#spilled work

[sleeplessv0id]

being snuggly and cuddly at heart 🤝 having a crippling fear of being a bother.

[fullofreveries]

Yes, yes, an experience and miley’s songs on repeat!

[fedupwithyou]

Once the dust settles

and regret

starts seeping in

an eerie realisation

takes root

in your heart;

the love

you once held

will never

find its way

back to you.

[jaundice-collector]

“Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal.”

Quote by

—Albert Camus

[404brain-notfound]

What am I,if not grief?

[404daydreams]

How To Learn

So what does it take to learn something? First, you have to get it, then make sure you don’t forget it. It’s not about pushing facts into your head. Based on the latest research in cognitive science, neurobiology, and educational psychology, learning takes a lot more than text on a page. We know what turns your brain on.

Some of the Head First learning principles:

Make it visual. Images are far more memorable than words alone, and make learning much more effective (up to 89% improvement in recall and transfer studies). It also makes things more understandable. Put the words within or near the graphics they relate to, rather than on the bottom or on another page, and learners will be up to twice as likely to solve problems related to the content. Use a conversational and personalized style. In recent studies, students performed up to 40% better on post-learning tests if the content spoke directly to the reader, using a first-person, conversational style rather than taking a formal tone. Tell stories instead of lecturing. Use casual language. Don’t take yourself too seriously. Which would you pay more attention to: a stimulating dinner-party companion, or a lecture? Get the learner to think more deeply. In other words, unless you actively flex your neurons, nothing much happens in your head. Areader has to be motivated, engaged, curious, and inspired to solve problems, draw conclusions, and generate new knowledge. And for that, you need challenges, exercises, and thought-provoking questions, and activities that involve both sides of the brain and multiple senses.

Get—and keep—the reader’s attention. We’ve all had the “I really want to learn this, but I can’t stay awake past page one” experience.

Your brain pays attention to things that are out of the ordinary,

interesting, strange, eye-catching, unexpected. Learning a new, tough,

-Me.

[gsnoveladventures]

From the outside we all look incomplete to one another. But when we're ruminating to ourselves in quiet, there's a sense of assuredness that keeps one going for another day. I'm here. I'm living, whether it be fortunately or otherwise. It must mean something right? I'm still trying to figure it out. One small comfort one can find is that regardless of how you feel about the situation, our mere physical presence takes up space. And for now, I'll have to work on finding that worthy.

[prayingmantiiis]

---𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚⋆.࿔*୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ written work on inward cruelty --a lyric essay, diary entry, fuzzy thought⋆˚࿔.☘︎ ݁˖

I am a writer.

I called myself that, because all you need to be a writer is to grab your words and hand and exert them into the universe.

I write poorly, and slowly, and passionately, and swiftly, and precisely—all in an indistinguishable blur.

I write about sadness: I write only when those cold summer nights come, when I am lonely, and my ceiling plays a projection of memories of my father and mother, and the girls by my side that change age by age, and a boy whose face I find hard to forget and whose soul I find hard to distinguish.

My head is filled with words only when there is nothing left to fill it with—when everything else feels so empty I feel the need to clutter it.

Writing is something I’m passionate about. It’s something that wakes me up from a particular stillness and numbness, something that gives me purpose and I feel proud reading.

The object of my words–my passion–is my utter despair. The bluest, coldest nights and thoughts are the ones I feel the need to document in such words that give solely, only, me the most vivid understanding and memories of them. I feel the need to turn my misery into poetry, to romanticize even these parts of me. 

I want to understand them. I want to run them over and over again in some sick, nostalgic play to find some way to make it all make sense and some way to smooth the scars over and wash them away. 

I want to write. I want to find words in moments and expressions and movements, I want everything to make sense to me, to find the exact stanzas that will color everything in.

 I want to find words in nothings.

⊹˚.ೃ࿔ by prayingmantiiis ⋆.࿔*⁺