it's personal discussion
newest »
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
crybaby much?
Itβs been lifetimes since Iβve lost my voice,
the high ringing melody that wavered to no soul.
the essence of my thoughts and ideas;
now emancipated and kept in the shadows
of someone else
how do you tell someone
what you're feeling
without explicitly telling them
what you're feeling?
don't cry, don't whine, don't show any strong emotions.
you sit on the palms of your hands and hope
to god no one accuses you of attention seeking,
because no one is listening these days.
how do you raise a voice?
donβt speak, donβt scream, donβt write, donβt sing.
you carve out your words
and stitch them on your sleeves,
because no one is listening these days
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
dear dakota
we were a conquest, moved by our visions of el dorado,
the city of gold,
a mirage created by our hungry hearts.
we swallowed it up,
pushed it down,
twisted it inside out;
when did the great city of the conquistadors turn into a ghost-town?
our arguments were nothing more than siren calls
meant to warn
but I was the foolish sailor that rode out to the jagged rocks
and I broke my knees climbing
and my hand slipped
reaching for his.
he's the ghost tale of el dorado.
he taught me to
stop wishing depth
into the shallow.
the tides vanished into thin air
with a wave of his hand
and when he struck that hand down
he made the gods cry tears of salt and ichor
our fear of the vast and the deep haunted us
as we freely swam the uncharted waters
but our recklessness was a nightmare
more haunting than the ocean
how funny is it that the seven seas separated us?
untitled iand most of all, above the soaked pillowcase, above the always cold bed; i found that my white comforters, where your body always left a print, no longer recognized your shape.
October thirteenth, 12:55 a.m.
I opened my mind and entered an alternate universe with doubt and confusion. To find one's soul is to lose one's body and that is a battle that no one warned me of. Had I known that exploring a sea of spirituality would come with so many troubling monsters lurking in the water, perhaps I would have remained ignorant. Perhaps I would still do it; with better preparation. To all truth seekers, no one will prepare you for this lonesome and reflective journey. Nothing will prepare you for the horrifying paths you may walk through alone to find yourself. Hell, I think I got lost somewhere in the dense forest, so don't even consider me for guidance. Nothing will prepare you for the morning coffee self-talks or the late night battles with your own reflection. Neither will you be able to unload your grievances onto another, because from the start of the journey, you will recognize and establish your own ethics. Unloading negative energy onto unsuspecting and susceptible souls happens to be unethical. So you opt out of venting. Actually, you begin to opt out of any social interaction. For how will you manage to touch other souls when your own soul is so far out of your reach?
With every step I take, I want to blind myself and enter a state of blissful ignorance. Every time I conjure up a question into existence, a little piece of my truth unravels. I know that I will watch it all come undone. I know that it's a daunting task that I must do and I must watch my world collapse before I'm able to rebuild it anew. Erasing every belief I had about the world to rewrite new truths isn't even the hardest part. That would be trying to find an answer to people's questions. When someone asks me " How are you doing?" all that I honestly want to say is:
" Well, shit, let me see here. I'm doubting everything I know about our universe, about our planet, about our existence, about our societies. I'm doubting everything I learned through schooling, through experience, through authority- oh yeah, what's that about by the way? We just believe things because someone with a glorified participation award told us to believe it?- Also, I have no idea what I want to do anymore and I forgot what I'm supposed to be living for."
But I guess I'm alive. And that is enough, so I have to say I'm alright.
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
kissing stars
I long for the day
where i see you so clearly
in the forefront of my mind
and ill still see you
when i open my eyes,
as if you were standing
right in front of me.
I long for the day
when your face
isn't blurred and fuzzy
and i can draw clear constellations
from the dark moles connecting the
underside of your curved nose and the
left of your tanned cheeks.
And I long for the day
where I trace my fingertips
from your angel kissed monolid to the
corner of your lip where the pink hue fades.
I long for the day where
soft jazz lulls and spurs every kiss made
on your constellation of a face.
![]()
![]()
![]()
second fall of rome
The west of edenΒ
Where unspoken words are engraved into the sky like stars
And your whispers are carried with the wind
You pray for the forbidden fruit
From the righteous garden of aleppo
Where your joyous motherβs bellyΒ
Bursts with vibrant treasure:
Fig and persimmons,Β
Nabk from the ziziphus.
You greed for waterΒ
To soothe your parched voice
And your joyous mother tearsΒ
Her veins to form geysersΒ
and nourish the azraq riversΒ
That will flow and ebb to you.
You cry for shelterΒ
From the smoldering desert sunΒ
So your joyous motherβs breastsΒ
Rise from the sandy soil andΒ
Form mountains in the northΒ
to protect youΒ
And your seedling of lifeΒ
She gave you breath,
Fruit, rivers and lakes,Β
Mountains that cut intoΒ
The clouds she storesΒ
Her tears for a rainy day,
Music to flow on a lonely day.
She gave you the moonΒ
And every star hung by a
Lamp post between every street,
A dance for love and a dabke for joy,
A song for sorrow, and sweets to enjoy..Β
She gave you every inch of her delicate skin,
Along with every mole and freckle
That you leered at.
She gave you her children, and
Their children, andΒ
You.Β
You.
You looked at her.
And you saw rome.
untitled iiithe crow of dark romanticism flapped its wings, raining the world with feathers of wishful thinking
you are
AmAzing
sPecTaculaR
tAlentEd
sHowStoPpiNg
bEauTifUl
did I say talented?? π€― ;)
love ur writing π€π€π€
ur one of my fav persons too π₯°
untitled ivI weighed myself today and the scale screamed back at me to remove my thoughts; they weighed too heavily.
untitled vI became subhuman the day I found catharsis in cellophane-wrapped plastic and nonexistent romance held hostage by a grid of electrical conductors.
untitled viThe moon I look up to my today isnβt the same moon you remembered me by your yesterday. So tell me, darling; if our love isnβt engraved in the heavens, how can we prove it to our mortal selves?
Nothing is more humbling than attempting to grow mint. You pick your stem, the strongest one with the most potential of growth, you propagate it in water, caring for it for days on end until you see lovely roots sprouting at the bottom, hopeful for a new permanent home. The mint plant is finally ready to be placed in soil. Yet the new environment overwhelms it, despite the eagerness. It doesn't grow. In fact, the leaves wilt and lose their scent. The plant will have you questioning; was it the soil... was the plant not ready yet... was it me?
I definitely do not recommend growing a mint plant. It doesn't respond well to changes. In fact, when you see one, just throw it away; might save you the wasted time and the heartache.
rimskur wrote: "sundara. wrote: "warning: mania
[spoilers removed]
"
i love u"
I LOVE U MOST HI I MISS U
sundara. wrote: "blurb
@ whoever is reading this: ur sexy and ur bringing sexy back
"
π³ woah
yo sun I think u define sexy tbh
jammy ΚΚΜ
ΝΚΜ
Κ wrote: "sundara. wrote: "blurb
@ whoever is reading this: ur sexy and ur bringing sexy back
"
π³ woah
yo sun I think u define sexy tbh"
Shut up jammy I just looked at google and it defined sexy as proper noun / jammy SO youβre wrong


