he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Mike Driver
Show & Tell
NASA
titsay
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we're not kids anymore.
YOU ARE THE REASON
will byers stan first human second
roma★
Noah Kahan
EXPECTATIONS
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d e v o n
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Andulka
Kiana Khansmith
cherry valley forever
if i look back, i am lost
official daine visual archive
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@words-n-stuff-for-me
To anyone seeing this
I made this account because my good friend who helped me discover more about myself has a Tumblr and why not make one myself. I needed a place to dump my writing and it felt awkward going back to Wattpad and god forbid I go back to Ao3.
So feel free to stick around, enjoy the spelling and grammer mistakes. Feel the feels, whatever suits your fancy. Ill be here sipping water out my mason jar jamming out to the words from my hyperactive brain. :3
REBLOG IF THIS RELATES TO YOU:
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
so i went through some more shit… I have probs a whole book of poems I can post so for the 0 ppl that read this hope your as excited as I am because I know im def not :3
Prompt #966
"Why did you never tell me?"
"It was a personal issue."
"You being in love with me kind of also involves me."
Heres my attempt lol.
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"Why did you never tell me?" I sighed, looking away from his direction out into the dark lake.
"It was a personal issue." He said solemnly, almost catching his last word like a sudden gust of wind. I wanted to ask him about the issue, but you already knew what he meant.
"You being in love with me kind of also involves me." I said, nudging his shoulder with my elbow. My smirk slowly rising to glance at him. Yet when my eyes finally met his face, I was met with somber. My smirk faded into a melancholic look. I could tell he was hurting.
“You know Colin, what you did back there was brave. I don’t know many people who could fight back like that.” I say, almost as if I’m pleading for his happiness. He doesn’t respond, instead he lets out a sigh. I notice his legs are kicking back and forth over the side of the dock. The water almost reaching his feet every time it moves.
He looks down, opens his mouth in preparation to say something. Before a hint of air could leave his mouth, I lean in and kiss him. He pushes me off slightly, softly grabbing my arms.
“I can’t do this.” Colin says, his eyes beginning to water.
“But… You said you loved me.” I reply, almost whispering by the end of it. I can feel tears starting to form, my throat begins to burn. I can’t let this be how we end.
We face each other, not even two feet apart. Every other second, we exchange short breaths. Pretending we are about to say something but in reality, the silence is all we needed to understand one another. In the silence I can hear the distant sirens.
“We can’t keep running.” Colin says. His arms starting to grip tighter on my arms. Red and blue lights begin to flash in the distance illuminating the water.
“I know.” I reply, putting my hands on his arms. After a brief pause, we intertwined ourselves. I can hear Colin beginning to cry, his choppy breaths bound to my ear.
“You had to defend yourself. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, you hear me?” I whisper, the lights starting to get closer and closer. I can hear the cars driving on the dirt road. Crunching closer and closer.
On shore you look back and see the carnage. Three bodies lay on the ground, some missing limbs. The red and blue lights flickering between masking the blood and showing how dark it is. You see the hatchet he used to fight laying at the start of the dock.
“You had to.” I whisper again. I see the police cars pull up to the dock. From that point on I told myself. We could never be apart.
70s style phone decor
theres something off about this and i can tell if its my trauma or the fact its built so blocky...
Some stuff I wrote awhile ago
I remember the plane flight here. It wasn’t my first time flying. It wasn’t my first time leaving family on a whim. In a day I made my decision, I would leave Seattle and go to Maine to live with my Father again. The place I had left 6 months earlier in a similar state, disoriented. Delusional.
I proclaimed that me leaving was in connection to my ineptitudes. That everything up to this point had been failure after failure. How I knew everyone hated me, scoffed at me when they walked past. Oh how I began to dig myself into a hole filled with lies and fallacies.
My own ignorance was however on schedule. Every 6 months is about the time it takes for me to breakdown again. To flee, to run, to avoid, to cower in fear of anything that stood in front of me. I spent days under a blanket before, scrolling on a phone that I barely could afford. Spending my other time with a headset on my face. Soon the distractions weren’t enough.
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Escape with me. Once again my friend we board the train of apathy in search of a fix. What kind of fix you may ask, well anything really. Anything I- I mean WE can get our hands on. If it gives melancholic joy then hand it on over.
That phone right there, hand it over. Its bright lights and many colors amuse me. The videos, the content I consume daily. Dopamine rushes filled with dopamine rushes inside dopamine rushes and then…
A dead child. I just saw a child die. Lets go to a different app the phone cant be all bad. Lets try the blue bird surely funny things happen there. Oh look the president said something funny, a man fights someone over their views, I see children dying.
WHY ARE THE CHILDREN DYING?
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If I had a will, what would I write in it. An easy answer would be split my assets amongst my immediate family and any children I may have. Have arrangements for funeral services, place of burial. Write some kind of heatfelt yet hald joking remark to amuse my Mother. Leave something sentimental for my sisters.
