whether to hate her or love her
I was 11 when I first met her.
I Remember we were playing, me and my friends and she came up to me and said
“Can I play too?”
now I wasn’t the one who was gonna say no to a new friend.
and a new story started.
a story to never embed in the hearts.
Now we both weren’t exactly each other's closest personifications. But nonetheless, the spark grew, enough to start a fire. The kind of blazing fire that seems as if it would never burn out.
We started talking, we started to start to know each other and oh it was beautiful.
We shared everything, two peas in a pod.
me being the chaos and her being the charmer. We called ourselves best friends. But there was one word we liked to add, both of us didn’t know why or whether it was wholly true, “forever”.
it's a nice word if you hear it, speaks of itself as the ongoing process of no end.
cut to a fragment of years after the singing daisies and the heartfelt hugs.
I moved, not that far really just a couple of streets away but at the time we both made it seem as if we were going to be oceans apart.
we met though, every month if possible but you can’t really change destiny and well everything has its course.
How long can you make something yours if there’s not enough love left?
It was fine really at least it didn't end on bad terms, those fights that make you think why you ever made memories.
thinking back on lost nostalgia you also wonder if it all was ever worth it.
If the love that you gave or the heart that you preserved was ever really worth it?
not everything has shocking endings,
But not everything lasts forever as well.
Either death do you part or the destiny that comes along with it.
it didn’t end in drama or a fight, it just drifted till we didn’t even talk to each other anymore. I almost wish it ended in a fight so I didn’t have to go through the pain of losing her slowly.
I miss the time we laughed and hung out, sometimes I just wanna call her up and ask how she is doing but
I was the one who cut her off because I felt like I was being dragged down.
Everybody tells me it's better that way now,
but I'm sorry about all the inside jokes that no one will understand or some of my best memories that happened with her.
I feel sorry to lose my best friend,
but the worst part is that our history was so good it didn't deserve that kind of an end.
I would love to tell you that we stayed best friends,
but we won't even keep in touch,
All we had was those 2 years,
And we grew,
And we laughed,
And then
We outgrew each other.
And that’s okay.
maybe it isn’t okay now. But it will be.
it has to be.
we’re all temporary anyway,
We were never meant to last.🫀
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555
THANK GOD I CHANGE,
THANK GOD I PROGRESS.
INSTEAD OF STAYING IN A CAGE,
WITH IDEALS THAT REPRESS.
THANK GOD I AM NOTHING LIKE YOU.
YOU WHO REMAIN A STUBBORN MULE.
sometimes i feel like shouting this at people
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“I know flies in milk. Specks against white. I know I know it.
I know a man by his clothes. Even I know that much.
I know fair weather from foul. I know that.
I know the apple from the tree. That I know.
I know who labors and who loafs. I know all. All save myself.
I know all things. I know pink cheeks from wan.
I know death who devours all.
I know everything. Everything but myself”
Ballade by François Villon in Himizu (2011)
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L3T M3 R3ST 1N P34C3
I LIKED HOW IT LOOKED LIKE ON INSTAGRAM WITH A FILTER BUT I CANT DOWNLOAD THAT VERSION
I DIED VERY LONG AGO, AT THE MOMENT I WAS BORN
BUT GOD SAW ME AND DECREED MY MISERY BE PROLONGED
AND SO EACH DAY I DIE AGAIN FOREVERMORE
EVERY MINUTE PLAGUED BY PAIN AND UNEASE
PLEASE, FOR ONCE, JUST LET ME
REST IN PEACE
REST IN PEACE
REST IN PEACE
REST IN PEACE
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vi - thirst ; june prompts by @nosebleedclub
ID below:
[ID: An image of a poem. At the top is a title “HUNGER / THIRST” bolded and underlined. Below that, in italics and in a smaller font size, is a watermark that reads “@rydykg”. The poem reads:
THE HUNTER NEVER SLEEPS / THE PASTOR NEVER WEEPS
THERE’S ONE THING IN COMMON THERE:
WHERE WOULD THEY HAVE THE TIME FOR CARE?
A CYCLE OF SELF-DESTRUCTION / IN FAVOUR OF SELF-ACQUISITION
YOU EAT AND PLAY AND DRINK AND PRAY
IN SATISFACTION / FOR EXONERATION
CLAP YOUR HANDS AND BE ON YOUR MERRY WAY
A WHITE STRIP OF FREEDOM / OF GUILT
WRAPPED TIGHT AROUND AND ROUND YOUR THROAT
THE PATHWAY TO YOUR EMPTY AND ACHING HOLLOW
AREN’T YOU ALWAYS HUNGRY?
AREN’T YOU ALWAYS THIRSTY?
IS THE WATER NOT THICK ENOUGH?
IS THE PAIN NOT RED ENOUGH?
THE HUNGER NEVER SLEEPS / THE THIRST NEVER WEEPS
DO NOT LET YOUR TEARS AND FEARS GO TO WASTE
AN ELYSIAN STATE IS A NONEXISTENT PLACE
End ID.]
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excerpt of the poem I made across multiple posts on my mastodon acc
---
THIS SUMMER WILL BE THE FIRST ONE I FEEL LIKE A HUMAN
SEVEN YEARS, AND YET
EVEN HE DIDN'T HURT ME LIKE YOU DID
THIS SUMMER I WON'T BE UNDER YOUR CONTROL
FOUR YEARS WITH YOU
A THREE-PERSON CULT WITH TWO HUNDRED MEMBERS
THIS SUMMER YOU WON'T HURT HIM ANYMORE EITHER
SIX YEARS HIS "FRIEND"
YOU CALLED HIM A NUISANCE AND SAID HE'D NEVER MAKE REAL FRIENDS
THIS SUMMER WE'LL BE ENJOYING LIFE WITH REAL PEOPLE
ELEVEN YEARS HERE AND YOU MADE NEARLY EVERY ONE OF THEM CHAOTIC
THIS SUMMER I GET THE PASSIONS YOU KEPT ME FROM ATTAINING
TWO AND A HALF MONTHS AWAY
AND I STILL FEEL LIKE I HAVE TO STAY OUT OF THE HOUSE TO BE MYSELF
THIS SUMMER THE ROAD WON'T JUST BE MY ESCAPE FROM BEING "AT HOME"
THE SILENT SUMMER
THE FIRST SUMMER
VISITATION
THE SECOND SUMMER
THE SUSPENDED FALL
THE SILENT SPRING
THE YEAR OF PAIN
THE WINTER OF REFUGE
IT'S OVER SOON. I'LL NEVER CROSS YOUR PATH AGAIN
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I NEED TO BAKE AGAIN I NEED TO CRAFT AGAIN MY IDLE HANDS TEAR MY SKIN I AM IN PAIN WAITING FOR THE MOMENT OF CREATION. A HALF DOZEN MILLION BILLION PROJECTS HALF STARTED HALF FINISHED AND HALFWAY FORGOTTEN. INSPIRED BY EVERYTHING AND IGNORED UNTIL I HAVE MORE FREE TIME. JUST UNTIL THIS WEEKEND. UNTIL SUNDAY. UNTIL THE WEEK BEGINS AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN AND STILL I AM IMPATIENT BECAUSE I KNOW THAT WHEN I FINALLY SIT DOWN. WHEN I FINALLY BREATHE. IT WILL BRING ME THE PEACE OF EXISTENTIAL MEANING.
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