been thinking about friendship breakups lately/
have you ever wondered how are we able to open up the depths of our souls to people and then one day we eventually forget them? do you find it strange too?
friendship irrevocably changes us forevermore. i am so enamored with anecdotes that portray friendship as something soft. like isn't it so cool how your friends make your lonely world less lonely ? how can you insist me to not call it love ? love is real.
that's why I totally hate it when we stop being friends with someone like why have we stopped caring about their routine suddenly? does her pet not miss me ?
you find a song and you send it to your friend saying, "it reminded me of you." they just happened and suddenly you don't remember what a life is without them. they don't find you weird because they're just as weird or more like, 10x weird. a good thing happens and you have to tell them but you're telling me you ain't friends with them anymore. you must be kidding me so yeah, i am totally trying to be okay with the fact that humans fade in and fade out of each other's lives.
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sad beautiful tragic //
i wish i wrote the way i thought. i wish the words came easily to me. the sky has no motion. it is alone tonight. silence knocks and the answer is silence itself. i am trying to sing the blues but what is it that is coming out of my mouth? what is?
i am sad and there is a music to this sadness. lately i am alone with echo of this song. i am not afraid of change. i am scared of all the things that we can't change. i'm just lost in the puzzle of the teenage mind. my eyelids sag, heavy with sleep. you won't find any light inside my eyes. i often find myself turning to incog tabs to ask questions which apparently google doesn't have the answers to. when you are in the middle of a really bad dream, when you're listening to the bridge of illicit affairs and feeling a weird kinda sad comfort, do not stop. don't stop even though everything seems to decay. don't let your thorns get you. don't cry listening to that bridge even though it tears you apart. just don't. don't let it wither you. take your time because what is hurting you right now is gonna pass soon. that's all i've for now because it's pretty to think that we are gonna be alright.
CIAO!-
and i could write a thousand poems about how i want to change my life but i am not doing anything so what good would that do??
i have gotten into a funny routine lately but today was definitely a nice day. i woke up feeling like fresh and sweet mahogany.
the sky was bright.
i looked cute.
started demon slayer and felt alive.
i have become a quirky cat over years for i socialize like a cat.
i, no, longer urge to string a sentence in a beautiful way for i have forgotten how to write these days but today felt like all the alternative meanings for a nice, positive day.
and i am saying all of this because i read something in the morning and it said "perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing & crying, eating of the last sweet bite."
it felt nice and i couldn't be happier! and am still so happy.-
JUNE/
june knows that love is full of colors for it has us falling in love again.
even june has a crush on a girl.
she planted her heart into the heavy earth. she could write a hundred poems about this girl who she finds beautiful. she knows that the ferris wheel is stuck at the bottom. she knows she carries a strange sense of joy somewhere in the middle of euphoria and daze, of distance and proximity. she is beautiful. her smile can make time stand still. she had been faking it all for she had seen the faces turn up in disgust when she said she liked a girl. yellow was the colour of her vibe she radiated when she spoke in an exquisite manner. yes, she emits the light. she is a work of art. perhaps, that's wrongly put because art is subjective but even so, she knows that she is exactly as she was meant to be. she tore herself apart just to see if she was really this bold definition of inevitability of changes because she had always been that rainbow which was reflected from oil spills. now she is poetry written in cute turquoise. soft and bop.
so, you can say that she is what you thought she wasn't.-
truth be told, i am hardly ever able to
sort through my emotions.
any form of art in order to connect to people, has to be honest. when i write, i am honest because it's my way of processing things but these days i am not even opening up to paper because i constantly feel as if i don't have anything to say.
i am perplexed about what to say next?
i want to get things done but i don't want to do anything.
i talk pure bullshit, i stay awake till 1 am for no reason and i am happy about it.
why do we keep wanting to chase halley's comet when we can't even admire constellations?
i am the comet streaking through the sky on the way to happy things.
( read caption )
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//not a damsel in distress//
she lives in a small town. she ain't a damsel in distress. she trades her days for the sake of mere things.
she voices the stuffs that you didn't know were there for she lives with unreasonable passion for things.
( full piece in caption )-