Disclaimer: This poem is based on my own person experiences. Not everyone is going to resonate with this, for it is contains all my interpretations; from the lessons I’ve learned, the things I’ve realized, to the habits I have cut. I am open to constructive critiscm, even if it's to move a whole stanza elsewhere (with reason of course). If anyone does relate to this, though, let me know. Feel free to guess which gods what is based on, since what verses were inspired by which friends/teachers/family members is something you will be unable to guess.
A moment of resolve
after a meltdown,
A moment of clarity,
after confusion.
Such is what I’ve come to appreciate,
in this finite life.
Hard times will come,
but stillness too.
For light and dark must coexist,
and a balance must be found.
When in shadows,
do not despair,
for calmness will come.
When in light,
do not get blinded.
for it brings knowledge,
but rarely understanding.
Shed light on truth and new ideas,
but take a moment in shadows too,
so you could look inside yourself.
Learn who you are,
know what you stand for,
believe in your morals.
Go against them,
and you shall regret it.
Though, times will come
where a boundary must be crossed,
where a lie must be told.
If it’s necessary,
don’t feel guilt.
See the good in the bad,
and the world through someone else’s eyes.
step into their shoes,
see their perspective.
But remember,
the world doesn’t revolve around you.
for there will come a time
where people are laughing,
should you come to pass by them.
Most of the time,
it won’t have anything to do with you;
So don’t make it so,
don’t think that’s the case.
Kill the cop inside your head,
stop trying to criticize yourself
for everything you do,
for all the mistakes you make.
Misunderstandings will happen,
falls will be taken.
but do not fret,
for you will rise up again.
Know thyself, know thy enemy,
and you will be undefeated.
But, remind yourself,
noone who wanders with a friend is lost.
Though don’t forget…
Set boundaries,
but set them down lightly;
For they may come off too harsh,
if done otherwise,
and may make the other person anxious.
Hesitant so as to not overstep,
worried to hurt you,
and hesitant to be themselves around you.
Do know that not everything is meant to be a personal offense,
so you may have a laugh with your friends.
They may have a laugh at one of your mistakes…
…say, if you stutter…
but they usually won’t mean to hurt you.
Misunderstandings happen,
jokes may occur,
but remain light-hearted through it all.
Should there come a difficult scenario,
should it seem that someone’s made fun of you,
don’t look at them bitterly.
classmates are but members of a group,
not your enemies.
Your classmates aren’t your enemies,
but acquaintances.
collaborate,
and something beautiful shall be made.
Forgive,
but don’t forget.
Work together,
but be considerate.
Split tasks evenly,
just enough so it’s fair.
Hold no bitterness,
or resentment,
for those who’ve done you wrong.
but do remember what they’ve done,
with the knowledge that they may change.
Stay positive,
don’t allow anyone to dim your light,
but know when doubt comes,
that you’ll find reassurance again.
For the pendulum shall swing,
and cycles shall repeat,
from positive,
to negative,
and back again.
You’re shaped by what you consume,
who you hang out with,
so carefully choose your circle of friends.
Let go of what doesn’t serve you,
release whoever isn’t meant to stay,
But be open to change.
For not everything will stay the same,
for the tides of time are shifting.
Refrain from judging a book by its cover,
for nobody is as they seem.
they may surprise you,
so be open-minded.
Make the most of the life you’ve been given,
for it’s limited.
Shift, change,
but don’t lose yourself.
Even if you lose a lot,
know you’ll find what you need.
You’ll wind up where you need to go,
where you need to be.
Don’t let your past slip through your fingers,
for what you’ve learned from your past mistakes
is indeed of importance.
But don’t get stuck in it,
for the past is past.
Be hopeful for the future,
as hope last remained in Pandora’s Box.
If you get out of a difficult time,
call it deus ex machina.
Don’t lose hope,
don’t forget that where you are isn’t,
by any means,
where you’ll always be.
That is what I’ve learned this year,
after a time of darkness.
from gods and friends,
teachers and family.
