#rawtruth

[thegospelofdesire]

I Choose to Live Beneath the Surface

I do not live on the surface. I reject it.

Small talk suffocates me. Shallow connection insults me. I would rather walk alone than pretend something hollow is enough.

I don’t skim life I descend into it. I press until it reveals something real… or breaks.

[erinhaiz]

“The Search Bar Knew Before I Did”

(TW: Abuse)

I asked the internet

if it was normal

for a man to slam you

into drywall

for keeping your phone.

They said:

Did you provoke him?

Was he just angry?

Are you sure you’re not overreacting?

I asked if a threat

still counts

when he doesn’t follow through.

I asked

if packing a bag “just in case”

was dramatic,

if fear without bruises

was still fear.

I asked questions

like I was shopping

for permission

to feel unsafe.

I asked strangers

because I couldn’t ask myself.

Because the voice in my head

had already been replaced

with his.

Because no one taught me

that abuse sometimes wears

a wedding ring,

or that survival often begins

in Google search bars

at 2 a.m.

And no one ever said

that by the time you’re asking,

you already know.

That the question

isn’t really a question—

it’s a grief song,

it’s a whisper:

please tell me I can leave.

please tell me I’m not crazy.

please tell me it counts.

please tell me I still count.

I scrolled,

hands shaking,

screen lit like a confession booth.

And somewhere,

between “he doesn’t mean it”

and

“this isn’t who he really is,”

I realized:

The search bar

knew before I did.

If you find yourself here—

reading between the lines

of a silent scream—

know this:

You are not alone.

Your fear is real.

Your courage is already in motion.

And even when the night feels endless,

there is a dawn waiting to hold you.

[tmarshconnors]

Thoughts from an Only Child at 3:30AM

Not every blog I write is about politics, tech, or society. Sometimes, it's just raw emotion. Just me sat here in the garden, 3:30am in the morning. Cool air brushing past me like a ghost of something long gone. I think. I reflect. And sometimes, I write.

Being an only child teaches you a few things. And not in the fairy tale way people imagine spoiled, pampered, coddled. No, it teaches you how to survive silently. It shows you what it means to be independent out of necessity, not out of choice.

When you grow up without siblings, you learn early on: you’ve got no backup. No brother to step in when someone’s giving you hell. No sister to confide in when your heart breaks at 17. You are your own team, your own lifeline. And that reality hardens you in places most people never even realise.

You notice things others overlook. Every smirk someone throws your way. Every twitch of discomfort. Every shoulder shrug, foot shuffle, eye roll  it's all data. You become fluent in body language, because when you’re alone, you have to read the room like your life depends on it. That’s how you know if someone’s real… or if they’re just wearing a mask.

You learn to make every moment count because you don't get the luxury of a “next time.” That friend you talk to might vanish tomorrow. That one phone call could be the last. So you pour yourself into it, into them. Because part of you knows it could all go silent again.

I’ve had many of those late, late nights. Trust me. Too many. Like right now. Just me, my thoughts, and a quiet world that doesn’t know or care that I’m still awake. No texts. No footsteps coming down the stairs. No laughter echoing from another bedroom. Just me.

Was there a time I wished I had siblings? Yeah, there was. Especially growing up. When I saw kids arguing and then hugging five minutes later, I envied that. When I saw brothers sticking up for each other, or sisters planning sleepovers together, I felt that ache. That little voice in my chest whispering, Why not me?

But now? No. I’m happy with the silence. It’s made me who I am. It’s not a life for everyone. But it’s mine. It’s lonely sometimes, sure. But it’s taught me resilience, empathy, observation, and above all self-reliance. You learn to handle yourself. Because, quite frankly, you have no other choice.

So this blog isn’t just a post. It’s a piece of my heart. A rare one. Not polished or political. Just honest. If you’re reading this and you’ve ever felt alone  really alone  know that I get it. And know that being alone doesn’t mean being lost. It means being tested. Sharpened. Seasoned.

And if you're out there tonight, wide awake like me, staring into the dark... you're not the only one.

Mr. TMarsh-Connors

[a-beautiful-queen]

Overwhelmed

I wanna scream but it doesn’t feel appropriate My body screams for me Screams from the rooftop Suppressed emotions rise Pain in joints Rustic They feel torn and bettered Everyday I hope for a better day tomorrow one where I’m at ease where I don’t feel like a machine that is out of wack

It’s strange simultaneously feeling both old and young. I wish for change I wish for ultimate relief and not experiencing…

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[goodbearblind]

“Macchina da latte: ingravidata, separata dai suoi figli, sfruttata e, infine, macellata.” (LIBERACTION) Fonte: https://www.facebook.com/LIBERACTION/photos/a.347380135378215/1564956296953920/?type=3 . . #notyourmomnotyourmilk #liberaction #rawtruth https://www.instagram.com/p/B8WDjI1CIAw/?igshid=1ccbwu70pqfsa

[the-soul-writer]

Night talks

Nowadays lust is mistook for love, 

It is a 3 month joy ride , rather than a forever

the promises made so shallow , not even lasting a day ....

[nexcopc]

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[weirdrandomunique-blog]