intoxicatedbyus

ramblings of an estranged mind 🌮🧀🍇🌦☃️🌔

[tryingtofit]

you know what sucks about me? the most i mean the utter most is that i like to make my misery seem bigger than it is. because its all i can physically make myself think about. don’t get me wrong when i’m happy i’m terrifying and loud and obnoxious but in a way that i want you to come over clap and jump around with me but you know what disrupts it? people calling me a child, immature or thinking i’m basically a kid for wanting to be happy sometimes even insinuating i’m high or drunk. now i don’t consider being a child an insult, i consider it a privilege which is what grates at my nerves. now lets be honest here i never really got to be a child, all my life has been measured and scaled in perfections and disappointments. i think i was a child for all the years that i cannot comprehend but the minute i took up more space than was previously estimated or anticipated for instance talking, having opinions i stopped being a kid and that is also accounting for the fact that i started being loud really really early. anyways when i’m happy why do i have to be reminded of how my parents hate my ways of celebration or my reasons of happiness or remind me of the childhood they owe me. you know what i fucking resent it. no kidding because i feel robbed, like something was stolen from me and its thrown at my face every time i dare find joy because they think, every body thinks i’m still in the mental state that i was never provided. now whats so great about childhood? feeling safe, protected, feeling like you don’t have to think about people’s feelings other than your own or walk on eggshells or care about anybody but yourself, above all just feeling like your parent’s favourite. so yes i resent it because all i can think about is the child who liked to sleep in the middle clinging to her parents for warmth and security only to be shaken awake not knowing the reason or the fight but having to cry because the screaming hurts the crying of people you love and know makes you sick and pick a side in the divorce that never seems to happen and only to later have them made up but your mom blaming you in the morning and upcoming days for sleeping in the middle and causing it, or hey some other nonsense reason. but its always been me so where’s the security love and kindness at folks? yeah so fuck that i’m happy not a child. and this is me focusing on the misery- shocker.

[tryingtofit]

i love the movie duff until i don’t because while it was painfully real and hit too close to home, it embellished the ending, it chose to go the hallmark route, but that doesn’t happen for duffs. it’ll never happen to a girl like me. i wont ever get the guy, or fit in, or be confident in my own skin not really and so no i wont be accepting and moving on. i’ll forever the the friend whose not pretty enough, funny enough, girly enough, dateable. i wont ever that and that wont ever be me. so no duff ending, it doesn’t happen but thanks for thinking it.

[tryingtofit]

sometimes, okay more than often i like to pretend that i am the girl a guy leaves the world for. the girl who inspires his songs, anger, love and everything in between. i want somebody to get so green in jealousy and rage for me that they don’t know what to do with themselves. i can almost feel it if i focus hard enough. i can taste the joy of being desired so completely, to be somebody’s point of affection. i’ve heard people’s imaginary boyfriends and they almost always start at physical descriptions and end at kindness, love and some theatrical bullshit. i almost feel sorry for their poor brains, because atleast in imagination i can sense the crazed love, the one that sets my whole body on fire. pretentious love with high moral ground exists all around us, glued to our skin then i ask why would you want that infecting your brain too? its crazy that the only two things i ask for are undiluted loyalty and undivided affection and somehow those are the most uncommon human traits. certainly not given away so freely so as for me to ever deserve it. its equally crazy that two decade long search for affection has led me to scraps of love from people who are supposed to give it out unconditionally and yet this stupid heart still wont stop hoping for it from strangers who aren’t meant to be.

[tryingtofit]

i never wanted to be this weak

crying over

men again

and yet

only with your

absence

have i felt

the the feelings

of your presence

of what i denied

me so long

is finally

embedded

in my heart

only after

there is nothing

to do

except dream

of

what could be?

