#literary confessions

[theotherendcomics]

[thedeathofevolution]

THEY CALL IT, "MINE." my last week or two?*

i really wonder if anybody feels this much of thought in their daily lives. i know you do. if not, you wouldn’t be here.

it is the regulation of these thoughts that human mind and body can do in order to help the soul. but if your body is eating you alive, how can you regulate? you are on the survival.

even i can say: justifying the solitude by the mask of survival. it is actually trying to survive in this system of mine, or this earth.

but it feels heavy to breathe. most of the time i feel like i do not breathe the oxygen.

i forgot it as i skip my meals. not intentionally. just forgetting. not feeling that i’m hungry. or even if i feel, i don’t do anything. just too much.

but i would cook for you. i would like to feed my beloved ones and share with them. even cook with them.

but i don’t follow this ritual that much, just with myself. with breathing. or anyone else.

that has been some time for that as well. each time i remember this, my body aches. i mean it always aches.

while sitting. while laying down on my bed. while walking. it feels like a corpse bride walking.

but me. me with my own issues. as we all have those issues. i believe.

why is it hard to hold someone to love?

i kept remembering this memory of mine these last couple of days. one time i broke down so hard. 26 years old. rejected a visa to study.

i went to my mom. i asked her to hold me while i was shattering in pieces, crying my whole existence out. she held me. a minute or two. maybe three. god knows. not that long.

then she told me she needed to clean. the whatever-there-is around the home i have been living in for 4 years, 5 months. long, huh? still doesn’t feel like home.

maybe for the last 2 weeks, i lost count, i have been feeling very depressed and fatigued. the smallest tasks feel very hard to accomplish. some days i never got out of bed.

i am writing these lines with freshly polished nails. a useless info dump, i know.

my body felt like carrying weight. back, neck, legs. some arm cramps too.

alive in the sense of being alive, but my body was eating me alive. inside and out.

i have to break this cycle. i need to. i want to.

and yes, i was severely fatigued. but i still cleaned my whole goddamn kitchen. i cooked some stuff even.

these small dishes, using the kitchen more regularly, made me feel a bit happier. maybe even filled with natural dopamine. if u see this sayhifromanywheresoul.u. .born in the late 20th century. living, and definitely dying in the 21st. can i live that long?

can the internet make me live until the 22nd century? and can i be reborn then?

what would the future look like in 2199? could the literatures of the future be true? are they manifestations? another topic for me to research deeply.

[melodixmayhem-blog]

Reader's confession:

I'm having problems starting Hollow City by Ransom Riggs because I feel like the mystery of the children are solved...and I don't care much for a purely adventure novel...I also don't want to see these characters damaged more than they are.

[vannie429]

Literary confessions: I read Great Expectations in the 5th grade and pictured Hey Arnold as Pip, Helga as Estella, Harold as Bentley and pretty much just pictured the entire cast of Hey Arnold

[vannie429]

When I was in the 6th grade I read The Jungle Book for the 1st time but I didn't know that "lame" was another word for "crippled" so throughout the whole book when they call Shere Khan "lame", I thought they were just calling him a dork

[glaivemaiden]

I'm an adverb abuser.

[doctorkatson]

Literary Confession: There are times that I want to go back to reading that one book, just because of how it made you feel.

But I'm afraid to read it again because it won't be the same, the magic won't take me over the same way it did before.