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#heavy thoughts
photozoi · 1 year
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I walked into the room and he was like this.
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He has heavy thoughts.
the Wizzard- Borzoi
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downfalldestiny · 10 months
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I need a drink ☕ !.
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quinloki · 2 days
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This is 100% a statement of privilege:
Every time I hear about a trans person dying, and the news, and their family using their dead name or legal name, I am grateful that I was able to change mine.
Grateful that my family uses it.
Grateful that my spouse, atheist that they are, treats it as divine - correcting people in an appropriate tone with more fervor than I do.
I hope luck, and privilege honestly, keep me safe for so long that no one would even dare to use the wrong descriptors upon my death. I hope the world changes between now and then that what words are used barely even categorize me in terms of my appearance.
I hope the core of my soul is not the reason for my death.
I hope that when I die, I am old, weathered, scarred more from protecting others than myself. I hope it’s storming, because that always made me think of drums and song and it’d be nice to go out during a show.
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zquill217 · 6 days
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To my inner child:
I'm sorry you couldn't experience the life you wished for.
You had no way of seeing how things were going to unfold
You're allowed to cry for what was lost and for what could have been
But it's going to be okay
I'm building a life that we can both enjoy for the rest of our days
We're going to be okay
I love you.
-Us
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charlierieka14 · 10 days
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I used to think that I rarely had much to say. My lips would stay cemented shut. Words would backlog from the tip of my swollen tongue to the bottom of my hollow stomach. I let the silence wrap it's greedy hands around my throat and squeeze until the veins under my skin popped. Until tender flesh bruised and felt raw. I used to think my words would simply crowd an already full highway of in and out dialogues that had some place important to be.
As it turns out, I have too much to say.
Words that sting and shatter and melt the comfortable walls of well behaved silence. Words that slash and crush the ideas that this is all simply just normal.
My silence has created a raging monster that paces uncomfortably in my tight, fraying skin. As my jaw weakens, and the seal on my lips decays, I can feel the lethal claws of this monster making its way to the threshold of my mouth.
Truth bubbles and boils inside my throat. I am so very worn from carrying the weight of secrets that broke my spine long ago.
It was for them, that I carried these burdens. I kept the gun from my temple and the rope on the floor for them. I took air into my lungs and felt the sun kiss my skin for them. I kept bloody knuckles and violent outbursts to protect the last of their hope. I squeezed the blade so tight, begging for it to simply just slip across my heart. With nothing left to give, I fabricated a false love. Because they asked me to. Because they needed it. Because I was just a child who wanted to be loved in return.
Now, I don't know how to be. I am forever lost in a limbo that calls itself my home. I've shed so many shells of this life, that I cannot stand to grow another. I am bare, stripped down to scars and rotting flesh. My heart craves to have light pour through it once again.
I used to think that I didn't have much to say. As it turns out, my thoughts are deeper than the ocean and infinite like the space we all occupy.
As it turns out, I have so much to say, I just don't know where to start.
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thehornedgodpan · 2 months
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Stardust
We are all of us stardust wrought.
The flame of stars sings in our blood, the weight of stars hums in our bones.
We are born of stardust and fire and in each of us is a universe blazing
We are stardust wrought.
Our blood sings with the flame of stars, sings life and heat and death and destruction, so vivid and fierce are we.
Fire is our blood, the flame of life, the flame which lights the torches, drives out the night, brings warmth to the cold and food to the hungry.
Fire is our blood, the flame of death, the flame which scorches the deserts, dries the lakes, burns forest and flesh alike.
Fire is our blood, the flame of stars which stand stark against the void, which burn across the cosmos and who linger long past death.
Our bones hum with stardust and are wrought with the trimmings of a universe, all blazing stone and shining dust.
In our bones lingers the old weight of stars, the weight of watching a universe turn, of seeing day and night and age upon age beyond counting.
In our bones sings the memory of stars long passed, powers of a sky beyond all knowing bound in human form, unable to forget what it was to be more.
In our bones is the ache of divinity lost, of grandeur brought low, of stars who burn no more, of a sky black and cold and forgotten.
We are born of stars, born of flames and light and the weight that bears worlds beyond all count.
We are more than flesh and blood, than dust and flame, than shadows of the forgotten.
We are born of stars, and to stars we return. In us waits a star unleashed, the power that wrought the sky and shaped all things. 
We are born of stars, in our blood and bones. To remember what we were, to become it again, is our doom and our gift. 
We are stars.
Watch us burn.
