Another common aspiring writer. hello
49 posts
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Solivagant
My mind keeps running back to it, no matter how much I distract myself, the thought never leaves me alone, like it's embedded in my brain, isolating itself pushing away any rational thoughts that try to erase it. Centralizing thoughts was never my thing but never once did an idea dawn me to this extent. It seemed like a age old rule tempting me to break it. My conscious running on the commands of it may be for the best. The idea of suicide creeped inside of me three weeks ago. A pleasant day without any banter, peace coursing through the house but settling with heavy grief as I knotted my black tie around my neck, Nahyun had left a message about his grandmother's death and as his friend I needed to be by his side. I was though a little worried about his lack of grief towards the news of death, his grandmother was always the brightest light in his well lit life.
The atmosphere in the venue reflected Nahyun's feelings and response. I tried, tried my best to coax him into showing his emotions, letting out the raw frustration he was masking behind the straight and pale face but when he answered saying, 'I think everything is fine now, she doesn't have to deal with any more pain. Sometimes death is the solution', I believed him.
Maybe it isn't that bad of an idea if I can't get it out of my head, I mean what more pain can a person suffer after death? No one knows what lies beyond but one does know what's going on now and it's better to seek solace in trying to find an end to the ongoing misery. If Nahyun's grandmother is in a better place, so will I.
Though rather, hers wasn't a decision, but an expected yet unwilling turn of page to where she needed to leave the book behind. It's for the good.
______
But throwing away everything just to get rid of pain..? Is it worth for all I've lived?
Every question was blurred by the previous decision, I mean what choice do I have left, living amongst those who judge me for my preferences, abandonment throughout life, Scrunching nose with look of disgust when they ask me about myself and the hauntings of failures and heartbreaks.
Now, four weeks later here I am, a bottle of pills clutched in my left palm and the right hand resting on the edge of the bathtub, the silent room filled with loud clattering of my teeth. This is it. I didn't care with the goodbyes, didn't wanna be distracted with hollow words of hope.
Assumptions and accusations will be made but I won't be part of it, just the reason for it. They'll have me locked up one last time in their worries.
This is for the best. This- has to be for the best. But.. I'll be gone, forever. I'm scared but I have to do this, I'm useless.
.
(A/: I was currently working on this, so decided to post. Please show some love)
{Words by Anaïs Nin, from The Diary Of Anais Nin, Vol. 4 (1944-1947) / Cynthia Cruz from diagnosis,The glimmering room}
why we climb
—
they spoke often
of earning wings
and it brings
me to broken tears
I’ve thrown so much of myself into rainy weather
seeding, growing vines of contour feathers
It’s the heavy heart I fight.
And I can’t seem to take flight.
But when a new place calls,
all I need is a ride
maybe
I was meant to glide
.•.peako green•.•
I'm reading with my sister
A book about a boy almost
As good as the brother we
Both used to have & I know
I am only a pale placeholder
An eyelash in the blink of loss
But we paint the pain with
Love grown thick—
We know the agony of a
Phantom limb waving
Beyond the stars, a
Canopy flutters
show me the stars let the sun burn me up, and let the moon cool me down fill my lungs with water and my heart with your love so I’ll be drowning and floating at the same fucking moment
~ L.B. | 04 Feb. 2015
being lost feels so hollow my anchor's gone. i drove him away sent a piece of my heart in each of the letters its cracked and bruised and forgotten now your words stayed with me forever either casting an ethereal glow or leaving bloodstains that mark me i've hurt and i've bled by your hand but your hand was the one that held mine too no matter how much i try i can't help going back to you got lost and found again, but the scars stayed forever couldn't find myself again, lost in the darkness you held my hand all okay, super spy, crazy together, i love you, so do i burnt from the fire that took the darkness out you don't know it, but you healed me more than the doctors ever could best thing, cool, cool, lost you, not the same, we're friends destroyed the one place i felt safe my happiness will be my own demise disappearance, out of body experience, teenage angst i've experienced it all my life is a parody of icarus' fall your words stayed with me forever mine didn't reach you at all
the el counterpart
the mike counterpart
Some like to imagine the dark caress of someone else, I guess any thrill will do.
