Time Is A Flat Circle

this is not effective.

only posts that succeed get attention, and are then reblogged by other people.

This creates the appearance of an unbroken chain of people succeeding.

In other words: this is a form of selection bias, specifically survivorship bias.

Solving Problems

Solving a problem

is about finding

the right tool.

Sometimes

You have the right tool

but forgot it.

Sometimes

You saw wrong

And you grabbed the hammer

When what you needed was a wrench.

Sometimes

You simply don't have it

And need to go to the store

To get the tool you need.

Sometimes

That tool is people.

New ideas, new methods, new tricks.

Everyone else has so much to teach us.

And sometimes

I stressed so much

I forgot the simple solution

and cried myself to sleep.

And maybe

maybe sometimes

there just isn't a perfect solution at all

and I have to just deal with it.

Or maybe I'm using a voltmeter and car battery

When what I actually need is a hand.

I Am A Good Person

I am a Good Person.

I must not get angry.

I must not fight people.

I must not shout.

I must not be angry.

I must not be sad.

I must not talk about my paltry issues.

I must not talk about what I want.

I must not be inconsiderate.

I must not be insensitive.

I must not appear threatening.

I must not allow my face to be percieved.

I must not speak to people.

I must not draw the attention of others.

I must not be extraordinary.

I must not be unique.

I must not appear unhappy.

I must not appear different.

I must not see myself as unhappy.

I must not see myself as happy.

I must not seek freedom.

I must not prioritize myself.

I must not hestitate to help others at the cost of myself.

I must not unshackle myself from the chains of my own design.

I must not escape these chains which hold myself back from both Heaven and Hell alike.

I am a Good Person.

Tell Me What You Want

Am I who you want me to be?

Am I who you need?

Am I who you want to share food with?

Am I who you like?

Is this effort sufficient?

Should I put in more?

Is this emotion the correct one?

Should I use another?

Are these words the right ones?

Should I say a little less?

Are these motions the best ones?

Should I move a little less?

Tell me what you want me to be.

Caring? Angry? Happy? Sad?

Tell me what you need me to be.

Supportive? Detached? Blunt? Soft?

Please, just tell me what you want.

I live only to serve.

Hello, who are you? I wish to know your story. I see poetry blogs like these, I see them in their void; posting tagless, just screaming out, and I grow so curious. If you’re interested in giving an autobiography to a stranger, just say and I will dm you. My account is anonymous pretty much too.

yall is this some kind of scam or something

Me talking to the therapist voice in my head

"okay, so what do you say when someone says they're not worth anything"

"Who the hell says they're worthless I'll fight them" "Alright, now what should you think when you're the one that feels like you're worthless" "Well I'd be right, I am worthless" "no-"

A Tree Falls

A tree falls in the forest.

Nobody is nearby. Nobody to hear.

Does it even make a sound?

A tree falls in the forest.

It will impact the ecosystem

even more than it impacts the ground.

A lighthouse stops its beacon.

A ship nearby is lost and weary.

It cannot see. It runs aground.

A man dies alone in his hut.

He was kind, he was friendly, he was good.

At his funeral, no friends of his could be found.

But one kind lady far away might remember.

He had helped her find her way, a long time ago.

And so his memory, perhaps, will be skyward bound

as the man who loved everybody but himself.

The Temptation of Silence

Oh, how tempting that mistress is,

to be shut away and not a bother to nobody,

To make absolutely no-one the sadder

by reciting the same pains that ailed them.

Oh, how tempting that emptiness is,

to be quiet and subdued and unnoticed,

To make absolutely nothing go worse than it already has

by moving again to the great god of failure.

Oh, how tempting that nothingness is,

to be perfect and nonexistent and unbothered,

To make absolutely everything nothing, and nothing everything

by emptying the whole world of its contents.

Oh, how tempting that silence is,

to destroy my self in mine own vainglory.

i think im just traumadumping with poetry at this point

How Much of Me Is the Real Me

How much of me is the real me

and how much is what you put in there?

How much of me is what I really really want

and how much is what you've told me to want?

What part of me is the real, genuine article

and what part is the seeds you've planted?

What part of me is my blood, sweat, and tears

and what part is the loan you gave to a grave with my name on it?

Which notes in my melody come from my own mind and thought

and which notes are copied from a song I already forgot?

Which notes in my melody are beautiful, strong, soft, and cheery

and which notes are the discord you've sown?

What part of me is the part gives and seeks love?

and what part is the one that hates all it sees?

What part of me is the part that I should keep?

and what part should I leave behind?

How much of me is the real me?

and how much is your god-damned meddling?