~Thought Kosmos~

Writings, poems, stories, rants and all that good stuff :) A Greek boi that writes mostly in English (and sometimes Greek)

[solmeister13]

Mellon Collie: "These are my famous last words" ΚΑΙ ΛΕΣ ΚΥΡΙΟΛΕΚΤΙΚΆ ΤΑ ΤΕΛΕΥΤΑΊΑ ΛΟΓΙΑ ΤΟΥ ΔΙΣΚΟΥ ΣΤΟ ΔΕΥΤΕΡΟ ΚΟΜΜΑΤΙ 🤯

ΤΟΣΟ ΓΡΗΓΟΡΑ ΤΑ ΠΙΑΝΕΤΕ ΓΑΜΩ

[thoughtkosmos]

Το οτι το solmeister is dead ειναι το πρωτο αλμπουμ χωρις 13 κομματια, επειδη ο παλιος solmeister πεθανε, αλλα παραλληλα εχει το 13 στον ιδιο τον τιτλο ("o solmeister δε πεθανε ακομη") να μη το αναφέρουμε?

(Άλλα που δεν εχω ιδεα αν ισχυουν ή απλα το κανω overthink, το ακρώνυμο s1d3 εχει τα αρχικά του suicide disco, ενω τη πρωτη φορα που ακουσα το Nancy, στο στιχο για τον Sid Vicious" σκεφτηκα Solmeister Is Dead, SID

[thoughtkosmos]

Generous Egoist

Helping someone with their frustrations is a momentary relief from your own thoughts

During the mental war time, assistance to another combat zone seems like a truce in your inner battlefield

And you end up helping yourself by caring more about others than you

That's how giving help is an egotistical move

[thoughtkosmos]

≈Dividers of Time≈

≈≈≈

The saltiness on my lips is now a permanent taste. I’ve been on this beach for way more than I should but I can’t bring myself to finally leave.

My face is tired of fighting this scorching sun.

The heat of the outside world makes me wanna stay submerged underseas, even if my breath doesn't last long.                                                            The closer I get to the water, the closer I feel to home.

My beautiful seashells and sandcastles, a small paradise inside my heart.

This beach is comfortable enough for me to stay forever. I ignore my burns, I ignore the tide rising higher by every single second.

I ignore the consequences.

He made sure to inform me, burn the fear in my brain, rush me to make every decision, force me to follow him and not stay behind. I've worked so hard to find my shells and build my castles, but he would never understand.

How the hell am I supposed to just… just leave them behind?

He has a twisted way of messing with me, mocking me every step of the way, laughing at my face for trying so hard to keep up, but always failing.

I can't follow his pace. I keep getting distracted along the way, causing me more pain, burning my vulnerable skin more and more.

But I shouldn't lose track of him, he knows the right way, he knows the right path. And certainly staring back at the sea isn't the right direction on this uphill.

My precious possessions are getting submerged under the tide, one by one.

I can't collect them all and carry them with me, it’s too much of a burden. They’re too heavy to hold and I’m on my own, everyone is moving forward and I'm on my own trying to hold onto them. But I know that if I don’t let them down on this very sand, to be dragged by the sea, i'll be drowning too.

Despite my actions showing the opposite, drowning is not my intent.

I guess I can't have everything I want, and that leaves an even more bitter taste in my mouth.

I have to choose between the past and the present, the shore and the sand, drowning in what I admire or moving into the unknown.

He keeps reminding me of what I'm so not gracefully avoiding.

I have to get going on this beach of life or i'll end up a shell of myself too, dragged into the ocean of history, just like the relics of my past.

I can't take it anymore.

The riptide's constant rising is pressuring me to move on, and the responsibilities burning above my head are making my walk too difficult to handle.

Only one will survive for longer; either me or my memories. I either move or join the shells of the people who are no longer in my life and the sandcastles I once called home. I can feel myself being pulled inside...

A few drops of the past's water could be refreshing, but the more you sip on it, the thirstier you become. At the end, you never know what kind of oasis awaits you ahead.

Life is about enjoying the stroll by your past's beach, while being refreshed by it's droplets.

Just don't neglect to take a breath for yourself every time you dive back.

≈≈≈

A collaboration between me, @not-hard-to-love and @theangryshayar for #Fwriteday

This week's prompt was: Ocean and Nostalgia

:)

[solmeister13]

Music is just a bunch of people saying “great idea, here’s my take on it.”

I actually dreamt this quote.

[thoughtkosmos]

~"If a plate breaks in a room where no one hears it, does it really make sound?"~

A collaboration with @theangryshayar and @not-hard-to-love

[solmeister13]

Ο στίχος με τον Χριστό στη βάρκα με άφησε κυριολεκτικά με το στόμα ανοιχτό. Πραγματικά ένιωσα υπερηφάνεια που μια τόσο ριψοκίνδυνη και έντονη ατάκα αποτυπώθηκε σε κομμάτι και ακούγεται Είναι πραγματικά ντροπή που εγώ 17 χρόνων παιδί μπορώ να μιλήσω με μουσουλμάνους, χριστιανούς, άθεους, μάρτυρες του Ιεχωβά για θρησκευτικά ζητήματα χωρίς πρόβλημα και οι "εκπρόσωποι" και οι "μεγαλύτεροι" φέρονται τοσο ανώριμα, και αυτή η ατάκα αντικατοπτρίζει τόσο καλά την υποκρισία αυτή Συγχαρητήρια και ευχαριστώ

ΝΑΙ ΡΕ ΓΑΜΩ!

