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Spilled Thoughts - Blog Posts
Ghostly figures
dancing, swaying
on long forgotten music
Lost lovers
unite once more
Families
laugh and play
As time slowly ticks away
(2021)
This is my first time posting on tumblr, please be kind
Lol I hope I did this right
Pls enjoy <3
Spilled Thoughts
...I’m tired.
Not physically, but in an emotional way...
I feel like I hide too much...
From friends,
From family,
From everyone...
...I’m tired of this mask...
When can I take it off?...
Why is kindness such a rarity?
Who made it abnormal to treat another human as if they actually are a living, breathing being?
What caused us to retreat so far into ourselves that we don’t notice the pain around us?
When did we become like this?
...and how can we change it?
False Guilt
It’s easier to think,
That you are a monster born broken,
Rather than a human made flawed.
I am the hungry beast waiting outside your window, I'll chew off my own leg before I admit I'm starved though
Mitski Abbey // Daniel M. Lavery How To Respond To Criticism // Caroal Lee To Die For // Liv Ullmann Changing // Ethel Cain Strangers //Orson Scott Card // Mitski Shame // Pat the Bunny I'm not a good person // Mitski Humpty // Maggie Nelson Bluets // Charles Bukowski Ham on Rye // Sylvia Plath the unabridged journals of sylvia plath // Jenna Barton
if today was my last
If today was my last How would I spend it? would I take in all the little things, gathering all those little details that I have always missed, my head has always been too full of all these things that keep me up at night. Or would I still just float through it all Still just a shell of the kid I once was, all the vibrancy and wonder having left years ago.
Would I go to the library? to collect a few last lines Letting them live on the tip of my tongue. only to set them free with my last breath. letting the feeling of ink on the page, be the last thing my fingertips will feel. the smell of paper and secrets, invading my senses and welcoming me home at last.
Would I go to the school that has hallways I have haunted? having drifted through them, my eyes empty and my brain always too full with all those thoughts. stopping in the classes to whisper a few final goodbyes even though nobody would notice or hear me pausing the disorder and energy in those hallways, for just a few moments, finally letting myself take it all in.
would I go to the forest wherein the deepest part I could lie on its soft grass floor, in the utter calm of it letting my lungs finally breathe in the crisp air, the feeling of its coldness expanding within them. closing my eyes for the last time, finally letting myself feel at peace and safe, hearing the bird's singing floating around me, their cries being the last thing I will ever hear.
My last words will be uttered so softly that not even the wind would hear them, when they escape this prison of my mind, floating away with my final exhale. My last breath will flow out feeling free for the first time, escaping into the world seeing it all.
to the sea
Take me to the sea. Where the air is crisp, and the smell of salt clings to it. Where the winds pull in the sound of the waves to the shore where I can finally hear them calling my name begging me to join them begging me to follow them into the deepest depths
Take me to the cliffs. where I can see the whole world in front of me with the deep sapphire sea stretching out to the horizon where it finally ends on the cliffs where the winds whip around me whispering those words of encouragement beckoning me to the edge telling me to take those last few steps To let those jagged rocks at the bottom welcome me home.
Take me to the forest. Where the trees swallow all the light leaving only the darkness to call my name inviting me to explore The air seems to be alive, swirling around me. Calling to me telling me to rest coaxing me to let the darkness and all the creatures in To let them devour me, control me. To guide me and welcome me home
dear adora, from elliott
To the little girl, I used to be do you remember all those nights when you would stay awake Thinking and dreaming up all those far away hopes and dreams You would stare up at the ceiling planning out how you would do it all
All those late nights Planning on how you would save the day Becoming that perfect superhero Swooping in to rescue everyone, Saving all the kittens from trees, Putting out fires Freeing your family from that living nightmare they would never wake from
Remember all those promises you would use to make Between you and the world outside that shitty apartment window Telling yourself it would get better, rehearsing it so much it was branded in your heart and brain Telling yourself those thoughts would go away That you could wake up And be the perfect daughter You would wake up and be a girl and believe it Your body would no longer feel so wrong
Spending all those nights and early mornings Praying to that god you were so hopelessly clinging to Begging him to make it all make sense Those thoughts stuck circling in your head All the worries and fears that had kept piling up Tangling themselves together
What would you think of me now if you saw who you became Would you be proud? Proud that I finally found myself That I had finally realized who I was Would you be happy? Happy that I had made it this far, Being able to finally make it to sixteen, even though you didn’t?
I guess you had been right when you thought you wouldn’t make it For me to make it, you had to die That I had to kill everything that you were Stealing away your name Cutting off those long curly locks, everyone had adored scarring that beautiful skin, that used to be your pride and joy
mama don’t you know
Mama, don’t you know your little baby is sitting in their room? Crying their eyes out screaming for help Screaming for you to help them Begging for you to love them for who they are
Mama, can’t you see the way they're pleading? How their pleading for you to love them For you to finally tell them they're good enough For you to please noticed this once how much they need you.
Mama, do you ignore the blank stares and the emptiness? The way they wear barcodes on their body How no matter how much they try, they can't get you to love them
Mama, do you ignore all the blood and tears? Pretending you don't hear them crying out at night Acting like you don't notice the blood and bandages.
Mama do you spend your days looking for new ways to hurt them? You filled their heart with all your spite and hatred. Poisoning your little baby before they had a chance to grow Making them believe they were a weed Never let them be able to believe in anything else.
