INFP As Words

“All I want is a connection in which I receive the same amount of effort as I put in. For once, I don’t want to be drained because I give my everything to someone who can’t even appreciate me.”

- 3am overthinker

Write about butterflies, write about your morning, write about the cup of chai you had, write about your crush that doesn't text you back. Write anything you love or colur like red and blue, cus eventually that will be yours, the true you

“Even amidst the hatred and carnage, life is still worth living. It is possible for wonderful encounters and beautiful things to exist.”

— Hayao Miyazaki

The Goldfinch - Carel Fabritius (1654)

A goldfinch is sitting on its feeder, chained by its foot. Goldfinches were popular pets, as they could be taught tricks like drawing water from a bowl with a miniature bucket.This is one of the few works we know by Fabritius. He painted the goldfinch with clearly visible brushstrokes. He depicted the wing in thick yellow paint, which he scratched with the handle of his brush.

ive got rejected by every colleges that ive applied to and here i am, wondering what i will write on autobiography

"i wanted this...... that day i learned that life isnt always fair"

is it just me or do everyone delete their posts because the holy spirit slapped some sense into you and you're not the same person you were 10 minutes ago

thinking about Kait Rokowski writing, "nothing ever ends poetically, it ends and we turn it into poetry. all that blood was never once beautiful. it was just red." and losing it

Me

i gave up, on me

im my only mine

and i gave up on me.

i have no value

and there's no worth to me

my efforts & my work

has proven nothing to me

stranger in the mirror

becoming more unappealing to me

i was my only mine

and i gave up on me

we were great together

for brief of time

it was a fun 'we'

i wasted our time

like gold but free

guess I'll never know myself

and whats holding me back

is this the voice of someone else?

or a deliberate devil inside of me?

well, i should not bother

and get used to things

as they are, maybe.

because, it's my ability

to not change, and waste my youth

probably.

its snowballing downwards

absorbing and destroying everything

the end won't be peaceful

the end won't be prettty

i owe my life to someone else

there is nothing in me

i was my only mine

and i give up, on me

the amount of relativity this post has to me

“I write because I’m poor, I write because words are all I own, I write because I’m tired of hollow talk”

Faceless bodies → Whisper of the Heart (1995)