Symbolism isn’t lost on me.
knowledge remains,
and wisdom is known.
I thank all those who have helped,
all those who helped me get out of the shadows,
and back to the light.
I’ve turned a page,
changed the chapter,
and I shall move on,
with memories in my heart.
---
If you read such a long poem, thank you! <3
I really hope you enjoyed, and I hope this cheered you up, gave you a bit of a compass to move through the rollercoaster that is life. Take care!!
I've never really understood the argument against immortality. everyone says it'll be some horrible thing, but does it have to be? yes you'll outlive people you love, but that'll happen anyway, that's just a consequence of being alive, you will lose people. that doesn't make the time any less important, or the act of living and finding joy any less meaningful
it's important because it happened, it's not reduced to nothing because it's temporary. relationships and people and pets and everything in life is temporary, as transient as the seasons, doesn't make the beauty of spring any less vibrant because it'll eventually turn to winter.
everyone will live it on a mortal scale with pets, childhood friends, short flings, you'll outlive that part of your life and it will be behind you, that doesn't mean it didn't matter, or that it makes any further attempt at love or friendship meaningless
immortality isn't much different from a normal life, really, it just doesn't have the finish line. you'll love, you'll lose, you'll live and love again, whether you live till 80 and a thousand, it's just part of being a person.
// sorry about the essay in your inbox I just have alot of feelings about this
What if someone doesn't want to live forever? What if someone doesn't want to live in a life, outliving their loved ones? What if someone wanted a choice in that matter?
I don't want someone to take that choice away from me, or others.
Maybe if I was offered immortality instead of it being insisted upon me, I would be more comfortable with the idea. Maybe I'd be more comfortable with it if I had a better fucking life.
Tired me doing some thinking under the cut, just need to get some stuff out of my brain and then I'm passing out for twelve hours lmao
Sigh. My grandfather passed away last month, and today we finally got his apartment all cleaned out. There was... So much stuff. So much. Heavy furniture, many many runs to donate stuff and throw stuff out. I'm exhausted so far beyond what I thought possible.
It's not just the physical exhaustion either, it's the mental... Toll, I suppose. I went to help clean the apartment out on Monday, and when I came back I listened to Bad Magic by Weyes Blood and sobbed at my desk. It's a lot to pick through two life's worth of stuff. Grandpa kept literally everything after my grandma passed two years ago.
I'm struggling to find a succinct way to describe it, but like... The art that I make today might not be kept when I die. The precious items that I keep with me through the years might very well get thrown out by people who rightfully have no use/want for them. It's incredibly jarring to sit with that. It's something I'm definitely bringing up to my therapist.
I had work today, seven hours after spending four hours moving heavy things. My body is so tired. My brain doesn't have the capacity to really process anything right now. Maybe tomorrow I'll listen to Bad Magic and cry again, maybe tomorrow I'll just sit with a tea and a blanket and think things through.
The only thing that I've really held on to is that while I still breathe, I'm going to fully enjoy the art that I make.
it follows someone with a terminal illness who travels the world and enjoys the food and art of various cultures, experiencing the beauty of the human experience before he runs out of time.
I'd imagine it to be a deeply personal show. Maybe he visits some lonely grandma, her grandkids don't talk to her, lives alone, and gives her an opportunity to just talk to someone, talk about her life, her story. She could even share her recipies with someone before she dies, so her knowledge isn't lost to time.
There's a cooking segment at the end, where he applies what the lessons he learns about life and food to make some unique dish.
Mortician - A headmate who helps the system cope with death, whether it be fronting during times of grieving or helping comfort during mortality spirals.
Coined for my own system!
Tag List: @mogai-sunflowers, @heart-valentin3, @fagdykefrank, @dreamythism, @cosmilky, @dstriderr, @radiomogai, @pluralterms
Tws: thoughts about mortality, mentions of death, mentions of abandonment
Zane pulls out another roll of bandages. Turning back to face Cole, he can barely muffle a wince at the injuries littered across his torso.