TRUTH UNTOLD - by Joud Aburashed
I have so much to say But the world might decay Fear hurts not as much as regret So I sharpen my sword ready to strike For my words are a weapon filled with might I look into the eyes of those souls Who were taught to keep their words behold Reassurance floods as for me I'm bold This is a new chance For righteousness to breed and enhance Something weighs on my shoulder It burns like ice yet even colder So I release Finally feeling relief This wasn't a war This was for peace For what is most valuable to me My morals that run glee So speak up for what you believe You might feel relief
i know i’m super late to the party but i finally got my hands on a jjk light novel and wow. new angst material
Power No More
Insecurities come crashing down
As I bang on the drums to drown out the sound.
You think you can hide it oh so well
The looks you give me
When light is no longer there
and there is darkness in my eyes.
You fail to see
I’m not like the others before me
I won't run to you
I won't give in to the call.
I will do this right
I won’t cower under your gaze no more.
I will be different than how I once was
You will lose the power you once held from your finger tips
As I finally decide I’ve had enough
A list of all my short works in one place.
Links to some of my reflective posts! I'll be updating this whenever I post a new one.
The Letter
One Last Time
The Extension
When I First
The one I love the most
Broken vase
The Bus stop
Her
The Puzzle
Sitting here at this table, I watched her work behind the counter. Her eyes travelled around the room but never in the direction I was sitting in. I knew what she was thinking without having to ask because the same thought filled my mind.
I sat next to her in this seat, my laptop open. Her legs were intertwined with mine —a desperate attempt for us to keep warm in the cold weather. She was reading a poem I had written for her as I watched her eyes trail the laptop screen. A smile had kept growing on her face till she reached the last line and it stayed long after she'd finished.
Her face was blank, emotionless —but her eyes held the kind of sorrow and longing which had become a part of my everyday routine.
I shouldn't have come here but I wished to talk to her one last time, and always one last time.
maybe i am a tortured poet but like, with sprinkles on it and stuff
i'm afraid everything i've ever felt was all consuming so no, i can't be normal about this
Tho you making a bad choice is the only hope I have of you choosing me.
Life tells me I must grow from sadness and sorrow… and I ache from the wound that I caused myself from loving too much.
Crippling loneliness in the age of the internet:
"Why do people have to be this lonely? What's the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?"
~Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart (1999)
Let me set the scene:
In a dark room, the only light is coming from the phone of a girl laying on the bed, as she mindlessly scrolls for hours on end. She is typing fast, she is running multiple apps in the background, she is listening to the latest hits while doing all of this, her earphones never leave her ears; even when she closes her eyes, she is still listening to a podcast. Despite all these activities happening around her. The girl looks bored and apathetic, her eyes are blank, no emotions, no thoughts. And for hours to come she stays in that state, waiting for something to happen, even if it doesn't, she doesn't care.
This could be the opening lines of a sci-fi novel but this is actually how I act when I am alone. This is how my life has become. And while people like to blame this on the internet that has made Gen Z mindless zombies; I think the only reason I haven't died is because of the internet. To normal people it's a curse that makes humanity fall to its lowest. To me it gave a purpose, a want and a direction to live for.
The Internet isn't the evil mastermind to me, it's a necessity that has kept me alive and not succumbing to the fact I have no one to talk with.
Internet to me isn't Instagram, Snapchat, Discord,Twi--X (someone stop Elon Musk from cooking), it's the "quirky" apps like Pinterest, Tumblr and Reddit as well as the depths of content that is YouTube. It's the places where I found "my" people who understood me, who accepted me, who appreciated me. Growing up I had no one to talk with, even my own family wasn't understanding, let alone my friends.
During my school life I had always been surrounded by friends or as I like to put it, people I can talk to and have lunch with during school hours. That's what it was, nothing more than that. My idea of friends was just different from others, I didn't want emotional connection or people to hang out with. I wanted friends who would listen to my ramblings and be able to debate and discuss things with.
I don't want to seem pretentious or snobbish and definitely not above others in any way. But....when I am surrounded by so many frustratingly stupid people, I don't have any other words to describe them than "not good enough for me". They may be wonderful people, who are warm and lively. I do not care about being around such people. I am someone that watches video essays on morality, ethics, philosophy and analysis of movies and TV, in comparison to the people I know I am just more perceptive and thoughtful and that alone makes me seem like a stranger to them (INTPs are weird in short form). My dad told me smart people have it hard to make friends because of this exact nature, I wouldn't call myself incredibly intelligent but I know I am far more capable in thinking than my classmates who watch reality TV shows and Tiktok dances. Sometimes I cannot even comprehend how people can even get satisfaction and happiness from something as simple as that and that's when I understand: it's okay to be different than that and it's okay that they are "normal".
I feel like I am Lain from "Serial Experiments Lain", as if my existence is given meaning by the internet and I was born from it. My lack of social interactions in person can be explained by that, but it's the thought of talking with other people that often scares me. I am used to being silent, so much so that even on the internet, I remain quiet, not interacting with people who might understand me. Being afraid of not being understood has stopped me from even trying to make connections when there's people ready to do that.
I don't even reply to comments on my posts, unless I have to and I don't talk with anyone on the internet itself. I just watch and be happy at other people's interactions and feel a sense of belonging.
For some days I decided to stop doing that, to stop the vow of silence. To let people approach me and approach others myself. I want to be friends and it's the only thing that I have ever considered as something I couldn't achieve.
Loneliness isn't as pretty as the movies and books tell you. It's more of a psychological thriller than a show like Euphoria and Skins where these stylised depictions make my depression and loneliness appear cool. It's cool to be alone, to have my own space and not cross boundaries but it's not cool to let the loneliness that shields me, devour me.
i would waste every wish in my life on you if i knew they would come true.
notes app poetry for the sad girls
Heres a silly little poem!
You love them, You want them, but you could never reach them.
Will you still love them after their face is no longer obscured?
Will you still want them after the filter that once sheltered the laughable features is absent?
Honesty is always present, favorable or not.
It is always there, waiting for the moment to obstruct them.