come to hate you Though I'm left here all alone With these exhausted eyes, A Twisted tongue, A Heavy heart, And strangers I call my own.

[luminote]

Again.

[shamanfox]

i whisper to the moonlight

like it’s the only thing that won’t interrupt me

won’t fix me

won’t hand me a solution wrapped in polite silence

just listens

and i spill—

not pretty, not poetic at first—

raw like a nerve with no skin

i talk about the things

i wish i understood

like why love can live in someone

and still never reach their own hands

why people i would bleed for

stand starving in front of a feast

of their own worth

i say their names softly

like they might break

even in the dark

because i’ve seen it—

that quiet unraveling

the kind that doesn’t scream

the kind that smiles at you

and says “i’m fine”

while something holy inside them

is learning how to die quietly

and it eats me—

not all at once

but slow

like grief with teeth

i want to shake them

crack open their chest

hold up their own light and say

look

look what you are

but you can’t force someone

to see themselves

through your eyes

so instead

i come here

to the moon

and i confess my helplessness

my love that has nowhere to land

i tell her

how it feels like drowning on dry ground

watching someone you love

forget they can breathe

and the moon—

she doesn’t answer

she never does

but she holds me anyway

in that pale, indifferent grace

and for a moment

i understand something

that love

is not always saving

sometimes

it is witnessing

sometimes

it is staying soft

in a world that keeps asking you

to harden

sometimes

it is whispering into the dark

hoping

some part of them

hears it

even if

they never say

they do

[presentlydean]

online communities are so strange because people slip away so easily. you can be on here for years, folding people you've never met into the fabric of your daily life, and then they disappear, leaving only ghost posts scattered across tumblr behind. or their blog stays dormant, for weeks, months, years, until you're only still following them because you remember that they love sunflowers or they were kind to you when they didn't have to be or the last thing they posted was sad and raw and you still worry about them sometimes.

and sometimes they come back when you least expect it, years later, even, and there's this sudden rush of relief like there you are, there you are, even though you barely knew each other.

there's a strange kind of love to it. i don't know you and i want to hold your hand across miles and time zones and oceans. i can still see the imprint of you in this community you left. you don't think anyone will notice or care when you're gone, but we notice and we care and we wish you well.

i hope you're all okay out there. i hope the sun is shining on your face and you are breathing deeply. i miss you.

[weltenwellen]

Joy Sullivan, “Want", Instructions for Traveling West

[desigirlbombshell-deactivated20]

Her Gaze

Kajal lines her eyes like dusk descending,

Heavy with heat, heavier with knowing.

She does not look, she claims.

Jewelry at her throat,

Pearls pressed against skin scented with champa.

Her glance is a scripture, he reads, then kneels.

A single look,

And the storm stills.

He forgets his god.

He remembers her.

[stardancing-reblogs]

My god is a woman

[reaching-verity]

Painting by Julian Alden Weir "Portrait of a Woman Sewing", 1893

Give me hope,

Then shatter it.

Scatter my mind,

Tell me to gather it.

Do you hate me,

When I say I love you?

How my nightmares became

Our best memories.....

Darling,

What have you done to me.....

~Reaching Verity

[wolfer-aid]

anglerfish 

[glowcowboy]

gonna take a hot shower and put on a big t shirt and my undies and i’m gonna sit on the floor and color at my coffee table like im 6 years old again and then i’ll feel better

[of-earthandlight]

This works btw

[pennywishpoems]

i'd do it right this time

“you’ll be paralyzed by your attempt”

an utter failure in less words spent

and maybe i deserved the freeze

as punishment for being me

but goddamn family can be so cold

and scars glisten white on wounds so old

and this wine tastes better with each glass

fading out the trauma from my past

i drive on the highway envisioning the end

i’d do it right this time, my second attempt

got a bottle that rattles in my nightstand drawer

a quick escape, gimme 12 pills more

and if i encounter jesus i’ll curse his name

got a bone to pick with the lives he’s claimed

why not mine when i begged so hard

never felt so abandoned; i’m a voice he discards

but i’d leave me too, at the alter, at my worst

i’d give zero shits about my wellbeing and worth

without my existence the world gains peace

i see it now: how simple death can be

a split decision, a burning match

snatching souls to which i was once attached

i’ve lost friends, lost loves, lost hope

and i’ve felt depths only the dead ones know

Pen

[stardancingchild]

[banrionceallach]

You know, that Mythbusters post legitimately changed my life. Before seeing it, I had exponentially more guilt and stress about not being able to sleep, which of course, further exacerbated my inability to sleep.

Now, every time I wake up about three am, knowing I have to get up at 6.45, instead of stressing and panicking about how my day is going to be sleep deprived and miserable, I just tell myself 'Time to activate Mythbusters Protocol' and lie there with my eyes closed safe in the knowledge that I am measurably reducing later feelings of exhaustion.

And when this happens, about 70% of the time the reduction of guilt and stress means I actually do fall back asleep, so all in all instead of getting only three or four hours sleep, I get five to six and a half.

Which y'know, major improvement in health and energy.

[catgirlthecrazy]

On a related note, that post also opened up the world of naps for me. I used to think that napping was mostly pointless for me, because I'm pretty much incapable of falling fully asleep in the middle of the day. But when I redefined naps to include "lying down with my eyes shut for an hour," even if I just spent the whole time brainstorming fanfiction, that was often enough to get me from "exhausted and running on 4 hours of sleep" to energized and refreshed

[dookiedrops]

The post (?) as found on Reddit with bonus explanatory Reddit comment.

[ladykakata]

THIS! THIS IS SUPER IMPORTANT!

[gingersnapwolves]

This is absolutely me. I lie down on my lunch break for 20-30 minutes. Do I sleep? Hell no. But do I feel way better in the afternoon because of it? Absolutely.

[kermitlesbian]

*in a rap battle* i wonder who your mother could have been if she never had you

[kermitlesbian]

[naamahdarling]

I never thought I would live to see a "your mom" joke that doesn't degrade their mom.

[lucidloving]

Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 6: 1955-1966 // Tracy K. Smith, "Don't You Wonder Sometimes?" // Janet Finch, White Oleander // Five—Sleeping At Last

[oneandocey]

Colour palette

I thought I was doing better again,

But my art tips my hand,

One poem like the next,

Each painted with pain,

Monochrome,

How unfair I've been to the other shades,

Neglected wetting my brush on lighter pigments,

There is joy in my days and sunshine in my mind,

What a disservice it is then to talk only of storms.