I Think It’s One Thing To Be Born A Pessimist And Have Heartbreaking Experiences That Confirm Your

When you decide to touch a woman

Remember who gave you hands

When you crush her with words

Remember who gave you a tongue

When her heart cracks open and flows like a red river

Remember who will make your heart stop

(I hope God cuts off every part of you that was used to hurt a woman)

𝒃𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒚 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒉

“The way people treat you is a statement of who they are as a human being. It’s not a statement about you.”

— Unknown

You take in the image; the bed that I sit in is a throne of safety. Your eyes are disappointed. Mine are enthralled. You ask, "what's the matter?" I tell you, "you know." You ask, "what can I do?" I tell you, "you know." The crescendo of metal from the chair excites me, and you are on your knees begging, "what can I do?" I rest my palm on your sweat soaked crown, and my final response - "you need to get your shit together." The echo of your cries mix with my empty laughter as the wolves remove you. It is followed by silence broken only by the dull dripping sound of saline against nylon. Ah, it's time for meal number five.

January 19, 2021

“Because a song can take you back instantly to a moment, or a place, or even a person. No matter what else has changed in you or the world, that one song stays the same, just like that moment. Which is pretty amazing, when you actually think about it.”

— Sarah Dessen

“One has either to take people as they are, or leave them as they are. One cannot change them, one can merely disturb their balance. A human being, after all, is not made up of single pieces, from which a single piece can be taken out and replaced by something else.” - Franz Kafka, Letters to Felice‎

In a world

it all came to a halt.

Unbreathing,

disrupted time,

it can no longer flow.

In this world

we are alone,

grasping,

pushing,

climbing—

falling—

Or are we?

Thus we wonder

“what is life?”

In my world

I begin clutching at my chest,

sheltering my heart,

wishing to live

one more day.

Here I hide,

running from what,

you say?

All.

All that breathes

while I cannot.

All that feels,

while I bear its weight.

All that smiles,

for I do not know how.

“I suggest that the only books that influence us are those for which we are ready, and which have gone a little farther down our particular path than we have yet got ourselves.”

—

E. M. Forster (1879-1970) English novelist, essayist, critic, librettist

“But just because you’re strong and resilient doesn’t mean you never need someone to be there for you, to take care of you.”

— Tammara Webber

"I had a room to myself as a kid, but my mother was always quick to point out that it wasn't my room, it was her room and I was merely permitted to occupy it. Her point, of course, was that my parents had earned everything and I was merely borrowing the space, and while this is technically true I cannot help but marvel at the singular damage of this dark idea: That my existence as a child was a kind of debt and nothing, no matter how small, was mine. That no space was truly private; anything of mine could be forfeited at someone else's whim."

Carmen Maria Machado, from In the Dream House

“Have you ever sat there, looking into space and feeling a tight grip wrapped around your heart, it’s squeezing and squeezing not allowing you to breathe and slowly slowly you start to feel the tears fall down, and one after another the fits start to happen and you just can’t stop it. It hurts so bad it’s indescribable. People say love hurts, but that words used are so vague, “love hurts”, no love kills, and it doesn’t just take your breath away it takes away a piece of you, making you feel fragmented, shattering you into small different pieces where you can’t even get yourself back up on track again. That is what love is. Not the holding hands, forehead kisses. It’s the feeling you feel when you break down into a million pieces. It’s when you can feel your heart shatter against your rib cage. It’s murder. That is love.”