[tryingtofit]

its hard keeping peace in a fragile house made of glass and false security. you make yourself small, you make less noises, you choose your words with precision because time has shown you over and over again what happens when you don’t. you try to make every little happiness last and stretch. you try to make your sadness small, invisible when its breathing like a foreign organism. eventually you explode momentarily and then you pick the pieces up and mould them together to form an even tinier shelter. you constantly keep people out from the fear of disturbing the peace that depends on you being lonely and only ever its, and because you fear they will get cut at the edges you’re too slow to soften. its lonely being small, not because its a choice but because its a necessity. you let the hurt out when watching movies and shows, and even then hiding the tears that fall because its not worth the consequential hounding. its like every single day a piece of you is stripped apart from the life you never designed hoping someday it’ll be yours, but fearing if there’ll be anything left by the time it is. whats even more scary is wanting to leave it even when the guilt crushes your bones to dust, the bone deep feeling of wanting to run never really goes away. you slowly change its direction, you make a friend or two- a little rebellion, you screw up things a little to see the control slip momentarily letting the air in for a second. you slowly make the urge of escape find different methods only if to make it easier to fight it.

alot happens when you’re not living, but for now i guess surviving is enough. but will it be always?

[tryingtofit]

do you know what happens when at the ripe age of 18 you have enough traumatic experiences to last a lifetime yet they still won’t end? what happens when you shield yourself from interaction not only because its a necessity but you’re not allowed to- even friends? what happens when you’ve been shown all the ways love goes wrong and is toxic and doesn’t exist in short? i’ll tell you what happens- you get tired. you get bone weary carrying this baggage nobody can see, feeling you’re being dragged down every single moment of everyday. sometimes its better, sometimes its all energy and happiness and that generates the most awful thing of all : false hope. this dreadful hope is what lulls you, makes you smile and think okay maybe tomorrow will be better. but thats the thing about an abusive controlling household, no matter what hope doesn’t last especially for those who feel connected to their families like its whats making them breathe even if the feeling’s unrequited. thats when another wall takes up place of where you keep ideas of happiness, love and future stored. when you’re not allowed interaction, when you’re not allowed to make friends or risk making the fragile waters tremble- you shield. that shield appears as a chip on the shoulder, sarcasm and mean behaviour when all you really want is someone to strip you apart, see your secrets and stay. just stay enough to help you heal, if there’s anything left. i’m sure people have so much trauma, much more than mine. but that knowledge doesn’t help me when i can’t get up from the bed or stop staring at the wall or zoning out in a class i love, because in that moment all i want is warmth, so i set myself on fire over and over again just to feel something. even if its pain, i feel atleast i had a choice-

[tryingtofit]

richard hyping up meredith on the solo colon surgery (wedding day) is my favourite rewatch moment

[tryingtofit]

The broken never heal

By men they shatter

So with daggers

They write their

love letters.

To crave you

Is regret

To need you

Is mistake

To love you

Is forever.

[tryingtofit]

i think

purity

is love.

i think

love

is animalistic,

without reason,

wild,

ferocious,

intense,

untamed,

killer.

i think

the only

religion

i believe in is

love.

i think

selfless,

giving,

and

tortured truth

is love.

i think

if could,

i would

love like that,

and if i would,

it would be

you

that i

loved like that.

i know it

with

every fibre of

my being,

and every

corner of my

limited knowledge.

i know

love like that

wasn’t made

for people like me,

broken by self

and healed by none,

at least not yet,

so instead

i love you

like i love myself,

in pieces,

from distance,

clawed by

bleeding hands,

between regrets

and laboured

breaths.

[tryingtofit]

I wonder if I could do it,

keep you

In tussled sheets,

With stolen touches,

And secret prayers.

If I could

Survive being nasty

In my unrelenting

Desire for you,

Hidden beneath

Your need for normalcy,

And hunger for me.

For you,

I let go

My morals

As I took you,

Placed you in

My heart

Under my skin

Ever expanding.

For you,

I let go

Me

To make space

For you,

In my mind

Beyond reason

And beside doubt.

For you,

I became a

Breaker

Instead of the

Healer I destined in me.

For you,

I will

Continue to write

My fate in curses

And lies

Hidden from me.

For you,

I will

Keep secrets

That do not

Go beyond bed,

Embedded in my body

Like a splinter

Of pain.

I wonder how she could do it,

The girl I left behind

The daughter of a wife

Drowning in alcohol

Abusing for love

Left for a

Mistress.

I wonder

When my

Hatred for me

Grew into starvation for you,

Making me the woman,

Who broke a broken girl.

