R3v3rie - ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Reverie ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

i just think it’s silly that my parents were a little sucky and now i’m a 19 year old with a personality disorder and an emotional support stuffed animal

a shitty attempt at poetry, i should stick to long-form

there is nothing better than praying to my Gods. i thank them nearly every day but i want to especially thank them for the blessings and grace they have extended towards my life. may my prayers continue to be heard, and may they bless me with this opportunity tomorrow. i’m nervous, but i know that everything that happens does so for a reason.

blessed be everyone <3

my self discovery journey is off to like the most insane start?? the universe has really decided that now is the time i finally get my shit together and be the person i only wished i could be. the coincidences are starting to feel more like fate. i want to talk to the Gods quickly on the subject and make sure that i am on my highest path,, but i think i’m really doing it guys. i just read the most empowering book about the universe and power of belief. i have the will, i just have to start to believe.

like the random compliments i’ve been giving are coming easier, enjoying my days and finding the good is still tough but i’m getting there, the last step is realizing that i am not what my father thinks i am- which will hopefully come faster than i could ever expect.

‘Prowling Cats’ by Tim Southall

i’ve literally been lying to everyone and myself for years about how i hate kids, but my therapist told me that the fact that i as a 13 year old child wanting to stop the hypothetical that i have kids and fuck them up like my parents did to me is the most insane sign that i would be a good parent lol

she thinks i’d be a great parent :’) like idk little thirteen year old me is so secretly happy

sometimes i wonder if michael stalks this account, he has no idea it exists, but i still get nervous to reveal specific details about him anyways.

i saw a girl on my fyp swinging a lightsaber and flashes of the night at the football field flooded my mind. Which reminded me of all the stars we could see that night, making me think about the backyard picnic- and how the summer night breeze rushed through my hair as i ran and ran and ran while you chased me all across the field. the way you would grab me and haul me over your shoulder as you dragged me back to the blanket giggling all the way. I thought about all the ice cream, and the parking lots, the 3am paragraphs, and the endless destination-less car rides.

the way we didn’t talk for years and you still remembered how to get to my house by heart.

i miss you. i cant yell it any louder. i miss you michael. but you left and i need to move on. but how am i supposed to stop grieving the man that i wrote about in my notes app- the one i said i was sure i knew in some past life somewhere. the guy i was sure saw me.

i’m sorry my disease riddled mind made me too difficult to deal with. i wish i could have been better for you, i really do.

i think my tumblr is scientific evidence for bpd mood swings

i fear humans like a street dog. rejection after rejection, hurt after hurt, it all gets too much for my already crowded mind.

dez told me to try to put myself out there again in some way or another. and i have, i am trying. not very hard granted; i still am in this safe haven of social isolation and overworking myself in school.

but i have found someone that has proven that strangers can be kind, pure even, and is trying to steer my western brain back towards the light of the east again. he will never know the true weight of the words he writes with, and how i await responses with my tail thwapping against my bed. teeth smiling, not bared.

I just feel so ugly inside and out.