Το ένιωσες απόλυτα <3

[thoughtkosmos]

Η φάση που ο σολ απαντάει στο ask σου και το συνειδητοποιείς κάνα μήνα μετά

[thoughtkosmos]

~ Writers Wage War: ~

| Fwriteday |

~•~

Hello everyone!!

So we're trying to make a kind of a writing challenge for anyone interested

In this group chat that I'm linking bellow we'll have a new writing prompt/challenge/topic each week

Anyone that wants to participate will create small teams of like 2/3 people and work together for their entry

The way that the teams will work is up to them!

Maybe each member writes a specific part, maybe everyone gives ideas to combine and create the final piece

We'll see how it goes!

As long as you are willing to participate, I'm sure it will be fun😁

This is a Group Chat on Tumblr.

Also if you want you can reblog this or send it to any groupchat or friends of yours or whatever, so that we have more people to participate 😁

[thoughtkosmos]

Fear Of The Time-Bound Purpose

~

~~

One of the greatest fears;

All your effort to survive being shattered All the words you have gathered being pointless

One of the greatest fears thriving in my abyss is the day when I will be unable to say something I wanted to say

Having thought of and carved something inside the body of your mere existence that ends up unused, pointless like you fear your life to be

But you worry more about your words than your life

Your life is just a reason and an opportunity for you to spread your one-of-a-kind way of thinking, your unique message

Your life is just a chance to make your mind noticed and have an impact

This gift called life is not of such worth as the opportunity it gives you

But what if one day you are destined to have all your efforts disabled?

Shattered due to the inability to be acknowledged

What if there comes a day when you have something to say but no one to hear it?

What if you think and overanalyse a phrase, and the ideal receiver of the phrase in question is not there?

Or even worse, what if the receiver doesn't really want to hear it?

What happenes when it doesn't feel right to tell that phrase?

When your standards, the rules ʇɥǝʎ have put, force you to remain silent

Force your phrase to be caged inside your skull

What happens when your efforts, the time you spent thinking are worthless?

Doesn't that make your existence of no use?

Of no purpose, no reason to continue thinking

No reason to create phrases and no reason to have possible receivers

Be open to your receivers, be wholeheartedly honest and don't waste your time

There will come a day when you will no longer be able to share your message

Don't waste your time with arguing, don't waste your time being sad and dramatic, angry or anxious

Your time is so limited and so important, it's not worth it to waste it over so insignificant things

You are given a fair amount of mortal time, which like everything mortal is destined to eventually run out

And you are given an amount of recipients for your message, even if that's a stranger, a sheet of paper, a monochromatic background on a screen to type on, an app to share your message on, a way to pass on your message, a pathway leading your existence to a purpose. And that purpose is portrayed with a simple phrase;

Making an impact...

~

[thoughtkosmos]

Into Thin Air

Into thin air..

Just like my fears each time you needed my strong side

Disappeared just like the days I'm going to miss till I stop remembering

Do you ever miss yourself?

Your old self, your gone thoughts, a deceased world view

Do you ever miss your once lack of experiences that would later change you?

That feeling of freedom, inner freedom

When you could look at the sun and realize that you're living the moments you would surely miss later

And here you are..

I often find myself missing so specific moments

Missing the specific perspective you had sitting in a spot at a specific moment

You don't really miss the moment or the person you were with the most

You miss the little things

The smell, the sounds, that kid that was playing with her friends near you

Those bricks you were looking at for so long cause you feel uncomfortable making eye contact with the person whose eyes you can't stop thinking of when you're away from

That tree next to you; why has it lost it's leaves now?

You miss those yellowish/brownish leaves

Some greener than others, a lot of leaves on the floor

That construction sign that is now gone, perhaps they finished what they were building there

And the leaves have left, and the kid has gone home and perhaps doesn't play with the other kids anymore, maybe she found other friends

That dog that passed by you that day is probably out for a walk somewhere else

But you.. You are still here

Alone this time

But again there, trying to see from the same angle, trying to remember how she was sitting next to you, looking at you (those eyes, gash..)

You smile a bit

You're living it again aren't ya?

No you're not

And you will never

And now that smile is gone..

But why?

Aren't you the one that always said to just keep the positive moments and forget the stuff that hurt you?

And yeah you obviously forgot how awful you felt most of that period, and you forgot all the stuff you wanted to escape from

You did, but now look at you

The positive memories you kept like a treasure are what is keeping you awake, writing about them as if she would ever see them

As if she would even care

Those memories are taking your mind in the evenings, alone in your room fantasizing about unrealistic scenarios that will never happen, and then remembering all of these scenes of your life's romantic drama, painting a mix of smile and tear on your face

But now she disappeared into thin air...

