muchi

studyblr: studycian.tumblr.com | in pursuit of peace

[remanence-of-love]

[kiefbowl]

the most important virtues for the young woman are as follows: time theft, selfishness, orgasms, irreverence to authority, sacrilegious behavior, a questioning mind, and eating regular meals.

[kosmogrl]

everything is changing and maybe that’s okay

[kosmogrl]

as you get older you realise that anything that helps you stop feeling stuck is welcome even if it hurts at first

[weltenwellen]

Goatsong Leila Chatti

[free-my-mindd]

[classicalcanvas]

Wheat Field with Cypresses at the Haude Galline near Eygalieres (1889) by Vincent van Gogh

[luna-azzurra]

Steal from everything you love. watched a movie and thought "wow that scene hit different"? figure out why and use it. read a book where the banter made you kick your feet? study it. saw a tiktok that made you Feel Things? that's research. keep a notes app full of random lines you'll never use. screenshot tumblr posts at 4am for "inspiration." your influences should be obvious and chaotic. remix everything. that's not theft that's apprenticeship.

[wordscarver]

i have lost my voice. life has barely lent me the space to let loose and to speak my mind. i’m currently struggling with those cruel voices of shame, not-enough-ness, and fear.

this world was limitless the last time i remembered it. now i am confined, shackled, and pinned onto a wall. to touch the ceiling is high enough and to reach the sky, oh i can only dream.

i’ve been acting on odd impulses, constantly barking and going mad like a hungry coyote. mindless runs, and empty eyes. i feel like i’m already dead and there’s no way to revive me.

i’ve tried talking, praying, loving, smiling, but none of those sustain long enough. running out of choices to cope, i can only hope that this messy suffering can be over.

no more perfect language. no more thoughtful lines. just a gasp of air and an effort to regain consciousness again.

[vrtualdreamgirl]

we can’t talk here contact me in my dream tonight

[wordscarver]

oh to write?! to think AND write?! i miss those days where life is way too comfortable that it lent me all the time in the world to read a lot, think even more, and write up some of the thoughts.

now, nothing comes out. the creativity juice is squeezed dry. man..

i cannot pinpoint what makes working in s so much difficult. It can be easy but it’s definitely mentally taxing. that alone can make me crumble.

[wordscarver]

oh to ponder, to have thoughts, to ruminate, to mull over something and to quietly & peacefully take your time…..to do the invisible-magical-heavensent action of thinking…..

[softwaring]

by tucker

[wordscarver]

absofuckinglutely

[wordscarver]

is my life miserable?

no. i sleep well. i eat well. i have a stable job. i have nice friends. i earn good money. from the surface it looks just okay. but deep inside i know i’m missing a big piece that used to be there but no longer there.

is it gratitude?

is it childlike-ness?

is it because i want more, i know more, i want better and i know better — that i cannot settle back to a life filled with gratitude and ignoring the areas i’m lacking? feels like i’m gonna have second best only now.

my real life (stripped out of the crazy shenanigans world i’m dealing with) is bland. it was fine til i know what it is to have more. but my real life is peaceful. how unfair! why can’t we have something peaceful AND extravagant all at once?

[wordscarver]

i have stopped writing.

i’ve been typing & deleting sentences. i’ve been overly self-concious. i’ve been mourning the loss of my old self who had been so generous for leaving me a page-full of writing. thank you, muchi. you were great.

and i’m here now. i live in this foreign city far away from home. working 8 to 6 from monday to saturday. barely have any time to write back (or write forward) to my future self, or even to just sit down and inhale passages from poetry books like i used to.

i have lost my words and my voice.

life has thrown me off the cliff without warning, i’ve been in dark valleys, hurt myself multiple times, and i wish, i do wish i could write it out. but it’s gone. half of my life is spent on working. and the rest of it is spent on dealing with my problematic everything.

i learned nothing new. i don’t feel like i’m getting any wiser, if anything, i might get a little less wise & patient. my birthday is coming up in 2 weeks. and i’m just so ashamed of what i’ve not become.

am i being too harsh on myself? i don’t know. but i swear i didn’t anticipate this amount of turmoils & turns in my 20s.

i’ll try to write more from now on. i realize how sad it is to not leave any trace of your youth. muchi, i’ll try my best

[wordscarver]

i’m so full of wants, how come anyone endure living this life carrying desires, passions, and wants? moreover. life is also filled with beauty. i want beauty. i want to grasp and own that beauty. i want to adore beauty closely. i want to have it. and this urge lacerates me.

[letsbeapoemtogether]

"All literature is scarry. It celebrates the wound and repeats the lesion."

-Hélène Cixous, from Stigmata; Preface

[weltenwellen]

Sally Wen Mao, from “Anna May Wong Dreams of Wong Kar-Wai”, Oculus