#doubt Tumblr posts

  • “Love; According to the loveless” (Revised 11/30/20)


    We were parked near the shore

    where the moon sat over mountains

    the waves soothing sand

    under the stars ambience


    The raindrops racing down the visor

    heavy set, the thunder in my chest

    longing for a kiss,

    touched by the atmosphere

    complimented by our silence


    I caught a glimpse of your eyes

    cast towards mine

    with your pupils widened

    I couldn’t play it off,

    the feeling was too familiar to us.


    This moment was shortly lived

    but to the brim

    I learned to love the rain

    and how to heal heartbreak


    I let you slip

    into another’s hand

    hoping you have learned

    the lessons I have


    It never gets any easier

    getting my hopes up

    or showing love in the capacity I do


    But I don’t grow any colder

    as for the mountain doesn’t crumble

    the tide still comes and goes

    seasons will recycle

    and the moon still casts its light


    I will let my face glow

    as much as it did

    for those five years


    Because everybody deserves

    the warmth that life can bring

    no matter what it takes away

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  • The fateful encounter that I grabbed a hold of by chance, as if there was a red string tied on my pinky that connected solely to yours. I wave, my lips curl, and I run to you, a total stranger, but somehow familiar. From casual chit-chat in the same math class, to eating together at the break of dawn, then finally to playing video games together, leading us to sleep together in the dorm that belonged to you. The clock ticks and the length of our string shortens, bringing us closer than ever before. My feelings linger, growing stronger, and so do yours. Our red string of fate cuffs us together. With worry I ask if you’re okay with it, and you bring me to your warm embrace, “you’re my cute idiot, don’t ever think anything else besides being with me forever”. Our friends hear over and over our fangirling and fanboying of each others’ clumsy and cute bits. We love the feeling of being stuck on each others’ skins– as if we belong together and if there was ever a moment we were without one another, a gaping hole in our hearts would dig deep in our chest, aching for the heart we gave to one another to come back to its home. Never is there alone time– we don’t need it because what we need is each other to feel right. Your honeyed laughter resounds in the bedroom as you say that I’m a poison, and you’re intoxicated to me. I giggle as I flick your forehead, “silly, then you’re my drug and I’m addicted to you”. We age together like the most luxurious and the finest of wines. Sometimes we turn back to little kids in elementary school playing tag and performing cringe-worthy fortnite dances, sometimes we’d turn old and pat on each others’ backs, recalling all our precious memories and nodding to each others’ voices. Even when we behave like our normal age, study like hard-working students, we have fun together studying. We don’t even care how bad of grade or how good of a grade we got, because watching the other do work put up such an elegant painting that our brains get giddy and adds it to the collection of number 1039211 of our most precious memories. 

    Little did we know we were using up our happiness. The tsunami of covid came over us like a fever. Its waves hit hard, tearing us away from each other, and our red string lengthened to its limit– to the point of ripping, barely holding on. We struggle in the typhoon of the sea, viciously trying to swim our way up, but the waves show no remorse to our love as they pull our heads under and drown us until the world becomes black. Days without seeing each other overflow and into the unknown. In the trenches of my fears, I unknowingly distance myself, and you, like always, pull me back into your ray of sunshine. Morning comes and I’m doubting happiness again in my empty bed. Your lips gently turn into a smile, comforting me that “it’s okay, we’ll see each other soon”, but behind this light I’m still worried, overthinking your every words– the only pieces I have of you now. Nobody is at fault, but I apologize for doubting happiness.

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  • Is it normal to doubt a 7 year relationship? I’m so confused

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  • What if I hurt him more? What if I don’t feel the same the next year? I don’t trust in my feelings, what the fuck do I do?

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  • Ok my bro say that there are different 38 pants depend of the company that made it, BUT I DONT GET IT, 38 IS 38 is a specific measure so please teach me this irrationallity i dont get. Please give me answers

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  • I’m always there when someone’s falling but who’ll be there for me to catch me?

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  • image

    Doubtitty the maximalist

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  • Reposted from @tfiremusic FIGHTERS! Also be sure to check out the music video for #Doubt. 🤘
    (Link in Story)

    #FMMusicManagement
    https://www.instagram.com/p/CIIzyiyHfHl/?igshid=uykeohd898op

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  • Short summary of upcoming fanfic that is a fake Journey Into Imagination animated movie:

    2 original characters, Dr. Kendrick Smith and his wife Geraldine, take Figment home from the Imagination Institute due to the fact that he can no longer stay there due to budget cuts in the wake of the coronavirus pandemic. Their 6 kids befriend Figment of course. Then Doubt rears its ugly head and the 4 oldest Smith siblings have to team up with Dreamfinder and Figment to stop it before things get worse.

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  • I can’t possibly have DID right? Hah, like…my trauma wasn’t that bad. I don’t have that bad of amnesia. Pffft, my therapist totally misunderstood. I’m fine I’m fine. Can’t be DID, that would mean…

    Well we all know what that would mean and I am incredibly terrified….

    Help please

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  • 1. It will have Doubt from the Disney Kingdoms Figment 2 comics in it but it won’t be a direct adaptation of the comics’ storyline.

    2. There will be quite a few OCs filling out the cast (most of them part of one family). My fantasy voice cast for these OCs will be revealed when I post the first chapter on fanfiction.net.

