Life is like Sisyphus's punishment. When you feel like you're reaching the top, the boulder rolls down crushing you.
nobody cares about how you FEEL, UNTIL you make them FEEL how they made you FEEL
When an actor talks and there’s no one to hear him, is he still an actor?
Everyday I used to wake up
with an invisible ache, with
the hollow space that you left,
burns through the entirety of
my sane, - that even forgetting
about you is a pain, consuming
me everyday until I get insane,
it still hurts just the same,
and maybe because the reason why
I'm in pain is because that it's
still you that I keep within.
Semjase Luo Yi 9: 29 am / 09-17-21
Foreword: the following poem, untitled, is not well written. I can see that, now. However, adjudicating the emotion put to words, to whatever literary standard, is solely a testimony of my own robotization. Every word you will read hereafter originated from a place far purer than my mind, and in significance outweighs any line I have ever conceived since consciously writing poetry:
“I love you
Have had enough of this distance ‘tween us Our lips, not pressed together Hours wasted in your absence
Separated are our bodies However, isolated From each other's love We are not
Never shall our soul bond break
Even though we are Far away From each other Breathe my name and I shall hear
We will rendezvous in our dreams
For love, true love, knows No boundaries”
--- 17-9-2021, M.A. Tempels ©
Note to self: it is important to me to have this poem, here, archived, on this date. It is past midnight and the 17th. Your favourite number, I remember, was 71. It makes everything fall into place even more; having made one of the hardest decisions of my lifetime, it is good to feel, or fantasize, at least, you’re here with me. I found you...
When I wasn’t looking, yet needed you.
There we go again. Another torturous crush on a man so unattainable. Probably unavailable. I swear to God if he is single and even slightly interested, I will make a move. Because I am an adult and I can make bold decisions that are not reckless. But for now I will stay up and read his personal blog. Read some of it and I just know, I know he is the kind of guy I look for every time I swipe through guys on dating apps. But I also know this is not going to happen. So please, I deserve applause for willingly jumping in this fiery pit of desire and despair 👏
Maybe it’s how we can talk for hours about absolutely nothing, I still feel like I’ve just had the best conversation of my life.
Could yall help me with a username??
Just chose one / comment
taurside
darluvtea
willowtaur
ghiblitaur
Message me if you have any ideas 💗
~ Also a quote ~
Talking stages are dead.
Do u wanna date or not ?
a place can become so bitter just because of how people treated you there
I’ll never be her, look like her, act like her, so go be with her if that’s what you want so bad.
and if they blank out the sun with their arrows
then we will make our love in the shade
When your heart is coloured, certain actions of certain people will feel different- the change is subtle. Suddenly, you find yourself lingering at the fleeting silences between his & your words. You find yourself revisiting absences that never mattered to you, you are thinking of what matters to him. You will catch yourself smiling at any small inconspicuous 'hello's from him. And when the color of your heart fades away, guilt will rise within you like bile from the pits of your guts. Each text, photo, poem, feeling shared from then on will wash you with shame. When your heart turns colorless, you have ashes on your palms. You do not have the luxury to utter his name for you are so consumed in regret. You are happy, you say. Sisyphus laughs.
Mid-september sobriety
I have an obsession to be beautiful, and I hope one day I can be. Though from today, it doesn't look like I will ever be able to.
My hair has thinned from stress and medication, and my nose is large. My teeth are uneven, and there's nothing good to say about anything else on my face. It's skin is never clear, but it's not the worst either.
I'm relatively fat, I would say. It's not really obvious when you first look, but it gets obvious. I can't wear whatever I want.
There's a lot of fat stored in my thighs and butt, and there's nothing more to say. I just look bad. There are maybe some positives, but they are only microscopically visible, and only to me.
I really, really want to be beautiful. I want to have long hair I can tie back, and be slender, like wind and water. I want to look nice. Because I have seen everywhere that only beautiful people fall in love properly, and it's hard to escape into daydreams when you're ugly. Even in my imagination, I can't imagine myself as what I want to look like, as if it's bound to the painful fact of what I am.
I am sad today because only beautiful people fall in love, and I am not beautiful.
I'll try a bit everyday, to be more beautiful.
No one told us that missing is the cost that good moments have....
- Mario Benedetti.
I think it's beautiful how we meet people only when the universe thinks it's a perfect timing to collide two hearts in a symphony. And how all of a sudden love is not just an emotion, but rather life itself.
I think it's beautiful that we find something, some place, someone, and our soul goes like... “There you are. There you've always been, and I was foolish enough to search you somewhere else. "
—I was on a call with him and I realised. (ar.muse)
A simple “I’m sorry you’re right, i can see why you feel that way” could go a long way.
"You promised me flowers but all you gave me was pain."
CW // Mentions & description of drowning albeit metaphorically & references to suicide ideation.
Did It Hurt?
Did it hurt when your reality did not meet your expectations?
You have looked forward to this moment since forever and now that the moment has arrived, things are not as you have perceived. Now reality is anchoring you down, drowning you without anyone to lend a hend and save you... Oh and you do not know how to swim. Cause you have been so busy trying to be the perfect child, the perfect student, the perfect mould of whatever they wanted you to be that it never even crossed your mind that swimming lessons are even necessary. It would be so easy to just stop desperately kicking your feet to keep yourself afloat. All you need to do is just let go; let the water claim your body and soul, let your lungs be filled by water and burn all of your senses, let them all realize how taxing it was for you to keep holding on to seemingly nothing... But you do not. You keep going anyway. You keep kicking. Let yourself swim to the surface with only your head sticking out of the waters. You are exhausted beyond your limits. For whose sake do you keep on fighting? At this point, all you have is murky waters you call your thoughts. Are they friends or are they foes? Who is to say. All you know is you keep on fighting anyway.
So, did it hurt?
– an excerpt from my own jumbled mind 🧠
Either you care about me or you don’t. There’s no in between. You can’t pretend to care one day and forget the next day.