But I don’t want that, and I know I wont be able to have that. When I die, bury me with the tree at Gigis house. Or at least where the tree used to be before Papa died. Where me and my cousins would spend hours climbing and hanging from while Thanksgiving meals were being cooked.
Where I was a kid, and nothing but that. Bury me where my memories lay, where my innocence was kept. Where I can lay at peace with my inner child.
I want only the people my family seems should be there being there. I don’t want any heartfelt speeches at a podium where they praise me for my attributes while ignoring the things that were wrong with me. I don’t want some grand funeral entrance where black roses are pelted along the walkway.
I don’t want that. Bury me by the tree at Gigis house, in silence. Afterwards, I want there to be a feast. I want everyone to enjoy there meals and by the end of it I want fireworks and laughter and mishaps. I don’t want my death to be somber, I want people to know that I left in peace no matter how I died.
yay :3
"Insert r/IAm14AndThisIsVeryDeep title pertaining to the text" (Spoiler alert: its about me wondering)
I tend to start of my prompts with the phrase “Sometimes I wonder…” I wonder if this is just an excuse to think about the world around me instead of acting on it. I wonder if anything I do would really amount to anything so therefore I just think. Never act.
Never just do something, be afraid. Petrified that once again my ambitions, aspirations, and goals will fail. That I will once again fall into a hole that I refuse to dig myself out of. To never return to the surface in fear that the surface harbors all my problems. To ignore the shovel I used to dig myself down and to instead look at the “What ifs?” and “Whys” that plaugue my mind everytime I step outside
I wish I could stop wondering. I wish I could enjoy the work, enjoy the monotonous nature of life in pursuit of some kind of normalcy. To be able to force myself to fit into the mindset everyone else seems to be faking their way through. I wish I could just exist in this world and instead of wondering.
Just do it. Such a simple phrase, yet it entails so much. Ignore your preoccupations in pursuit of something. Take every bit of willpower you have left and go for it. Just do it. Just fucking do it.
My mother would often take my claims of not being able to do something as a lack of volition. My complaints of how being able to do things on my own really amounted to a lack of responsibility. While she may have been right on some aspects I find myself really wondering wheather or not it really is that.
I honestly think that my ability to do things lies in the reality that I have no intrest doing the things everyone else is doing. I don’t want to submit to some notion that money is everything. That my life is already planned for me. Get a job, work till you cant and hopefully you can retire and enjoy life. Sacrifice your time, energy, soul into a task so that you may soon enjoy the fruits of life. Make some friends and keep them.
Do something for society. I hate that idea. I never chose to be on this earth, I never consented to being apart of this rat race. When I came out the womb there wasn’t a contract I had to sign stating how I need to be. How I need to conform.
No, I came out the womb crying. Grasping for air and wanting to be held. I come out the womb scared and unsure of who I was. Feels like ive stayed that way since then.
So I wonder, instead of acting. I wonder instead of doing, pursuing, living because at this point. Ive thrashed around aimlessely and have gotten nowhere.
Some stuff I wrote in like 10 minutes listening to some random emo album because im almost 20 but still have the emotional inteligence of a 6th grader
The air feels warm, almost too warm. Warm enough to remind me of the air I left my parents in. The air I walked so many times before, the smell of rain not yet to come filling my nose. Storms in the future. When will the sun feel right again.
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Look at that bottle of moonshine, ponder it. “Apple Pie Moonshine” states the top of the bottle which closely resembles a mason jar. Its small, maybe a shot or 2 at most. Its size enough of a portion to make you feel okay after a couple hours before you fall asleep. Enough to make you forget.
“Ole Smoky” is the name of it. Not that it would matter to you, your not looking to enjoy and find a new brand of something to proclaim about. You want to not feel, to make you forget.
You don’t care that it was bottled at Ole Smokey Distillery in Gatlinburg, Tennesse. You don’t care about the Surgeon Generals warnings about pregnancy or driving. You don’t care about the flavors added.
You want to forget. So you open it up, the seal pre opened from the countless nights you spent staring at it hoping you would never stoop so low as to drink. But again, what do you have to lose. Hopefully, enough to forget.
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Let me show you betrayal. Picture this, your life isn’t so great right. Parents divorced, you’ve been beat and beaten again by everyone. You wake up everyday though, you may not want to but by the end of the day you do. You go to school, you have a job. Everything is going well.
Then one day you wake up, and your brain is completely rewired. The synapses go haywire and now your along for the ride. This progress you made was for nothing. You runaway for the next 3 years, and every dream you ever had cant happen anymore. Your brain, no your bloodline has cursed you to this life. Either conform and change your very being or die young being yourself. Choose wisely because you don’t have time, everyday your brain rots.
Less and less of it exists each day, but take these meds they help regenerate it. But they also stop you from you. From authenticity. Jesus fucking christ let me tell you about betrayal.
