Trivialities Of My Life

poetry, diary, evidences of me trying to grasp life; ALSO how do I turn on replies for my posts, someone please help lmao (guys I figured it out after 3 MONTHS)

[anonymousalchemist]

ykno the thing about poetry is that 99% of it is bullshit and the other 1% will cut you like a material knife, and for every person that 1% is a different section of the whole. this is probably true about all art.

[yellowcoral]

And someday you will sit by sea and everything will make perfect sense

[yellowcoral]

"And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for."

(Dead Poets Society, 1984)

[yellowcoral]

I‘ve read too many books about boys, who prefer spending their time on roofs to their rooms, and who may or may not visit you on your balcony at night. I often wonder how long it‘ll take to finally make a roof-acquaintance, and then I remember: I don’t have a balcony.

[sadswaggynerdyfrog]

If I let my insides be emptied and scraped clean with spoons last summer I wouldn’t be sitting in this chair in my English class and my professor wouldn’t have anyone to ask about how to wear earrings the way I do. If I hung myself with the necklaces rusting on my collarbones, because no one’s fingers wants to take them off and fiddle around with them, I wouldn’t have seen that friend smoking at my university’s main gate and ranting so sweetly to me as soon as they saw me. But what difference would’ve been made if I did rest months ago?My professor would go back to her office to grade some papers and my friend would answer the many calls they get daily and rant to others.

I expected to find myself stepping on a bed heavy with three other bodies belonging to people who are more than friends. I expected to be woken up at 3am just because someone wants me conscious and present but I might as well be swallowed by my sheets and the sun will still rise and my skin will still crack. I’ve been observing. I’ve been mimicking. Yet I’ll always lack the sparkle, the neatness. I’ll always be dirtied at the core by a clump of mud.

I’m seventeen. I want to be happy at seventeen and heal at seventeen and stop being a fifty year old with the hands of a five year old at seventeen. I’ve been seventeen for so long I can feel the years sliding inside my squeleton. I’ve been seventeen for so long and I figured that I am made more of loneliness and longing than I am made of myself.

[yellowcoral]

to find out wether someone is quiet bc they have the most exquisite or the most boring thoughts is a quest for itself

[yellowcoral]

Did he laugh because he thought that my joke was funny or because he could touch my thigh while laughing?

Would he hang out with me if he knew he had no chances with me? Would he be kind? Why me? Because I‘m around and no one else is? Because your bed would be empty if I stood up? Would you speak as fondly of me if I stopped touching your life?

[yellowcoral]

I wish I could split myself into a billion pieces just to be with everyone on new year’s eve.

[yellowcoral]

i want to put my arms around me and hug myself, until the sadness is dripping out of me. i could fill cups, i could fill every cloud and make the sky look grey - color nature’s ceiling in tristesse and worry. my heart feels heavy. i am longing so much further than everything i can sense, it makes me sick and sad to the stomach. i’m flirting with a reality that doesn’t love me back; i want to touch another life.

[yellowcoral]

I miss the sound of children’s laughter at the swimming pool and the hazy sun that fell on my face with such a heaviness like your face never could.

[echoingrants]

pov you’ve dumbed yourself down for validation and now you’re actually dumb

[avgeneis]

I ache for the world and I run away from it

[yellowcoral]

I would like to exchange a little daisy for your friendship. Is that enough?

[metaphorformetaphor]

“[…] there are no real endings, just as there are no real beginnings. There are just imaginary borders, signs, and marks that we put in place in order to structure our irrational existence in this random universe. We dress it up with meaning to cover its nakedness. They are bridges we build over the eternal river that flows, indifferent to us. This truth set me free and opened a new horizon for me.”

— Sinan Antoon, from The Book of Collateral Damage (Yale University Press, 2019)

[you-are-loved-you-are-enough]

don't ever compare your living, breathing, beautifully imperfect real-life human self to someone else's controlled online content.

[yellowcoral]

i‘m a people pleaser and it will probably kill me one day.

[yellowcoral]

Okay but an onlyfans only for thoughts and poetry??