[tryingtofit]

if my heart

belongs

to a place,

it is you,

i trust to keep it.

keep it

like you keep

me.

in glass

of steel,

fragile

to onlookers

bold to me.

keep it

like you love

me.

in stolen glances,

in religious touches,

like you

starve

for the taste of me.

keep it

like you make

you love her.

with responsibility,

within

restraints,

within unknown lies

and half truths.

keep it

like you kept us,

a secret

a prayer

a mantra

a curse.

keep it

like i keep me,

with regret,

with loving

animosity,

in my hope of you.

[tryingtofit]

Never have I been starving for a book like I have for devious lies. Every time I read it, I find something new. Every single time it leaves me panting, with emotions I don’t recognise. It makes me believe in fate, when I never let myself believe in anything beyond present. Maybe its because of that, or the relief that everything I face or brave, is bigger than me, is part of a whole, no matter how convoluted. Like I am a part of something. Maybe its because the magic words emery utters leave me aching. Maybe its because I hunt for Nash and desire for emery. Maybe its because of my curiosity of stories unsaid. Maybe because it is filled with breathless thunder and love filled wonder. Maybe because there’s a tug of war between opinions and philosophies and it drives my brain to guilt of not knowing more. Maybe its because I want to have as much knowledge of gods and world secrets like they have. Maybe its simply because the author is talented beyond belief and yet I cannot make myself read anything else by her, for the fear it might taint this experience for me. Maybe its just because I am hollow with need for purity of love. Maybe its because I never feel this fiercely often, and always within reason. Maybe its all of these reasons and none. But I know one thing: it makes me feel. Feel so hard that I might kneel with sobs clanking through me for reasons unknown. So for all of you out there untouched by the magic this book is dipped in, go crazy and make it yours. I know I have.

[tryingtofit]

if i could love like an animal, wild; fiercely; without reason, it would be you, but for now i can love you like i love myself. from distance, in pieces, between regrets.

[tryingtofit]

has everybody had that moment when they felt loved?

not for motives, but just love even for a second? by anybody whatsoever? because i cant remember ever feeling that. how pathetic is it that i am 18, with a full family, some friends, a best friend, two ex boyfriend and yet not for one second have i felt loved? for once is it too much to ask, even for a fleeting moment, to be loved fiercely without a motive? without some hidden agenda? don’t i deserve to feel loved even once? i know i know i have my whole life ahead of me, i’ve barely lived etc etc. but what could i have done so wrong already that i havent been loved unconditionally by a single person, ever? what is so fractured that everybody sees it walking by? why do i feel like i am putting an exhibition even when i weave my pain in anonymous threads?

[tryingtofit]

it might be the period talking but do you sometimes feel this intense pain?

like somebody stabbed you but you don’t know where you are bleeding? like you cant see the wound even though its clouding every sense, you can smell it but not see it? not know it? sometimes i feel like carving my heart out just to escape it, to let go of that mysterious knee breaking pain? just blinding pure pain. it happens so suddenly that it literally steals my breath. i am seriously asthmatic so i know what not being able to means, literally, and it feels exactly like that. but worse because there’s panic, there’s this manic fear that it wont stop. that i could die right then but the pain wont stop. that i would never know what caused it and it will drown me in it. just me?

[tryingtofit]

i just read an old flame’s post about how falling in love with the idea of love is the “fault of our generation”. but what about some of us who are not capable of falling in love? if letting go and trust and love are something that is so alien ans abhorrent that mere idea of opening upto its possibility makes us shiver? so when we are hurt beyond repair, gone beyond help, and damaged beyond limits, we cease to deserve even falling in love with the idea of love? how is the burden of traumatic scars on us when we never chose it? why cant i just desire the idea of loving somebody until i am healed enough to do it in reality, if ever? and why till the absurd hope that redemption is at bay of sins that we didn’t commit do we have to wait and envy and mourn? when we could simply be in love with an intangible idea of it.

[tryingtofit]

what do you kids who get love, trust and hugs from your parents do differently? inspite of having friends, a life, mistakes, a sketchy blunder? how do you do more mistakes than good deeds, put yourself first and still get acceptance? how do you not follow every path laid down whether shakily and still find love?