final thoughts, today:
- I probably know why Americans hate on Canadians
- I love rediscovering my favorite tumblr people.
- I am bitter, though more level-headed. But forgiving will be hard.
- There are things that are happening, and I’m not sure how to deal with the fact that I know they are happening. There is also no one with whom I can talk about it all.
- I don’t know why you’ve become so hostile, I wish it would stop. With all the angry words, you’re saying less and less.
- …I’ll go watch/finish an old film or perhaps a funny tv show.
brains, hearts, organs & limbs, skin, stomach, brain.
I sincerely hate anger.
It comes to remind us of things that we already know,
and have long been trying to ignore.
It signifies the passing of time and the shortness of laughter
it warns us of familiar mistakes, and life: ratified and non-stopping
regardless of preferences.
It reminds us that alone, we’re poor.
We’re sad, and saddening to the onlooker’s eye,
incapable of standing alone,
unable to call our deepest thoughts our own.
Anger reminds us that independence is an illusion,
security and control, all invented words, crafted.
Power, a term for gauging and for physics, not possession
It reminds us vulnerable, palpable and affected.
Anger is theft, experiencing stolen-ness.
of Understanding, objects, truth, trust, chances.
Silently, it kills. Loudly, too.
No bad news go unnoticed, no bad side goes un-woken.
brokenness is welcomed and help, unspoken
all is on the table, and victims feast,
unable to be satisfied by anything besides the absolute immediate.
have you ever been so pissed off at someone that you want to cry?
like not even sad, or heartbroken, or anything.
Just so disgusted and annoyed and wanting to punch them in the face that, out of nowhere you feel the same way as when you’re just about to start crying?
reblogging for relevance. He laughed when I told him that I couldn’t see straight. I was being literal.
I love writing and tumblr-ing at the same time late at night until my head clears from exhaustion.
I hate it, also.
A conversation between me, myself, and God, within my heart and mind.
I really like having best friends. But the thing about it is, you’re so comfortable being the person you’ve always been with them, that you don’t even know if that’s personality is still like…working, pragmatically now. But you don’t want to change, but what if you actually need to? But what if you also don’t know anything else, and maybe you actually need to? But the new, you can’t experience it because it would have to be happening with everything else and everyone else in your life that’s also new and strange, and so it’s scary and practically impossible.
and then, but what if, you actually find one new person, that is new but you actually connect and things are good, and the friendship is amazing, and you could see yourself coming/experiencing that new thing, but then again, you’re not even sure if that’s still the right thing?
Why do you even need to change in the first place? What is it that’s making you feel like what you are right now isn’t good enough? Stop listening to the lies. You are who you are, maybe different degrees, maybe sometimes altogether different. so what if people sometimes like that time when you’re altogether different more than when you’re being the regular? Do they matter more than you matter to yourself? Do they matter more than you matter to God, the creator and father and almighty? More than He matters to you? No. Certainly not. So stop fretting geez. Besides can’t you see He even loved you enough to bless you with that one new friend who things are good with? So that with that one good friend what others think doesn’t seem to matter at all? Isn’t that what friendship is supposed to feel like?
Isn’t it? but why do I still feel “guilty”, “insecure”, “incorrect” around those other, more populous, more present people? Those I love, those I grow with, those with whom I was introduced to learn…
My head isn’t in the right place. You continue to SEEK acceptance, to disreguard the love that’s already there and everlasting, unconditional and overflowing. You refuse to prize your God above other things, and to dedicate all to Him, that makes all things, and that makes all things beautiful. Offer them all up to Him, to the God of Hosts and Wonders, just let them all go, don’t think it over, don’t overanalize, just let him have control. Let yourself enjoy the show. He IS lord after all; He Is.
listen to beautiful music, appreciate your beautiful people, earn your beautiful education, and do it all, remembering He is the one that creates it all, remembering who it is all for.
The great I Am.
Have you ever been so close to a person? Closer than you ever thought you could even be?
and then, been told you weren’t allowed there?
Das Leben im Universität ist lebensüberdrüssig
I would love to starve myself and look like the kind of person who is just so connected to the deeper, trippier, darker aspects of life of my five and perhaps six senses and has that glazed, entrancing allure to all who see
But with my engineering curriculum, I can only afford the time it takes to find a connection with my sense of taste and my sense of sight.
So I eat a lot of really yummy food, and spend late nights scrolling through tumblr.
I guess there is also something to be said for my random dance party to amazing music, and the weird looks I get when walking with my earphones in, but I can’t pretend the connection there is much more than a barrier against awkward encounters on my way to class/gym/clubmeetings/work.
Here comes the works part of coming back home.
Not being sure how to adapt.
Unable to deny how much messier it is.
Trying not to get in my head and believe life and its mess will always follow you around.
Wanting to go back. Wanting..Needing to stay.
and I’ll have roses flying around my head,
but you won’t see them.
I’ll have doves’ melodies ringing in my ear,
you won’t hear them.
all those memories shied away,
you scared them.
for now, I’ll stay.
so last night I had this terrible dream where my Dad died. This wasn’t the first time I had such a dream but this time was definitely one of the worst. I woke up with a sob in the back of my throat.
Dear dad, you can seriously be uber-frustating/annoying/ridiculous sometimes, but. I still love you, and I need you not to die. Okay? okay.
these weird-ass dreams I be havin’. when I’m sick with a cold, and napping on a FAUX leather couch,
and on my monthly