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quicksilver87 · 2 months
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quidophobia · 5 months
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Tw: ***IMPORTANT*** THE MAIN THEME OF THIS IS D3@TH IF THAT IS A SENSITIVE TOPIC FOR YOU OR YOU ARE REALLY YOUNG DONT READ THIS
I've been thinkin about death a lot lately
Not like in a I want death sort of way
Just thinkin
Just ponderin the what if of death
Coming to terms with its inevitability
I am so used to thinkin about my future and how I have so much ahead to live for that I forget that I could die any time
We always like to think that we are the exception that we are safe but who knows
One day it might be me who gets hit by a car
One day I might get sick
One day I might die and no one could have predicted it
I don't want to die but I could
I'm so close to death everyday
If I walked into my kitchen right now it could be the end of me
I wouldn't but it's that small fact that I could that truly captivates me
Call this morbid of mentally unstable or whatever you will but to me its just a fascination
A need to understand what can't be fully grasped
We spend all our time living and living but I want to know what it's like
The fear that you won't have tomorrow
It's not guaranteed
Just some food for thought really
Nothing serious
Nothing dangerous
Just thoughts sparked by circumstance
War
Death
Life
Meaning
Things that fascinate me
The strange thing is that death is what makes it worth living
If we had forever no one would be driven to take risks
'Life' without death, if even it could be called life, would be as meaningless as light without dark, chaos without order.
If there is no time limit, there is no passion for living.
Immortality would bring living to be no more exciting than having an endless amount of time to finish a task. it gets pushed to the back and forgotten.
We have a limit to our time
So, why not?
Why not live for what it's worth and take advantage of now since you don't know if you have tomorrow.
Sorry to yall who stayed that got bleak quick. I just needed to write myself out of a hole i swear im fine just having some heavy thoughts. Imma go back and tw this now, lol.
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downfalldestiny · 11 months
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Mood ❤️‍🩹 !.
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d-e-w-p · 3 months
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I have been living with Grief lately. She moved in a while ago. She has touched everything I own without leaving her room.
8 cannot read without seeing her handwriting. I cannot draw without a sketch of hers in the margins. 8 cannot create art without her mark, a signature on all my works.
The things 8 make are not my own anymore.
She is a constant companion without leaving her room.
She holds my wrist when I walk the dogs. She sits on my shoulders at work. She doesn't talk much. But she is always there.
She doesn't say much.
But I hear her all the same.
Grief moved in with me a long time ago. She has touched all parts of me.
And 8 think she means to stay
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anchoeritic · 1 year
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goodnight to my infinite lovers
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charlierieka14 · 2 months
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Have I not done enough? Have I not endured the fires of hell, and the mark of the devil to your liking?
Were my cries of anguish into the endless abyss not proof enough that I have broken. I have shattered. I have obliterated every fragment of my heart just to survive.
Have I not taken every broken heart that climbed into my small, broken hands and mended it? Have I not created hope in the starving darkness with the last of my light so the lost souls could find their way home? Have i not loved all the flaws of the imperfections that lie within our bones and taught them to feel beautiful?
Why do you ask this of me? I cannot seek that which is impossible to discover. I cannot brace for this endless storm any longer.
Oh, how my heart is weary and defeated with burdens that were handed down through an unwanted lineage. I've recycled my mind. I've rebuilt my heart. I've hollowed out my own bones just so I can stay afloat.
I have loved the moon and her stunning light in the darkness of the night. I have confessed to the stars my deepest fears and given them the good parts of my heart to write into the sky forever.
I have looked into the face of hate, and death, and pain, and offered my hand. For I listened to the universe as it told me everything has a place. Everyone has a purpose. I have given all the greatness bestowed to me every second of every day..
Have I not done enough? Or is it simply my time to leave this all behind and gently walk into the darkness and never come back?
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shadowkeith · 2 years
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This is from the Sheith Big Bang 2019/20 - my collab with @aryagraceling (on twitter), fic linked!
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dignitiesfailure · 2 years
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- “ I couldn't breathe, nor could I hear. a white noise rang in my ears, cutting out the rest of the endless sounds around me. my lungs yearned for air, for an intake of breath, but oxygen failed to cooperate. by the heavy weight that fell on my chest and the way my mind went into static, I knew I had began to drown. the waves of anxiety that crashed against the dunes of my ribcage had overthrown me, and i only had so much time to come back to the surface before my demons swallowed me whole. ”
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omorfomyalo · 1 year
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Was it the slippery rocks that made it heavy?
Or it was the sun lying to our faces ?
Fyli mountains, Athens, Greece
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