Where the strength to be alive comes from?
I often see so many people being so happy about their lives. I was speaking to a friend whom called me morbid for talking about my wish for the death, and she was emphatic about how much she desires to have a long life, how many plans and goals she has for all those years of her life and how much she wanted to die at very old age.
The things is: I don't have that. I could die today, I wish I had died a long time ago, I never wanted a long life, I never wanted to pass my 30s and I often wonder WHERE people find all this will to be alive? Why do they want to live so much? What is so nice and happy about their life that makes them want to have a long life? I don't get it. I wish I did but I don't.
All I want is to all this pain to be over as soon as possible, and this painfull sensation that being alive causes me. I don't have joy or any desire about life that could even make me dream about dying at old age. I want to be gone as soon as possible.
At this point I guess it is important to comment I'm not talking about ending it all myself, I'm only wishing I don't have much more life spam around.
Day 4 is celestial!! I really wanted to bring back my fav from last year’s mermay for this one!!
Hard to consider a certain level of personal growth and improvement when you can't get over something simple as an affair. We do everything so fast, we get to know each other, we send everyday text messages, we fall in love, kiss, have fights, get apart, get back together, get apart again and one day end up not talking to each other ever again. However we miss each other, whisper a name, a word, a feeling, but we are too proud to send a message, to proud to say how much we miss each other and then we let it die but it is never actually dead, somewhere inside you can still feel it and some times you wonder about how could it be if it ever worked out.
You will never know because you don't want to try to go after the person, you don't want to risk yourself, to hear a 'no', to get a cold message, you don't want to hurt yourself and your memories, you rather let it be the way it is.
"It is better this way."
But it is not. It is just safer. You don't want to be rejected by that person you care so much about. That person you have so many warm dreams about and get lost on thoughts imagining a perfect life together. You don't wanna risk all of that.
You just let it die.
Some relaxing short videos I took to help with sleep or calming ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ☆彡
✧・゚:*Today’s magical girl of the afternoon is: Prisma Illya from Fate/kaleid liner Prisma☆Illya✧・゚:*
Joana: This is crazy!!
Rodrigo: Nothing is really crazy. Some things are just different.
Charlotte: Well, there must be some standard for what is crazy and what is normal,, like, how can we know what is right and what is not?
Rodrigo: Maybe we just created those ideas, maybe everything can be ok in a different circumstance, maybe what we judge as a polite or nice conversation can be annoying on another point of view or time.
Joana: WHAT?
Rodrigo: Think at this like what we consider wrong today or what we consider normal now days. Would you say it was always wrong or normal? During the history of modern society, was everything normal all the time?
Joana: Of course not!
Charlotte: Most definitely not, some things are just insane today or used to be at some point.
Rodrigo: That's my point. Nothing is crazy because the idea of crazy is always linked to the idea of normal,, and what's normal today might not be tomorrow and what we consider a crazy person may become what we consider a bright or extremely intelligent person in the future. Just think about it next time you think a idea is crazy.
Cinnamon buns 🐇
spring and autumn
ouch
You hate yourself so loudly. You hate yourself at the top of your lungs. Your loathing for yourself permeates your speech. “Sorry I’m just rambling.” “Don’t worry about it.” “Just ignore me.” “Sorry if I’m annoying you.” “Sorry I don’t make sense.” “Sorry about that.” Sorry, sorry, sorry. You act as if you have to beat everyone else to the punch. As if the punching bag is you. If you hate yourself first, if you hate yourself loudest, then nobody will hurt you. You clapped your hands over your ears and shut your eyes and balled yourself up so that you’d never have to experience people’s loathing for you. And it meant you never heard their love. You drowned it out. You screamed your hatred over it. And you never got to hear it.
work in progress /some art /venting out /writer at random opp / “My soul is the mirror of the universe, and my body is its frame.”-Voltaire;
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