The black ninja had insisted on being the last to receive medical attention, claiming that his injuries weren’t as bad as the others’. But now that the top of his gi is off, it only takes a quick look to confirm that that statement was false.
“It’s not that bad,” he tries, but Zane shakes his head, setting the bandages aside in favor of grabbing the alcohol wipes.
“Perhaps not, but it’s still much worse than you made it out to be.” He looks over the worst wound- a large scrape on his arm from the asphalt he was launched across- and then back at Cole’s face.
“Brace yourself,” he warns, “this is going to hurt.”
Cole grimaces, but nods, hands coming down to grip the edges of the table. “Right.” He breathes out for a moment before closing his eyes and nodding again. “Ready when you are.”
Cleaning out the wound is easy.
Ignoring the pained reactions that it causes isn’t.
Still, he manages, working as efficiently as possible in order to minimize the time Cole spends in pain.
Finally, after what feels like a much longer time frame than it was, he’s able to pull away. “Done,” he states. “I just need to wrap it, now.”
Cole nods, relaxing some as he opens his eyes. “Right. Thanks, Frosty.”
Zane forces a smile in response. “Of course,” he returns, picking up the bandages again. He drops his gaze back to the injury, carefully wrapping it in the gauze.
He hates the way he’s so familiar with the process.
But he’s the team medic, now. Unofficially, yes, but it is still one of his assigned roles. After a large battle, he’s typically the one the least injured.
There are pros to being a nindroid, he supposes.
He finishes wrapping the wound before taking a step back. Scanning over the other injuries, he’s thankful for the fact that the most that any of the wounds would need is a bandaid or two.
“And that’s all. You may go join the others, if you wish.”
Nodding, Cole gets up from the table. “Cool. Thanks again, Zee.”
Just as before, Zane has to put effort into his smile. He adds a nod of acknowledgement, too, and Cole seems to take it as an adequate enough response.
When the earth ninja leaves, he lets the smile drop, a sigh escaping him.
Silently, he starts to put away the medical supplies, taking mental notes on what they may need to restock in the near future.
But his thoughts drift back to the thought of these injuries, and how easily his teammates get them.
They’re human. Fragile, compared to him. They bleed and bruise, their skin tears and their bones break so easily.
And as time goes on, they will only grow more susceptible to these kinds of injuries. They will grow weak as they age.
But… Zane won’t. Titanium doesn’t rip as easily as flesh. Oil doesn’t contain blood vessels to be broken. There are no bones to be damaged.
When his gears and circuits become dated and dysfunction with age, they can simply be replaced. Unlike his teammates, he will not age.
It’s morbid, thinking about it. The fact that while they grow weak and age together, he will not. Lloyd may live longer than the others, due to his heritage, but he, too, is part human, and will eventually become a victim to age.
Perhaps it would have been better for Zane to have avoided making such easily injured friends, ones with such short lifespans. He has Pixal, doesn’t he? Maybe it would be best if he stuck with his own kind.
But he would never be able to bring himself to leave now. For better or worse, he’s attached, he cares for them, and even when they’re long gone, he always will.
And if he were to die, would he even go to where they will? He’s a machine, after all. Is there an afterlife waiting for him? If he were to somehow be destroyed beyond repair, will he see them again? Or is he simply destined to live a long, empty life, with no light at the end of the tunnel?
Honestly, it’s quite ironic. There are so many people who would kill to be immortal- people who have killed just for a chance at it. And yet Zane wants nothing more than to not be.
You always want what you haven’t got.
The saying has never sounded more true.
A low breath escapes him as he turns back to look at where he knows his injured friends are, just a few rooms away. Softly, he shakes his head.
“I don’t want to outlive you,” he murmurs, a dark, churning feeling beginning to settle in his gut.
His family bleeds and hurts. They bend and break. And even as he knows that they’re in pain a few rooms away, bloodied and bandaged, he only has one selfish thought in his head.