-Hozier
empty heart opportunities
—
I waited so long for you
like an old tree falling
I sorted out all my problems
so I have none
to give you
appreciating life,
I could live two
I don’t think I wrote enough
It’s amazing how it all opens up
The nights get dark
but there’s light in the heart
Glowing to the beat,
dreaming in the sleep
and you’ve given me a feeling
I can keep
.•.peako green•.•
I remember the itch to grow up,
To be strong and tall
like everyone else in their lives.
Shift to the portal of future
that held only bright light and nothing else.
At that time, I didn't believe in tragedy,
The galaxy in my eyes blinded it away.
For I was just a child aiming at the moon,
With no worry of the past and present
I only know the moon and it's dreams.
The school days were a breeze,
My childhood, a well lit summer.
I didn't see the hurt in the olders
or the treachery in their shadows.
I just spoke, spoke my heart out.
But the path to the light was so endless,
So long and exhausting with experiences,
With no shade and no arm to lean on.
It hurt, with the realisation of nothingness
And the dejection of reality.
I, now itch to go back in time,
Steal the deluded, innocent memories
And orbit them in my mind, until the reel
is torn and the reality fades,
But my conscious wants to at least let
the happiness linger with younger me.
If not her, then who else?
Deserving more to keep high the expectations,
to cling onto a deserving future.
Deserving more to feel the warmth in cold tiles
Because I see her and can't help but think I was her.
~ Umme Ayman.
石獅
I’ll come back
As the stone lions that guard the temple.
Reach your hand into my mouth
-If you dare-
For luck…
For I was carved with a bone to pick,
Whittled inside my cheek to check
The pluck
Of man.
Fortune favors the braver the pleader
And I am brave by far…
I know where those hands
Have been.
_____________________________
Maureen Armstrong @haikkun
A rusty almirah may hold
no importance to any,
But it was his favourite.
It belonged to his inamorata.
It stood in the corner
Beside his bed, governing.
The magenta colour blazing
in the dimly lit, dusty room.
Every saree in the almirah,
a colourful page of their life.
He'd run his fingers through
the soft material, gratified.
In his days of strength
He complained, repeatedly
When she stood in front of
The almirah deciding on her attire.
The stickers had decided to
stay longer on the skin of it,
Some scraped and some attached
Each telling about a trend then.
In his claustrophobic life,
The almirah stored contentment.
The key to it too; held a sweet
Monochrome picture of his wife.
He'd sometimes stand still in front
Of the mirror of the almirah
looking deep within as if
He could meet her eyes through.
The rusted handle cold,
much like when he last
held her hand tight with
no absolute warmth or pulse.
Now grey with weakness,
He only wishes the almirah
To stay by his side, making
up for his late wife's presence.
-Umme Ayman.
I wasn't actually in love, but I felt a sort of tender curiosity.
- The Great Gatsby.
“She didn’t need to be saved. She needed to be found and appreciated for exactly who she was.”
— j. iron word
Windward the kite swirls indefinitely.
The thread stings my palm like a new cut.
And I let go off it.
If I could but know his heart, everything would become easy.
- Marianne Dashwood, Sense and sensibility.
Her coming was my hope each day,
Her parting was my pain;
The chance that did her steps delay
Was ice in every vein.
–Song sung by Mr. Rochester
“Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!”
~Heathcliff (Wuthering heights)
My sister puts glasses away upside down.
Because our mother does,
Because her mother did,
Because her mother lived through the Dust Bowl.
One day my father sat me down and told me about epigenetics.
How the trauma he went through
As a child in an abusive home
Wrote itself into his DNA
And, in turn, into mine.
How he and his brothers,
In various ways,
Are all sick from it.
How I might be too, someday,
And I’m not sure I’m not.
I hear people say,
When will we get back to normal?
And I think of a woman born in the twenty-first century
Who puts her glasses away differently
Because of what her great-grandmother endured
Ninety years before.
The rain depicts every human emotion. It cries along with you in sadness, it roars and bursts out when you're angry, and it smiles upon you through little droplets of happiness, tickling you with mischievous drizzle.
Where is my chance to run through a field of sunflowers and laugh aimlessly without my bothersome anxiety and judgement???
Nayyirah Waheed, from Nejma
[Text ID: “all the women. / in me. / are tired.”]
Dreams so vivid, they blend with our realities.
“She is the master of reincarnation, dying each time her thoughts dwell on him.”
— Noor Shirazie