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#past self
selfhealingmoments · 2 months
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@studiomeggy
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lunarhode · 5 months
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me asf with my favorite past version of me
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allegaury · 2 years
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"i miss the old you" of course you would. old me didnt know how to set boundaries and was easy to manipulate
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haleyincarnate · 1 year
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Many pieces of my past selves have been left behind. I once saw their loss as a trail of breadcrumbs I could one day follow back to who I once was, but over time, I’ve realized I am better off who I am now than then. I did not deserve to be hurt in such ways, however the person I became due to those fragments breaking off is a masterpiece in the making. Some days are just harder to see the sculpture hiding in the marble. But I’m damn sure going to keep carving it out.
I wish the same for you.
• Excerpt from the collection “Sick” by Jody Chan (@jodyr.chan)
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Last Night in Soho (2021), Edgar Wright//War of the Foxes, Richard Siken//Perfect Blue (1997), Satoshi Kon//Siren, Sunmi//The Truth About Grief, Fortesa Latifi//Chorus, Saul Williams//A Nice Quiet Place, F. Scott Fitzgerald//Black Swan (2010), Darren Aronofsky//silllllllllllll.da on instagram//Organs, Of Monsters and Men//La Femme de trente ans, Honoré de Balzac//Holly Warburton
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puppy--jam · 7 months
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When you decided to search about cartoons/games/whatever from your past and you discover something what you wish to forget.
I cannot believe that I as a child was watching so many shit.
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sadistic-softie · 2 months
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Sometimes I wonder how much more fucked up I would be if I had stayed in the closet...
"Aw- uh-What?! Phfft- *nervous laugh* D-don't be stupid, man! Why would I have a crush on a woman?! *Crosses arms, face turning red* That's gay as shit!! *Averting eyes, slouching* I just like her fucking style, ok?? J-Jeez...*quietly* I only like guys, alright? Dumbass... (>`///<;) "
^Legit how I acted when I was closeted :/
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asterthistle · 2 months
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another weird gender piece. understanding the way i experience(d) dysphoria has been largely a retrospective journey, but i often return to my 20-year-old ear worm: "suicide is painful" - ONSIND
when i was initially listening to that song, it was mostly about the grief of releasing my own pretensions about the kind of person i was and trying to figure out what it was that was gnawing at me so terribly. i am still very much answering those questions, but it feels much less daunting now. and i feel much more compassion towards myself, including who i once was, than i ever used to.
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satoguru · 14 days
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remember, you deserve better . dnt let urself be walked on by insignificant bitches that r below you ! 🌈⭐
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selfhealingmoments · 6 months
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healingviawords · 1 month
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Please stop attacking the past versions of you. They were doing their best with the resources they had. They got you to exactly where you are today. It's amazing how much progress you've made and how much you've grown but please don't think your past self lacked worth in any way.
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lunarhode · 5 months
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i'm nineteen human years old, i learn more yet i know less every day, but if you had told me at fifteen to run a country, i would have known exactly what to do and more.
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rinwreck · 5 months
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It is December again and I am once more consumed by these melancholy winter thoughts; except I know now how to tame them. Instead of hiding away myself I have taught me to conceal these thoughts. I have learned to put on a contrasting expression. Although it does make everyday a little easier, I do not know which is worse.
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//Fox in a winter field by Rien Poortvliet//
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demonontheroad · 2 months
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I just think it would be an interesting conversation
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lunacy4sunny · 26 days
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May you be loved, may you be free, may you be at peace.
Enfim, todos os astros, um por vez, deram a volta completa na constelação de Vênus. Ela lhe mostrou tesouros, maravilhas de um mundo imaginário, e cada engrenagem de seu belo relógio.
Quando a visita acaba, todos se foram, mas ela não chora. Seu coração permanece quente e maleável como ouro, capaz de aquecer e permear qualquer corpo gelado nos seus braços firmes.
No salão sobra apenas um convidado. Essa penumbra que um dia teve nome, rosto, mas agora não passa de um personagem. Com seu reflexo distorcido, ele perambula entre o passado e o futuro, destruindo aonde passa apagando seus rastros com a cauda de seu vestido.
Ela olha na altura de seus olhos, sem tocar a aura densa; exorciza aquela coisa como quem abraça um amigo distante e beija o inimigo em sua têmpora. "Você há de perder seu espaço nesse templo, se recusando a virar um homem, porque só aceita em ti mesmo a fome de uma besta abandonada. Encheu seu prato com lamentações e coisas belas, só para gritar de dor quando o veneno da vaidade atingisse seus ossos, te derrubando como um cachorro no chão desse palácio que um dia foi sua casa."
A princesa não mais carrega o espelho de sua alma, recusando aprisionar sua essência a troco de ser seduzida. Finalmente entendeu que o amor que sufocava seu peito nunca foi pelo homem, pela besta, ou ela miragem, mas pela sua própria aparência.
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