An angel that came to save you, change you, make your fragile frame stronger and then disappear..

And now it seems like she never existed

Did she really exist?

That's a weird feeling, when you can't prove to yourself that you had an experience

She was part of your day for so long, she was a part of you

She was there to replace that emptiness that you despised

But now all you feel is that past emptiness, the only thing you can remember

As if it never stopped..

As if she never existed..

Like thoughts, like spoken feelings

Like sparks of anger in a lake of affection

Into thin air..

[thoughtkosmos]

Lines Left in a Mind's Attic

Just some "leftover" (pretty pessimistic) lines i haven't used in a poem (excuse me if I use them later though, I hope I remember to edit them out 😂)

Enjoy!!

"I" transforming to the middle of "you"

And living takes a different meaning when the sum becomes 2

Some headphones loosening the smiling mask

At last at least released the face the devil kissed

He missed my misty eyes

Words soaked inside denies

Disguising who i really am

I synthesize my requiem

shivering from the coldness

that thrives among the rivers of lava

flowing across hell

yelling in the word-reflecting mirror and wishing you got well....

Soon.

A rope of actions that will tie itself upon me

Seek distractions to avoid my mentality transforming

Kill a fighter

Noose gets tighter

Start to faint unconscious and the weight is feeling lighter

Yet this calm state you will hate

Disregard it just as fake

An illusion of relief in the body of defeat

Though it did indeed succeed to feed your need of feeling freed

Just a hologram of joy

To your thoughts you're still a toy

And you're played around and made a fool of while your smile they will destroy

Suffocate your happiness

With nooses more than days of sun

And I'm hesitant to use one cause you'll find out what I've done

No more reasons.

... so don't call me romantic

Cause sure it's romantic to say

"I'll die for you and I would slay

your enemies", okay I may

make a mistake

but would they take

such pride the day

they see a pray

inside their very coffin?

[thoughtkosmos]

In Need Of Motion

Insipation for this came from looking at random strangers (like a creep)

I mean, you see hundreds of people every day and they see you as a background walker, with no past or purpose, or destination

Just a passer by, as you are in every situation of your life, and even life itself

Every situation that you just have to leave behind and carry on, no matter how important it was to you

Enjoy =)

Figures walking

A blurry background, and everyone is going somewhere

No wondering about the stroll, not questioning, not talking

Figures moving

Looking in the distant place, to where their heart they're carrying

And with their silent hearts in hands their fate they are approving

Or so they seem

Or so you tempt to accept when looking out

Outside from your own field of view you see a hardship drought

How can you move?

How can you adapt and leave your shadow standing?

How do your feet detach from it, how can your mind withstand it?

How can you move so fast, your past denied, you cast a shadow from new light and leave what you once wanted?

How do you change, how do you disregard your crave, how don't you dig your mind a grave with every wish you granted?

It's hard to want, it's hard to feel deprived of your desire

But even harder is to have, to know what it is like to live the life that you inspire, to tie around your chest this fact; to lose you will require

But even harder, far more stiff

Is faith being resistant

It's poisonous to fight and gain, to disregard all of the pain, but have your lure get distant

A lure of smile, a prey of warmth

A lure of everything you ever kept a secret

A chest of memories that haven't yet existed

So clearly though you've pictured it, and never will admit it

You'll never say you spend your nights planning, moments you picture

Portraits of words, never be spoken

Surreal your worlds, you played in roles with masks that you have broken

And walls are built in front of you, all of your thoughts rejected

Forced to stay back, burn every map, black is your mind, infected

Every link to your getaways violently disconnected

How do you walk

when it's all over?

It sucks to want,

it's hard to have,

but losing is just ..

colder.

How do you walk with hearts of rock when cruelty has crashed you?

How to move on, have your past gone, when memories will rust you?

A rusted soul..

A mortal soul, rusted from the lack of deprivation

We don't realize how lucky we are to breath until we fall inside a cold chamber of suffocation

And scream..

We scream for help

We want to move again, get out of here and just keep going but you see.. Acting like you walk on an endless path is degrading it's beauty

And you never realize it untill you look back at it

Look back.. and you hate looking back

Because you see you flaws that led you here, the end of your stroll

You're wondering how wandering would have been, where you less arrogant towards your journey

Your heart of silence still in your hands

Where are you going?

You do not care

You shouldn't

Stop looking on a map and get yourself lost

Find yourself a dead-end just to laugh and climb over it

And carry on

It's hard to carry on on your journey

It's hard to move

But that's what living means

A stationary life is a continuous delay of death

But death is the biggest gift you got in your life

Death is a gift of purpose, a motivation to move forward and not stay in your starting line

Death is the rules you put on a game to make it a game

Cause life without death is just a toy in your hands; you don't really know how to play and you'd get pretty bored after a bit

That's when your limit puts a purpose, makes it a game, and a fascinating one as well

So keep on playing

Keep on moving

And exploit the gifts you were given

Don't be scared of the finish line, be honored to have it as a purpose in your race against the worst parts of you

Keep on playing, and be sure to win on the scoring board of memories

~~~