#unfiltered truth

[kikiscryforhelp]

advice no one asked for:

if someone makes you feel confused, drained, or anxious all the time

that’s not a connection.

that’s your gut begging you to leave.

love shouldn’t feel like checking your phone every 5 minutes,

wondering if you said too much.

[rn39mil33zztta]

true, unfiltered art.

[untamedeve]

Untamed Eve

I'm done with the social media grind. I’m done with chasing numbers. I’m done with pleasing the algorithm.

I just want to write. I just want to create. I just want to pay the rent without selling my soul to corporate America.

This is my sacred space. This is my unfiltered, untamed voice. You’re welcome to stay. Or just scroll past.

Not a poem more like an introduction, a declaration, a manifesto of freedom from the soulless hustle and grind of content creation.

[unlesswedont]

A BAD MOOD AND A BETTER POINT

Dear Future Me,

Today’s letter isn’t going to be sweet. It’s not inspiring. It’s not wrapped in gratitude or drenched in silver linings.

It’s a bad mood day.

Not because anything major went wrong. Not because someone hurt me. Just because I woke up and felt done. With people. With noise. With the expectation that I should always be pleasant, always accommodating, always “on.”

I’m irritable. I’m exhausted. I want to be left the fuck alone. Maybe it’s because I don’t feel well. Maybe it’s because I’m tired of being gracious. Maybe it’s because my sacred gluten-free fridge corner—the tiny sliver of space I carved out so I wouldn’t get sick—has slowly been taken over. Again. It lasted a week. One week of people respecting it before they started pushing in. And maybe that fridge corner feels like a stupid thing to be mad about, but it’s not just the fridge. It’s the metaphor of my fucking life.

My whole existence has been about taking up less space. Making myself small so others can stretch out and sprawl. And I am so goddamn tired of fighting for my little corner. I deserve more. I deserve space. And I shouldn’t have to beg for it. I shouldn’t have to fight for it.

This isn’t just about refrigerator shelves. This is about the space to exist.

And I’m realizing now—I’ve never really had it. I’ve always been crammed into a role, a version, a mold. I’m realizing how many people have never truly seen me. How often I say “sorry” just for existing:

Sorry for trying to have a fun conversation.

Sorry for wanting to eat something safe.

Sorry for needing help.

Sorry for being sick in a place meant to help sick people.

Sorry, sorry, sorry.

Today, I’m angry. And I am letting myself be angry. I’m not going to sugarcoat it or shrink it down or bury it under forced perspective.

Today, I need space to be angry… And I’m fucking taking it.

From the one who asked for a corner not a coffin,

—Me

[chambersevidence]

Reference to removal of documents indicating their legal removal and former presence, so their absence is not relied upon as unfiltered, original truth.

[kencanphotos]

Unfiltered truth !