    3. I am writing it the way it will wind up not only to be entertaining but as my way of coping with the Covid19 pandemic since while it doesn’t always seem like it, I do need to remind myself that the toughest times won’t last forever.

    4. My fantasy voice cast for the canon characters:

    Ron Schneider as Dreamfinder

    David Goelz as Figment

    Eric Idle as Nigel Channing

    Anthony Warlowe as Doubt

    I will reveal the full summary later. 

    #writing stuff#my fanfiction #journey into imagination #figment#dreamfinder#doubt #dr nigel channing
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  • Being in med school, I’ve had to deal a lot with doubting myself.

    Like when I failed an exam for the first time.

    And for the second time.

    And if I had a dollar for every time I’ve felt like I wasn’t smart enough or others way were better, then I wouldn’t even need an education.


    I’ve come to the conclusion that these doubts are deeply rooted within myself. Maybe it’s my childhood. People judging silently and then inevitably leaving. Or my teenage years where basically the same thing happened, just even more subtly and slowly.


    That now leaves me feeling like a non-functioning semi-adult. Even though I do function. Like a robot. Shutting off all my feelings all they long until I eventually collapse.


    I’m so convinced that I’m gonna end up alone that I’ve stopped trying.

    I’m so convinced people are going to pull away eventually that I’ve stopped trying.

    I’m so convinced I’m never going to successfully graduate medical school that I’ve stopped trying.


    And there seems to be no way out of this terrible circle of emotions.

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  • Is it me? Am I the problem? Or is it the rest of the world? Surely if the entire world gives me the feeling of being worth nothing, they can’t be wrong, can they?

    Being punched in elementary school, for being an immigrant. For being different.

    Being laughed at by my cousins, for liking other things than them. For being different.

    Being circled out by my friends in high school, for not being as cool as them. For being different.


    Whenever I think life is getting better, something or someone comes along and pushes me right back to where I’ve started. I’ve changed my personality so many timea to accommodate others, that I don’t even know who I truly am.


    So how can people like me when I can’t stand myself?

    When I can’t stand my nose?

    When I can’t stand the hair on my body?

    When I can’t stand my belly rolls?

    When I can’t stand my frizzy hair?

    When I have been told by the world many times in different variations that I’m just not good enough?

    That I’m just not pretty enough.

    That I’m just not smart enough.

    That I’m just not funny enough.


    Why do I continue being surprised that people pull ever when I start getting close to them? It’s just life at this point.


    Will I ever be truly happy with just myself?

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  • As a kid I would always shrug off a compliment simply by saying “haha, as if” or “you are better!”. It’s funny how that just kinda hits when you seriously start doubting yourself about whether you are actually good enough anymore. If what other people say is true why can’t YOU see it? 

    But you try to keep on pushing for everyone but no one seems to understand you in spite everything. But then maybe it’s your fault for not explaining. Maybe you are the one not trying. It feels fake, almost as if you are detached from everyone and everything. If you “don’t try” people think you are lazy or you are trying but not hard enough. 

    I get that I need to work harder but sometimes I just need a person to just pat my shoulder and say “It’s okay, you did great today and you should rest” because I know for a damn fact that no one has said that since the day I have been born.

    It’s hard but there’s someone for you there….you may not even know that person yet but that person is out there and they care. You have to wait for them, be patient and I’m sure it’ll be worth your wait.

    I can never say I get understand how you feel because I don’t know you or your situation personally , but we can get help and get better. Sometimes we think there is no point or there’s no use but just wait for a bit. Please hold on a bit longer. I promise you things get better. Maybe I’m a nobody to you but if my existence can stop you from hurting yourself, I’ll take the chance.

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  • “Now Samuel had died, and all Israel had mourned for him and buried him in Ramah, his own city. Saul had expelled the mediums and the wizards from the land. The Philistines assembled, and came and encamped at Shunem. Saul gathered all Israel, and they encamped at Gilboa. 

    When Saul saw the army of the Philistines, he was afraid, and his heart trembled greatly. When Saul inquired of the LORD, the LORD did not answer him, not by dreams, or by Urim, or by prophets. 

    Then Saul said to his servants, ‘Seek out for me a woman who is a medium, so that I may go to her and inquire of her.’ 

    His servants said to him, ‘There is a medium at Endor.’ ” 

    - 1 Samuel 28:3-7 NRSV (1989)

    #scripture#bible verse#religion#king saul#prophets#magic#sorcery#spirits#divination #when God is silent #philistines#war#fear#doubt#dreams #1 samuel 28 #1 samuel 28:4 #1 samuel 28:6 #1 samuel 28:7 #new revised standard version
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  • The Vats (a poem)

    The vats, or puddles say, as many as clouds a day.

    The vats, of these two I speak, one for float, and one to sink.

    The vat, turns out, the boats’ hull does hole or whole, and in that the difference sorely make.

    One called belief, and one called doubt, into dip, and into shape.

    But warned sailors be, stay in one long too steep, and nothing left of was will keep.

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  • I have just been trying to paint a self-portrait (five hours later). It’s the sort of face which, if it was peering out between the shoulders of two people in a crowd painting, one would notice and say ‘that’s rather a good face’ but as it is, the sole subject of the painting, it crumples up with embarrassment at its own shabbiness. I tell you what’s wrong with it: I’m not putting my whole heart into it so that the poor face is dying through lack of love.

    — Celia Paul, Self-Portrait (Jonathan Cape, November 7, 2019)

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