Thoughts??

[virtualbestie]

I find words before i find meaning to them

I write for i seek the meaning to them

I pause to reflect on them

I write more for i see the unknown

I stop for the entirety is given

So i will pause again for the question is answered.

Did you find the answer?

yes

No

Voting ended onJun 23

[quotefeeling]

“Let today be the day you love yourself enough to no longer just dream of a better life; let it be the day you act upon it.”

— Steve Maraboli

[virtualbestie]

What a joy to be in the process of your making

[virtualbestie]

Hi ,it has been a year since i was here .It is 3:18 am right now and this is the time when someone wakes up and be like "what's going on ".For me it's, what do I need to do and my first thought was coming back on here because writing for me is basically home and on here i can build that.I still feel new here as i posted only three posts and that was it ,i do still write but not openly as much though.I do hope i find my community and yes i will do .I write my words through unconventional poetry and that's my thing.if anyone finds this know that i am your virtual bestie .

[virtualbestie]

I watch, horrified, as you strip me bare of my pink and yellow polka dot dress.

Your touch is cold against my skin, and I breathe hard,

Trying to snap myself from it,

Trying to define myself as something different,

But maybe I never was.

You take me in your arms,

And for the first time, I feel loved—

Seen for who I am.

You lay me on my back,

And when you give yourself to me,

I close my eyes and let the tears fall.

Because here, I can cry.

Without feeling sorry for it.

Without feeling ungrateful.

You move with me,

And when you tremble against my lips,

God—

You are sweet.

Like charcoal.

Like pepper.

Like chocolate melting on my tongue.

And that is enough.

Enough to believe that love is not a fairytale,

But a story written by two lovers

Holding onto each other

Until they stop drowning.

You light a cigarette in the shadow of the night,

Smoke curling around us,

Soft and slow,

And you hum along to Cigarettes After Sex.

And I wonder—

Is this love?

Or just the quiet before the fall?

[virtualbestie]

I don’t know how to feel this feeling. What if I take too much, only to lose it all? What if I abandon the dream, only to find myself wishing on dandelions for one more chance?

I look into your eyes and see a little heaven I never knew existed. You took me into your arms and promised to calm the storm—not just for me, but for us. Us. And that alone gave me a reason to fight, to hold on through the tempest, through the wilderness.

Like rain tapping against my roof, I will dance—imperfect, missing steps, but dancing still. I will move to the rhythm of that December night, even if I stumble, even if the music fades.

[virtualbestie]

I never really look at a fish. It exists—silent, gliding through water, unnoticed. But what if I did? What if I stopped and watched, tried to tell its story?

Would it be short, a fleeting moment lost in ripples? Or would it stretch long, carried by the currents, touching shores it never meant to reach?

What is the significance of a fish? It swims, it breathes, it lives. And yet, its life is not what lingers. It is what it creates—the circles in the water, the shimmer that catches the light, the way it feeds the world around it.

Maybe that’s the meaning. Maybe living isn’t the point. Maybe it’s what we leave behind that matters.

Because life is temporary, a passing breath in an endless cycle. No matter how much we try to hold onto it, it slips through our fingers, moving forward without waiting. But what stays? The traces we leave behind. The way we shape the world, the people we touch, the stories we become part of.

A fish doesn’t think about the water it stirs. It simply moves, unaware that its small ripples will stretch far beyond its body, affecting currents it will never see. And maybe we’re the same. We don’t always realize the impact of our presence, the weight of our words, the way our smallest actions change something—or someone—forever.

The marks we leave are not always grand. Sometimes, they are whispers instead of echoes, shadows instead of monuments. A moment of kindness, a thought shared, a dream passed down. We don’t choose what lasts, but we do choose what we give.

So maybe life isn’t measured in years or breaths, but in the spaces we fill and the voids we leave. Maybe we are all just ripples on a vast ocean, knowing we’ll disappear but hoping we’ve moved the water enough to matter.

Maybe the fish was never just a fish. And maybe we were never just meant to live.

[virtualbestie]

hey ,am new here .Does that sound like a good introduction ?lol i didn't want to think about it but just started typing my way into my first post before starting to what brought me here.I like to write basically about my thoughts ,my feelings and maybe even tiny random stuffs .So here i am ,looking for a place that atleast would make me feel "at home ".I will rumble as you listen lol bye .